The show, which is now appointment only, includes delicate drawings by Baltimore’s Lu Zhang, whose work we’ve admired for years.

Zhang’s “Opera” drawing series based on the beards and headdresses worn by Chinese performers is a perfect fit for a minimalist powder room.

Her “Tile” series is powerful from across the room or up close – the drawings crawl around the sides of the panels. 

Another local riser, Natalie Cheung, was a happy find – her powerful (and affordable!) cyanotypes have sold like hotcakes since we wrote about her work in our Fall issue.

From Natalie Cheung’s “Cyanotype” series, made by artfully spilling photo chemicals and letting them dry.

Richmond-based Ron Johnson, who teaches drawing at Virginia Commonwealth University, has several, well, sculpture-drawings up. They’re made of layered acrylic, mylar, and the occasional Sharpie marker scribble.

Two of Johnson’s pieces – the one on the right, Pick Up the Tempo, was created for specifically for this exhibit.

From farther afield: Sensational horse portraits by Roberto Dutesco, a famed fashion photographer based in New York. His series “The Wild Horses of Sable Island” documents feral horses on an uninhabited island off the coast of Nova Scotia, where visitors have to obtain special permission to gain access. The island is famous for shipwrecks, which is how the horses got there in the first place.

Dutesco’s reverent images are usually mounted on aluminum, which gives them a subtle glow from within.

This stunner, Captain, framed in (what else?) driftwood, is Lubar’s favorite.

“These are such special pieces, we’re determined to find homes,” Mackay says. Among the emerging and established contemporary artists, you’ll also see drawings by Picasso and Matisse, prints by Calder and Miro, and a few Andy Warhols – pretty good company if you ask me.  

For a complete rundown of the artists and works or to make an appointment, go here.

Huffman’s always been a collector of sorts, and he’s turned his home into a museum of his fascinating finds, from beautiful Arts and Crafts furniture and copper objects,

to vintage books,

to miniature houses,

to an innumerable number of vintage prints, posters, and other artwork that cover every square inch of his walls.

Getting back to his creations, J. Ford told me that his love of structures and stage sets might have started years ago when his 16(!) nephews and nieces were young, and he would entertain them by building 3-D structures from house blueprints. “I just wanted to see if you could do it,” he said. He also has a background in acting and stage design, which gave him a fascination with drawing proscenium arches and the stages within them.

He told me that his current endeavor started “in earnest” seven or eight years ago, when he started buying clear picture frames and shadow boxes from Ikea. Then, during his frequent travels, he would go hunting for objects that would fit inside, such as vintage fabric buttons from a market in Buenos Aires or an old ballerina figurine from Havana. He then got creative with his stages, finding inspiration in old wooden file boxes, for example, or a Dutch tobacco box, or a 1950s lab tray from a closed-down tuberculosis hospital.

“Button Up” features the buttons from Buenos Aires and the ballerina from Havana.

“There is Truth in the Figures” features the hospital lab tray, paired with a vintage photograph, a page from a 19th-century book on penmanship, and a brass stencil.

I especially love J. Ford’s homage to the changing tides of journalism.

 “La Editoria” takes a vintage box celebrating the news, along with another 19th-century penmanship sheet with “balance” written on it, as the backdrop to a doll-house TV and an old sketch of a typewriter. How cool.

"Methods of Communication Have Changed" takes a vintage toy microphone along with an image from the 1955 World Book Encyclopedia and the same title from a chapter page in a 1932 publication. A modern statement combined with sweet nostalgia.

There are more than 100 of J. Ford’s curious stages on display at The Art Registry – some are quaint, others clever, and still others make sharp commentary on political and social issues. This one below says it all with its title, using old Christmas lights and a toy soldier:

"Santa Lights for a Bright and Festive Holiday p.s. There’s a War On”

“Visual Acoustics,” which is narrated by Dustin Hoffman, is 83 minutes long, and includes interviews with Architect Frank Gehry, Artist Ed Ruscha, and architectural historians, among others.

Right after the screening, Director Eric Bricker spoke to the audience about what it was like to make this film.

