Smithsonian packs a (free) party and brings home the bacon

The Smithsonian was a zoo this weekend! (The cultural activity of my Oct 17; I'm almost up to date.) It was rainy outside, the museum was free, and the people came. There were children and strollers and umbrellas and wheelchairs. I was trying to decide if the museum staff was elated or frustrated.



My friend Stacie, who was visiting from out of town, commented that she really appreciated that all the Smithsonian museums are free. I said I definitely agree, but was surprised they were not more aggressive in collecting donations at the door - usually people will give a small amount when enjoying something free (this is how all NCTA folk festivals operate - what we call the "bucket brigade" - where volunteers wander the grounds and collect money in buckets). Maybe wandering is less appropriate in a museum, but they could have large donation signage and containers at the entrances. It occurred to me that maybe they don't solicit individual donations, because they receive a dominant amount of money from the government -- but I checked and there's a donate option on the Smithsonian website. I don't know how much of their income comes from public money versus private contributions, so I looked it up on GuideStar (a great resource). Here's the rundown: Their revenue was just under $493.5 million in 2008. Of this, $129 million was from public support, $119 million was from government contributions, $74 million came from program service revenue, $50 million came from membership, $43 million came from sales of inventory (gift shop, cafe, maybe?), and the rest was mostly split between assets sold, interest on savings, and special events (remarkably small at $262 thousand - recalling to mind a valuable lesson that special events are not all they're cracked up to be, in terms of relative earning potential). Their expenses came in at $406 million, giving them a solid bottom line in the black of about $85 million. So what have we learned? The Smithsonian is financially responsible, and has amazing free museums, with really high attendance, especially on rainy days.

We also ventured into the East building of the National Gallery of Art and perused the contemporary art floor. My favorite viewing was Matisse's Paper Cutouts, on special exhibit, the bright colors of which covered entire walls. He began to make them when he was recovering from surgery and painting was physically difficult.

Photos are of the main hall of the Natural History Museum, and an overhead shot of the Sea Life wing. I took both of these. The one below is me in front of the Smithsonian Castle, taken by Stacie.

The Dinner Party

While in New York City over October 3-4, Stephanie and Salina and I went to see Judy Chicago's The Dinner Party at the Brooklyn Museum of Art. A feminist piece from the 1970's that has had difficulty finding a museum home in the past, it was something I didn't know a lot about. Stephanie had done ample research on it previously (I believe in grad school under Dr. Michelle Facos - one of our favorites - at IU). The exhibit space was really well put together; it created an experience that was quiet and reflective, and dark, as you can see from the picture, with the lighting focused on the place settings. And what I thought was unusual for an art museum and contributed particularly to my appreciation and understanding was the contextual information provided. First, to carry around with you, there was a laminate-cards flip book with a brief summary of the accomplishments of each woman whose place-setting graced the table (Virginia Woolf, one of my favorites, was chosen, but many names I did not know. Woolf's place is the pale green one, second on the left in the photo). Second, beside the exhibit room, there were large panels detailing all the research of women's history done to complete the piece. There were benches in front of these, and we sat and read for a long time. Judy Chicago did her job, because I left thinking about my identity as a woman (which I do not often do) and how fortunate I was to have been born in a time period after all the brave women who fought for civility toward and equality for women for so many centuries. Also of note, the Brooklyn Museum of Art's lobby signage reads with specific admission prices. But when you go to pay, they reveal it's a "suggested" donation - and you can pay what you wish or are able. I think there's value to a pay-what-you-can pricing structure, and also a "suggested price" when accepting donations but I'm wondering about the type of research they did to conclude it was the most beneficial structure to maximize patronage. We were there on a Sunday and it seemed quiet.

NEA National Heritage Fellowships

Last week, I had the extraordinary honor of participating in the celebration surrounding the National Endowment for the Arts National Heritage Fellowships, where eleven selected folk artists were honored for their contribution to our country's cultural heritage. There was an award ceremony on Tuesday evening, followed by a dinner in the Library of Congress. The honors continued Thursday, with a concert at Strathmore, hosted by NCTA friend Nick Spitzer, of NPR's American Routes. During Tuesday's dinner, each of the fellows stood up and spoke about their work and their heritage.
Every single one of them was incredibly thankful and gracious. A common thread throughout the evening was mention of what exceptional fortune they felt they have had, to come to be in America, be it through their ancestors or their own emigration; as our great country has given them the opportunity and freedom to practice their craft and carry on their tradition, as a true a receptacle for heritages and customs of all people who make this their home. Hearing them each speak was really a treat. Sophiline Cheam Shapiro came out of the Khmer Rouge holocaust to teach classical Cambodian dance to a new generation in California. Teri Rofkar continues a tradition of spruce root gathering and basket weaving from the Raven Clan in Alaska; she shared a story of a basket found recently in an archeological dig near her home that was dated at 5,000 years old, that bore the same pattern of weaving she uses and teaches today. Cowboy poet Joel Nelson stood up and said "This is the second greatest honor I have been given in my life. The first is sitting right over there," refering to his wife Sylvia who works side-by-side with him on their 24,000 acre ranch in Alpine, Texas.
LeRoy Graber was truly a delight, telling a story about two horses, to whom he felt he owed his life, that lead his grandfather through a blizzard to safety, over 80 years ago. His grandfather taught him to weave when he was ten years old. There are wonderful stories from each of the fellows, and I really encourage anyone to listen to their interviews posted on the NEA site. Another highlight for me was the chance to speak briefly to Rocco Landesman, newly appointed NEA chairman, near the end of the evening.

In the photo above, Rocco stands at the podium, the fellows to the left and right of him. The most prominent audience members sitting in front of me are Amma McKen's cheering section (she is on the far right). The second photo is inside the Library of Congress, a stunning backdrop for the evening, just as people come downstairs for dinner.

Fado

They say you learn something new every day. Today, it was a little more about Bobby Jindal, and about Fado. For the sake of art, we'll stick to the latter for now.

I was researching the current season of Purdue Convocations, on the campus of Purdue University, presenting music, theater, and dance, and discovered a Fado concert. "What is this?" I thought, and quickly googled. A whole new (but old) type of music revealed itself...

From World Music Central and Purdue Convocations:

Fado music is the heart of the Portuguese soul. It is arguably the oldest urban folk music in the world. Like American blues, traditional Fado features sultry, sorrowful songs mourning lost love or working-class struggles. It’s a sad music and a fado performance is not considered successful if an audience is not moved to tears. It was played for pleasure but also to relieve the pain of life. Skilled singers known as fadistas performed at the end of the day and long into the night. Fado was traditionally the earthy music of taverns and brothels and street corners in Alfama and Mouraria, the old poor sections of Lisbon. Fado has now moved from Lisbon street corners and taverns into European concert halls...and is now making waves in the US. Dressed in black with a shawl draped over her shoulders, a fadista stands in front of the musicians and communicates through gesture and facial expressions. The hands move, the body is stationary. When it’s done correctly, it’s a solemn and majestic performance.

Mariza is the artist singing at Purdue. It's worth a listen.