It sounds like a terrific show, one I would enjoy if not for the fact that it's on display at the National Gallery of Art, a first-class institution, of course, but one at which taking in such a show promises too much discomfort, annoyance, and pain, to say nothing of too many Washingtonians.
Or was that already understood?
A most insufferable people, they. And I know, because I used to be one myself.
(See also, "Sublimely at Odds," by Blake Gopnik, the Washington Post, January 29.)
[Post-publication addendum: Reader P.G.C., of Washington's Virginia suburbs, writes: "I had the crazy idea of trying to go opening day (Sunday) with my wife, only to open the Wash Post and see a big front page article in the Arts section on the exhibit. Combine that with a rainy day in D.C., and so much for that thought. I
knew it was going to be jammed."]