“This was the experience of a lifetime. Julius was a master at living life. There was always a silver lining in everything that happened. That was the No. 1 thing I learned from Julius,” Bricker said.

Tina Alster, Paul Frazer, and the film’s executive producer Lisa Hughes hosted an after-party in Alster and Frazer’s fantastic Georgetown home.

Corinne Davidov visits with “Visual Acoustics” Director Eric Bricker (center) and Paul Frazer, who hosted the after-party.

I spoke to Bricker over cocktails. He talked about how he met Shulman by chance in LA back in the late ’90s when he was looking for some 1930s photographs of San Francisco while working as an art consultant. Someone referred him to their next-door neighbor, who happened to be Shulman.

“I was blown away by his photographs, and I was equally blown away by him as a person,” Bricker said, impressed by Shulman’s talent and wisdom. “The first day I met him, I said, ‘I’m going to be friends with him.’ ”

Bricker said meeting the remarkably talented photographer has been a life-altering experience. “Julius Shulman never went after wealth. It was his connection with nature and his relationships that was his wealth.”

Shulman, who was born on 10/10/1910, passed away last July at age 98. Shulman gave his archives to the Getty Museum, and saw “Visual Acoustics” seven times before he died.

“I don’t know anyone who has lived a fuller life than he did,” Bricker said.

Shirley Thomson, former director of the National Gallery of Canada, with Tina Alster, founding director of the Washington Institute of Dermatologic Laser Surgery, and hostess of the soiree after the screening.

Several top architects attended the screening and the soirée that followed, including the renowned Hugh Newell Jacobsen.

Architect Hugh Newell Jacobsen talks to Washington Spaces Editor in Chief Trish Donnally.

Architect Rudi Djabbarzadeh of Rudi D. and his wife, Interior Designer Fabiola Martens

“Visual Acoustics” is scheduled to play at the Landmark Theatres in DC through Nov. 19th. Don’t miss it. The success of these kinds of small independent films is built on word of mouth. So go see the movie, tell your friends, and let me know what you think.

The whole festival is inventive, modern, and inclusive. Images will be projected on museums and monuments throughout the city, and tonight’s “NightVisions” event pushes participants to investigate the city during the wee hours with their cameras, high on coffee and adrenaline, to print their images at the FotoWeek lab in the morning.

Projected images from last year’s festival, photographs by Paul Fetters

The all-over-the-map, come-one-come-all nature of FotoWeek is a little like the practice of photography itself – the way it’s now done by everyone, everywhere. “It’s a very accessible medium,” said Theo Adamstein, the event’s founder. “But we’re very concerned that the quality of what we present is very high. The shows have to be powerful.”

Photograph by Romeo J. Keeler

Many local galleries and the big museums set their own exhibits and programs, but they’re all being promoted under the FotoWeek umbrella, and the surge of traffic from FotoWeek crowds helps give the work broader exposure.

Photographs by Linda Plaisted

For Architect Adamstein of Adamstein & Demetriou Architects, who was also the founder of Chrome Imaging, the professional photo lab in Washington, DC, and an avid photographer himself, the city is a natural fit for the festival because of our world-class museums, the healthy gallery scene, and the sheer number of media professionals and organizations focused on the practice of taking pictures. Participants come from across the U.S. and the rest of the world. “It’s work that would never have come here otherwise. There’s a spontaneity to the way these things happen,” he says.

Photograph by Lotte Floe Christensen

Through Nov. 14, most events are free.

Fresh flowers all year long. Get them here.

I’ve purchased this set of botanicals from Anna Cote in the past, and I love them. Get them right here.

But the decision is so tough – I love these, too, which come with an adorable silver clip to hang them up. They can be found here.

These painted images are quiet and thoughtful and lovely. Get them here.

These images from Delphine Studio are sweet and playful, right here.

You will spend all day on the Etsy site checking out cool calendars. There are other companies out there as well, some of which I blogged about last year, that are worth looking into, to find the perfect art (er, calendar) for your desk in 2010. Happy New Year.

