On the National Gallery reopening
Here’s how my first indoor visit to a museum in more than four months went.
After four months of feeling guilty about my nearly 20-month-old toddler OD’ing on Thomas & Friends, Mother Goose Club, and Masha and the Bear—the latter is beautifully-animated, maybe-Russian propaganda—I heard art’s clarion call beckon even amid nearly 100-degree temperatures.
So we set out yesterday for the National Gallery of Art on the first day it reopened to the public. I’ve seen a quote attributed to French realist Gustave Courbet: “The museums should be closed for 20 years, so that today’s painters may begin to see the world with their own eyes.” Pandemic taught me there’s a such thing as too much of my own eyes, and I was ready to see the world again as great artists had.
My cute art-viewing companion.
We met a close friend (who was pushing his five-and-a-half-week-old son in a stroller); though this was the latter’s first museum visit, my toddler has likely—by no choice of his own—clocked more time in more museums than most adults. Spoiler alert: His favorite part was running around the cafeteria, as his dad had a beer.
Here’s how the rest of the visit to the National Gallery went: I made a reservation for a half-hour arrival slot on the website, which was fairly easy. By two days ago, most of the week’s slots had “sold” out, so others, clearly, also miss seeing art in person.
Just a small percentage of the galleries are open—several rooms of 19th- and 20th-century sculpture; a few rooms of medieval, Renaissance, and Baroque sculpture and decorative arts; one room of Impressionist still-lifes; the Kaufman furniture collection; and two exhibits: “Degas at the Opera” and “True to Nature: Open-Air Painting in Europe, 1780-1870.”
A masked man in a room of 19th- and 20th-cent. sculpture at the National Gallery of Art. July 20, 2020. My photo.
Many of the open galleries are less-trafficked under non-pandemic circumstances, so it was easy to keep a safe distance, particularly as the museum controls entry. The only bottlenecking occurred in the Degas exhibit, and even there it wasn’t that crowded.
Only one of the gallery’s four public entrances (three in the old building and one in the new) is now open, and visitors can use two exits. Signage on the ground outside the entrance asks visitors to keep their distance, and once inside, new security equipment (see picture below) allows guards to maintain their distance. (They still needed to check our strollers and extensive baby-related accessories.)
From the start, the staff was very helpful (often behind plexiglass). A new map shows which spaces are open—two dozen galleries, a cafe (credit card only), restrooms, etc.—and several staff members positioned themselves prominently to answer questions. Some guards wore gloves while others didn’t, but staff and visitor alike was masked.
At no point did anyone ask if we were feverish, if we’d tested positive for virus or had been near someone who had, or any of the litany of questions I’ve been asked elsewhere. But the timed pass I received by email directed: “Stay home if you are sick or have a fever.”
Entrance to the National Gallery of Art in Washington on July 20, 2020. My photo.
The emailed pass added: “The Gallery may share your name and email address with a governmental health authority should that information be requested for a COVID-19-related reason.”
Inside, it was strange to see the galleries so empty. Although it was thrilling to again spend time with great art, it was tough knowing the treasures upstairs were off limits. The reopening will likely introduce visitors to parts of the museum that they otherwise bypass en route to seeing Rembrandt, da Vinci, or modern art in the East Building.
I recommend the marvelous Daumier sculpted heads and Titian’s “Saint John the Evangelist on Patmos” (c. 1553/55), which you’ll miss if you don’t look up, in particular.
Then there was the mask. Trying to look at art through foggy glasses wasn’t quite as bad as going to the museum wearing sunglasses, but it meant I was seeing art through a haze. This required some creativity to discern details, but as with visiting family I haven’t seen in months, spending time with those I love in a fog beats the alternative.
Even van Gogh wears a mask outside the National Gallery. July 20, 2020. My photo.
My favorite object from the visit was a “Chalice of the Abbot Suger of Saint-Denis” (pictured below), which seemed to embody the current moment.
This stunning cup was created in second or first century BCE and was then gilded and bejeweled in the 12th century, during which it was used to celebrate a June 11, 1144 mass at the French abbey church of Saint-Denis. French King Louis VII and Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine attended that service, as did the archbishop of Canterbury and a dozen and a half other bishops and archbishops, per the National Gallery.
This object was used to consecrate a space held to be the first Gothic architecture. “Like the building itself, the chalice reflects the abbot’s belief that beautiful things were not only fitting and proper in the celebration of God’s glory but that beauty, by its very nature, could transport the souls of men to contemplation of the divine,” the gallery states.
Chalice of the Abbot Suger of Saint-Denis. 2nd/1st century B.C. (cup); 1137-1140 (mounting). National Gallery. My photo.
Just by looking at the cup—the National Gallery has chosen … wisely!—one can divine its many journeys. Likely hailing from Egypt, it may have made its way to France many centuries later via Jewish merchants, per the gallery. And the collaged materials and styles over time make it a very particular ensemble of cultures and values.
Viewing this chalice in a wonderful little room at the newly reopened National Gallery gave me pause about beauty’s capacity to transport and elevate souls. The last four months have been nearly devoid of artful beauty for many of us—visiting a museum online doesn’t even approximate confronting art in person, to my way of thinking—and seeing this chalice, and all it represents, suggests to me the promise that we can quickly make up for lost time.
Ah, there is something very special in wandering a museum practically alone. Its almost like a personal tour of an artist's studio...aesthetic intimacy. And to discover a truly ancient chalice must have been equally exciting; who was it originally made for and a millennium or more later, did King Louis VII and Elenor actually drink from it....wow! But of equal importance, you should know foggy glasses over masks can be remediated by putting a folded piece of tissue under the mask nose wire. It serves to absorb the moisture from your breath and keep glasses unfogged!