Thanks to my boss being out yesterday, I was able to run over to the National Gallery and see the Pompeii and the Roman Villa exhibit. It's extremely well-done, and I highly recommend seeing it on a weekday when it's less crowded, if possible. The Pompeii show is in the usual space the NGA uses for major exhibitions, on the mezzanine and upper levels of the East Building, with the spiral staircase taking you upstairs at the halfway point.

The best thing about it was that when I was actually in Naples, about ten years ago, the archaeological museum was closed due to some strike or something, so I was finally able to see some of the artifacts and artwork I missed at that time. I've been to Pompeii itself, which was eerie. My cousin and I visited on a cold, cloudy day, and it wasn't very crowded. We were in the middle of the town's ruins when the clouds opened up, and it began to pour. The rain was accompanied by thunder and lightning, which lent a real "79 AD" feel to our run back to the entrance. Fortunately, the 2,000 year old Roman drainage system worked perfectly, channeling the deluge into the gutters. Those stepping-stones they had at some of the intersections came in handy for keeping our feet dry. Yay, Roman technology and engineering!

Things are much less open to the elements, of course, at the National Gallery - all the artifacts are perfectly lit, and well-presented with comprehensive wall text. My only complaint is that as usual, photography is banned, even without using flash. It was so hard not to whip out my camera, which would have taken nice pictures with my trusty 17-55mm f/2.8 lens on it, ideal for dim museum use. I wish they had more Greek and Roman art in their permanent collection! Then I could photograph the crap out of it.

Anyway, it's a great show. Pompeii and the Roman Villa runs until March 22, 2009, so there's still plenty of time to see it before it's gone.
 

One of the more interesting things I did this past weekend was to check out the Move Along show of works by emerging DC photographers at Bloombars. The show was organized by ten miles square, and in case you aren't familiar with the location, Bloombars is that new art gallery and performance space down the street from Wonderland at 3222 11th Street NW in Columbia Heights.

The photography was interesting, but it was a treat just seeing the raw interior of the old storefront where Bloombars is located. Lots of character in there! Also, I got to meet Heather Goss, of DCist and Washingtonian house-renovation fame. There was a $5 suggested donation, and there were snacks and drinks available for purchase, in order to help the art sponsors and exhibitors pay the bills. Later on, there was going to be a musical performance on the small stage, but we couldn't stay that late. I wonder what they'll do next at Bloombars? 

On Sunday, J and I attended the Capital Pride Festival, which by the looks of things was a huge success. I took some photos, and treated J to an Italian Ice before we got too overheated and had to head for some shade. As a straight guy with a gay family member, who supports GLBT rights and same-sex marriage, I wanted to show a little support for the team, without crashing the party too much. :) One thing that immediately caught my eye were the classic cars on display, from the Lambda Car Club. Some have complained about the number of corporate vendors at the festival, but it's heartening to me that so many mainstream American companies have embraced their LGBT customers and employees.

Eventually, the strong sun and lack of shade drove us indoors, to the National Gallery of Art, where we took in the Afghanistan exhibit. The show runs through September, and is comprised of hundreds of beautiful artifacts from Afghanistan's National Museum in Kabul, which were thought to be lost as a result of the violence that has plagued the nation since the 1980s. Unfortunately, no photography was permitted, otherwise I would have taken plenty of photos for Flickr. I was surprised to see how much of the art was influenced by classical Greek styles, with Corinthian column capitals, and sculpted figures with heads that looked a little like Alexander the Great to my untrained eye. There was also some art that looked to be influenced by India and/or Persia. Running through my mind the whole time was the concern that these artifacts would eventually be returning to Afghanistan, and will again sadly be at risk for destruction considering the instability there. Hopefully, they won't go the way of the giant buddha statues at Bamiyan! 

According to the Washington Post, The Awakening sculpture is going to be dug up and removed from its current location at Hains Point next week. As previously mentioned in the news, it was purchased by the developer of the National Harbor project and will be moved to Prince George's County. This will leave DC with nothing but an empty, windswept field on a site just crying out for a sculptural focal point like The Awakening. I hate to imagine it in its new corporate environment, surrounded by retail chains, hotel rooms and convention-goers. 

The National Park Service should hold a competition to select a replacement for The Awakening as soon as possible. The site at the southern tip of the District needs something, a fountain, a spire, a tower, a huge flagpole. My idea for a replacement, which I first mentioned in a DCist comment thread, is a monumental sculpture, a modern-day Colossus of Rhodes on the Potomac. Here, the bearded giant portrayed in The Awakening has fully emerged from the ground, shaken the dirt off, stood upright and is extending an obscene hand gesture in the direction of National Harbor. How does that sound? 