This townhouse in DC’s Shaw neighborhood won a design award in Washingtonian magazine.

Lautman shot the formidable townhouse of The Washington Post’s Bob Woodward for another story in Architectural Digest.

While going through Lautman’s photographs, I was struck by his ability to capture so many spaces and light sources in a single photograph, as he did here in a Cleveland Park house that was featured in The Washington Post.

Lautman’s picture of George Washington’s study at Mount Vernon is so crisp, you can see every single architectural detail, from the wavy plaster ceiling to the individual dentils in the molding, to the painted-on grain of the wood paneling, to the raw planks in the flooring.

Even if you’ve already seen Jefferson’s entry hall at Monticello in person, Lautman’s picture makes it more dramatic than it is to the naked eye.

This is almost more a picture of light itself than it is of Jefferson’s study.

As Jacobsen told me, “Death is an outrage. You can never accept it.” Anyone who knows (and loves) architectural photography will surely miss this giant in the field. We are lucky to have the National Building Museum in our backyard, where his fans and students of the genre can access Lautman’s work for generations to come.

Jason Gubbiotti, a young Corcoran-educated painter who’s from DC but now lives in Switzerland, was an assistant for Jacob Kainen, who also taught many Color School artists. Gubbiotti did a series with Magna paint, which was a staple of the movement but is no longer manufactured. His work is often associated with the color painters, but he’s quick to distance it – “I got interested in Color School guys from a side angle,” he says. “If there’s anything I take out of the [movement], it’s economy.”

Traditional Sunset Circumcision and Enjoy Insomnia by Jason Gubbiotti, courtesy of Hemphill Fine Arts

Gubbiotti’s discipline, the distilled urges and the reverence for line and surface, is hard to distance from what came before. Yet his abstract paintings, which he describes as “candy-coated war plans,” could only belong to the present.  

The current show at Conner Contemporary, “Conversations in Lyrical Abstraction,” conveys the pervasive influence of the Color School on artists working in new media. In the expansive, cool-white gallery, seminal pieces from the old masters are placed near contemporary works that indirectly reference them.

Mod Lang, from a DVD sequence set to music by Jeremy Blake; Plenitude by Morris Louis, courtesy Conner Contemporary

“A lot of people who spend time in DC, like Jeremy Blake and Leo Villareal, are painting digitally what these men and women were doing with stained canvas,” says Leigh Conner, gallery owner.

Sky by Leo Villareal, an LED sculpture, seems to reference the aural nature of Berkowitz’ paintings, such as Unities No. 60, right.

“One of the things we’re demonstrating is a style of painting where when you walk up to it you lose your field of vision,” Conner says.

When asked why the movement is still held up as the apex of local art, she says, “Letting the pigment soak into the canvas – that was a revelation at the time. They feel just as fresh now as they did then.” The show is up through Oct. 31.

Robin Rose, who fell in love with the Color School decades ago, doesn’t like to wistfully look back; he’d rather push to advance the dialogue. “I use a lot of their theories and rigor,” Rose says, “but I had to reintroduce texture and luminosity. I wanted to bring humility back to color concepts.”

Characteristic (diptych), and Nodes by Robin Rose

“For a town inundated with history and law,” Rose says, “it’s interesting this stuff would happen here.”

Radiant and Flora by Robin Rose. Rose images courtesy Hemphill Fine Arts

The two artists have never met, but National Gallery of Art curators Eric Denker and  Chris With discovered that many collectors who own one, also own the other. That is mostly due to art dealer Robert Brown,  who represents both artists.

“He’s sort of the paterfamilias behind this show,” With says. Both curators say it’s easy to understand why Kentridge and Kudryashov hang together in so many Washington homes.

Installation (Project), 1988, by Kudryashov; Telephone Lady, 2000, by Kentridge

“They have very strong graphic techniques,” Denker says. “And both worked at the end of very aggressive and regressive regimes. They address changes taking place, but they’re mindful of what had taken place in the past.”

