A family friend invited me to lunch yesterday. We met at the National Museum of Women in the Arts (NMWA) on New York Avenue in Washington, D.C. I had been planning to visit interesting spots in my area since returning from our world travels, but had spent most (okay, all) of the summer venturing no further than downtown Silver Spring. An outing requiring the use of Metro and a map seemed just the thing to inaugurate my new resolution.
The NMWA is a grand building just two blocks north of the 13th Street exit from Metro Center. A helpful red vest-wearing, D.C. guide was waiting near the top of the Metro escalator to help lost or lost-looking visitors. I always look a bit lost, so he stopped me to offer directions.
After a pleasant 5-minute walk under my fuchsia umbrella, I found the entrance and my waiting friend. The interior is lavishly appointed with chandeliers, symmetrical sweeping staircases, an ornate ceiling and rose-colored marble floors conjuring up images of Cinderella’s ball.
We enjoyed a tasty lunch in the café on the mezzanine at a table by a big, arched window overlooking G Street. Choices ranged from carrot soup to grape salad to an interesting-sounding sandwich with turkey and gin-soaked sauerkraut. Unfortunately, that was the only available alcohol—no glass of wine will accompany your lunch and give you that glowy feeling for art-gazing after your meal. Tablecloths and good service heightened the experience in spite of plastic, outdoor-style chairs. The place was humming; all tables filled by the time we took ourselves down the hallway for a look at some female-made art.
All the artwork in the NMWA is, appropriately, created by women. And you may find yourself wondering how so little of it has elbowed its way onto the hallowed gallery walls in our better-known museums. Works from the 16th century to the present are on display. I saw photography, sculpture, contemporary oil painting, 17th century portraiture, a kaleidoscopic array of Australian Aboriginal art, and edgy modern pieces to ponder. I found one of my favorite paintings in postcard form at the charming gift shop and now have my own Aboriginal “dreaming” upon the mantle.
Can there even be enough female-produced, exhibit-worthy art to fill a gallery? Yes! Hundreds of galleries are presenting exhibitions by women. Consider, for example, “Elles at Centre Pompidou,” a yearlong exhibition at the Pompidou Center in Paris (open until May 2011) showing off favorites selected from 50,000 works. Or current exhibits in Indiana; Maine; Brooklyn, NY(don’t miss Judy Chicago’s “The Dinner Party,” a permanent installation there); or Ohio—all offering the chance to contemplate the range of artwork by women.
You’ll be very satisfied, however, until your trip to the Pompidou, with an afternoon spent perusing at The National Museum for Women in the Arts.