The weather was excellent for a bike ride yesterday, and fortunately it was my day off, so I went for one. My objective was to find and photograph the Triceratops, and Penn Station Eagle sculpture in the National Zoo, so I set off in that direction through Mount Pleasant. The most direct route is down Harvard Street, but I forgot about the steep hill and was soon blazing down at maybe 25 MPH. Fortunately, the light at the bottom was green and I swooped through the intersection and over the bridge into Rock Creek Park, and then to the Zoo's back entrance.

Once on the Zoo grounds, bicyclists have to dismount and walk their bikes, you're not allowed to ride on Zoo property. There was a completely unoccupied bike rack in front of the Zoo Police headquarters, so I parked it there, with several curious children watching, and walked over to where the Triceratops was installed. I found it and took a few pictures (see below) and unlocked the bike and began my search for the Penn Station eagle. It was slow going pushing the bike uphill, around large crowds of tourists, and onto narrower and narrower paths. Eventually, I found the Bird House, and almost circled all the way around it before finding the Penn Station eagle in a quiet, secluded spot. I guess they wanted the eagle to be as close to the birds as possible, but it would be nice if the sculpture was a little more prominently displayed. The identification marker was in rough shape, but still legible.

After taking a couple of pictures of the eagle, I kept going uphill until I reached the main zoo entrance on Connecticut Avenue NW. What happened to the Zoo Market in the building across the street?! As tipped off by G, it's been replaced by a generic 7-11. I rode north on Connecticut through the horrible construction zone on the Klingle Road Bridge. While trying to avoid metal plates and being run over in heavy traffic, I noticed some graffiti on the bridge's beautiful art-deco light fixtures by the same asshole taggers that plague the poorer neighborhoods. Hopefully it will be cleaned off as the bridge restoration is completed.

At Connecticut and Porter, I paused to take a couple of pictures of Yenching Palace, the historic Chinese restaurant with the cool neon sign and colorful enamel facade, soon to be replaced with more retail generica: Walgreen's. The shortsighted folks who crafted the anti-restaurant zoning ordinance in Cleveland Park must be pleased with themselves. I took a little detour up Porter Street to take a picture of a friend's building, and then headed back to Columbia Heights. A special shout-out to the cell-phone talking car driver who tailgated and honked at me as I was doing about 30 down the big hill, instead of just passing me in the other lane. then there was the long, uphill climb-out from the other side of the park.

So, it was a short ride, but I took some decent pictures and in general enjoyed being on 2 wheels. Back to work today.

Remember that life-sized Triceratops dinosaur sculpture that was in front of the Natural History Museum on the Mall? Kids climbed on it, people took pictures, and in general it livened up the area. It was removed years ago, and I think someone at the Washington Post (Marc Fisher?) wrote a piece about how the old dinosaur sculpture was missed/missing. I assumed it was in one of those Smithsonian warehouses in Suitland.

Thanks to a tip from G at the National Zoo, it turns out the Triceratops was moved there, and languished in a staff-only area for years. Fortunately, the sculpture has been restored and moved to a public area at the zoo, near Lemur Island, where it is displayed surrounded by plants appropriate to the Cretaceous era. I intend to go see it and take some pictures, because I have a small personal connection to the thing.

When my mom was born in 1939, she was taken as an infant by her parents to see the 1939-40 New York World's Fair. When I was born in January 1965, my mom continued the tradition and took me as an infant to see the 1964-65 World's Fair. It was much cheesier than the first one, but I'll take what I can get. Anyway, the Triceratops was commissioned by the Sinclair Oil Company as part of its Dinoland display at the '64-65 Fair, and I probably saw it as a baby. Triceratops was always my favorite dinosaur, too. I'm glad it's back on display and will report back as soon as I get a chance to take some pictures.

The image itself would have been kitschy to an adult, but I found it creepy as a child. It was a general "South Pacific" scene, perhaps inspired by Hawaii, Tahiti, or similar locales. There was a large volcanic island looming in the background, maybe there was a little smoke trailing from the lip of the volcano. There were palm trees, lots of water, and one or more dugout canoes. Either in the canoes, or on the beach were several "natives" possibly wearing ceremonial masks, and they struck the young Mr. T as angry cannibals. There was either a large palm tree or something in the left foreground, framing the scene. It's hard to remember, and again there are no pictures of the thing. Nothing else in the house was Polynesian-themed, so I don't know what my mom and dad were thinking.

When going in to use the bathroom at night, the mural was pretty scary while half-lit. There was no shower curtain, because my brother and I were still in the bath-taking phase, while my parents used the shower stall in the rear of the house. So, you could see it even while walking down the hall if the bathroom door was open. I definitely remember taking a bath in that tub, being extra-scared of the mural and those "cannibals" while naked and helpless. What a strange thing to have in a bathroom - I wish I had a photograph of it! Come to think of it, the entire house I grew up in was strange. More on that at a later date.