With, who himself owns works by both artists, admires the spontaneous, edgy style they share. “That raw, intuitive, letting-it-all-hang-out kind of thing – that’s what appeals to a lot of the people who collect both.”

From Kudryashov, I’m taken by the angry lines that form what from a distance looks like a cartoon:

Coronation Day, 1984

Execution Day, 1986

Soldier with Doll, 1991

From Kentridge, his moody work seems infused with an ominous calm:

Blue Head, 1993-1998

Casspirs Full of Love, 1989

Sleeper Red, 1997

Wiley described a current project he’s working on with students at George Mason University – etchings that take aim at torture, the economic stimulus plan, and the “neo-minimalist” art movement – odd art-fellows if ever there were any.

“In mine, we’re torturing a neo-minimalist painting. There’s water-boarding and electric shock,” he said. Another etching depicts “a bucket with no bail – and 750 trillion gallons of water.”

So by now, you can sort of start to pick up on the way this man thinks – sort of.

“Wiley’s art has been described as eccentric, hermetic, idiosyncratic, irreverent, enigmatic, paradoxical, wacky, whimsical, childlike, cryptic, burlesque, ironic, folksy, bewildering – and all these terms fit,” Joann Moser writes in a book about his art that accompanies the exhibit.

Here are some notable examples.

His most recent work is the design of a working pinball machine, which is filled with images and messages imploring us to save our Earth, because it’s the only one we have.

Messages include “Only Art Can Save Us Now,” left, and right, a meditation on who is native and who is alien, and does it matter?

Wiley played his “Punball” machine at the preview yesterday, to the delight of the crowd.

His other works include paintings, drawings, watercolors, sculpture – even works made with neon light. And each of them forces you to think about the message it sends.

Mr. Unatural Eyes the Ape Run Ledge, 1975. This self portrait is a response to a 1960s comic-book character called Mr. Natural, whose persona was both a wise man and a con man. Here, Wiley creates Mr. Unatural to “both express and disguise his own awkwardness.”

Portrait of Radon, 1982. Wiley grew up in Richland, WA, the site of a federal plutonium production plant. The diagonal line from New York to Los Angeles represents a highway, 12 lanes wide and one foot deep, that the radioactive tailings of the nation’s nuclear power plants could fill. Radon is a radioactive gas emitted from the tailings. Wiley makes a pun from the title in the lower left corner: “Poor Trait of Radon.”

Columbus Revisited by D.V.D., 2005. The artist in this painting was called Seedy Rom (CD Rom) in earlier works – a disgruntled figure rejected by the post-modern art world. In this painting, his name is D.V.D., to acknowledge newer technology. A duck quacks in the sky, but it comes out as “Quark!” a computer layout program. The artist’s drawings represent Columbus’ three ships, while time is literally flying away in the hourglass. The world drips in red, white, and blue – you can draw your own conclusions from that. The symbolism goes on and on here.

The Anvil, 1988. Here’s another reference to the march of time. Wiley found this anvil in an old foundry – a device used for centuries which doesn’t have much place in the modern industrial world. He clad it in lead, nickel, steel, bronze, copper, and wood – all materials that had been used at the foundry. The sword, of course, is a reference to King Arthur’s legend.

I Wish I Could Have Known Earlier That You Have All the Time You’ll Ever Need Right Up to the Day You Die, 1970. Wiley’s mimicking – and mocking – the grid format used by many minimalist artists in the 1960s.

Which brings us back to his beef with minimalism. As with most of his art, he doesn’t give a straight answer, and forces you to add your own thoughts to the picture. “It’s a way to tug on the beard of something very important,” he said of the minimalist movement. “Or maybe it’s not that important?”

“She could frame a napkin that you drew on, and it would look amazing,” Steponkus told me. Indeed, when she wants really important art framed for her clients, she will fly to Atlanta for Avery to do it instead of using a local source.

Sally Steponkus stands in front of Avery’s framed intaglios – a favorite item.

More intaglios – these are placed against convex antique mirrors inside a tortoise-shell frame.

Here, Avery purchased 18th-century drawings and placed them in frames which she had purchased damaged, and then fixed up. “It really makes a museum statement,” Avery said.

Designer Gloria de Lourdes Blalock, who ventures to the Willard every time Avery is in town, also praises her skill with framing. “Nobody frames like she frames. She gets the corners right consistently,” which is the best mark of craftsmanship, she said.

Gloria de Lourdes Blalock stands among the frames.

More frames

Beyond the frames, the art is spectacular, too.

The main bedroom holds Avery’s 20th-century offerings

I love this “Four Seasons” series over the bed.

Barry Dixon Interiors, the work of one of Avery’s favorite clients, sits on a table beneath more 20th-century work.

I have to agree with the designers – the frame really makes the art, which hangs here in the suite’s second bedroom.

Here are some gems that caught my eye as I wandered all the rooms:

This portrait in the suite’s foyer was bought damaged, and Avery restored the canvas and framed it.

The view, of course, is just as nice as the art.

Anyone can make an appointment to shop in Avery’s suite. Just give her a call while she’s here this month and set one up: 404.307.0406 on her cell, or 202.628.9100 at the hotel.

Our perennial favorite, Natural Curiosities, also was at the show, this time featuring the art of French printmaker Paule Marrot, who was active in the early- to mid-20th century. Famed decorator Billy Baldwin and Jacqueline Kennedy were reportedly among her many clients.

Natural Curiosities also had these lovely French caricature panels on display:

Along the same lines as the Natural Curiosities prints, this Ibis print from Julian Chichester was enchanting:

Another compelling company is The Elizabeth Lucas Company, which uses mixed media on fabrics, natural, and recycled materials.

Sunfire on linen; Library of the Universe on silk

Blue Butterfly, resin over recycled cardboard; Coming Fall, prints on aluminum

And people need frames for their art, right? Well, Ashley Olson, a clever student at the Savannah College of Art & Design (aka SCAD), designed this puffy frame, which comes in four colors. Enjoy.

After that second gig, Disney had asked Shag what he might want to do next for them, and he mentioned the Haunted Mansion. It just so happened that its 40th anniversary was coming up this year.

I have a childhood full of memories of going through the ride at Disneyworld in Florida – the façade is different, but both have the same elevator with the stretching portraits, which Shag and I both agree is our favorite part of the ride.

Having Shag do art for Disneyland is like having Architect Michael Graves or Designer Isaac Mizrahi do work for Target – it’s a big deal for such a well-known artist (at least, among those who are keen on mid-century styles – a piece by California Modern magazine explains the allure here).

You can preview Shag’s Haunted Mansion products right here, along with a story on the anniversary here.

When Shag was preparing for his Haunted Mansion series, he said Disney offered to let him walk through the ride with all the lights on, and spend as much time in there as he wanted. But because that’s not how anybody else experiences the ride, he said, “I didn’t want the magic to be spoiled.”

Instead, he went to the park as it opened on one winter day, when the crowds were sparse, and took the ride like any other tourist. And he took it again, over and over, “like, 25 times,” he said. “I brought my sketch pad, and I’d have to draw in the dark and make little notes – rough sketches. Every time, I saw something new, something I never noticed before.”

Such as, the Black Widow Bride with her headless husbands,

or the ghostly quintet in the graveyard,

or the haunted ballroom,

or the ghoulish apparitions that ride with you on the doom buggies. Shag cleverly inserted his son, Zach, 7, and his daughter, Zoey, 10, into the doom buggy on the right.

Vastu is like a couple other home-related stores I’ve seen that double as an art gallery, featuring a rotating selection of artists.  This week they are displaying works by Shawna Cross,

and Brian Petro.

They also have whimsical pieces by Seletti, the Italian company that makes porcelain figures out of whimsical everyday objects.

I also fell for the sculptural wood-veneer lighting from LZF, a Spanish company.

And let’s not forget that Vastu also offers interior design services.

Here’s one of the owners, Jason Claire, standing with a design board in the store’s basement design studio.

A board like this…

Turns into a room like this:

I’m glad I went. Something tells me it won’t be the last time.