Frank W.
Yelp
I like the National Building Museum enough to be a member. My wife and I do not even live in Washington, D.C., but my elderly father does, and I am in town just about every month to check up on him (he still lives by himself). So I expect I'll go at least once per year. I also want to support the institution regardless, in the hope it will continue to develop. I offer utmost praise, with a comment that is less a critique than the expression of an aspiration.
There is a reason to visit this space, separate from the exhibits. It is quite well known as a rental venue. If you are in the area or frequent it, and you are on the circuit of dinners, the black tie galas, you no doubt have been hosted in its Great Hall, a national landmark, what once was the Pension Building for veterans. Presidents have used it for inaugural balls, and it has the quality you would wish for on such an occasion, a grandeur that is not affected by post-modernist irony, a straightforward attempt to communicate through scale (among the most sizable Corinthian columns in the world, they claim) that the city and the nation are to be respected, to be held in awe. Even empty, it is impressive. You can stop in without a ticket, just to gaze (the other space nearby, if you like this sort of thing, is the Kogod Courtyard of the National Portrait Gallery, my favorite indoor public space, bar none). A little display, permanently in its own room, tells the story of the Quartermaster General, Montgomery C. Meigs, who designed the edifice. He specified low rise stairs so disabled soldiers could get up and down. Some have derided it over the years, but it has stood the test of time. It is old school, to be sure, but I would pick this style over Neo-Gothic. When this was an office, you must have walked into the splendor, aware that bureaucrats were grinding away on your behalf. As much as in any dystopian vision of the future, the vastness surroundings would have communicated, we are huge, you are tiny.
On Labor Day, my wife and I had a date downtown. We went specifically for the Brutalism exhibit. That movement, in my opinion appropriately reviled for the utter failure of its proponents to respect humanity or human beings, rendering the inhabitants of the structures the equivalent of insects, and, for that matter, offering no solace even for ants (given the propensity for unfinished concrete), has been re-appropriated, and, at least in image, literally in photos, rehabilitated, through social media. I am not expressing anything original, for various articles of some expertise and erudition have been published pointing out how attractive these imposing monstrosities are as subjects, empty and foreboding, straight on or at a Dutch angle, as if architecture had achieved its apex by eliminating its users. But compare the Building Museum itself to the best of Brutalism. The Building Museum is, for the apprehension it might inspire, nonetheless welcome in a sense: come in, it says, and witness the workings of the government. It does not declare, this environment is meant to crush you into the dust from whence you came.
The galleries are upstairs, where the offices were. We also saw the collection of miniature buildings, tourist souvenirs, which were a delight (I grew up where that giant tire is IRL, by the Detroit airport), and the Lego constructions adjoining a room where kids could play with the building blocks. Everything is quality. I only wish there were increased quantity. More than any other single museum I patronize, I enjoy what I experience -- my wife and I probably visit a dozen museums in any given year, and I wander through, feeling educated but not always reveling in the sights. I leave, as I suppose one should, wanting more.
The Building Museum is a bit off the beaten path. I do not wish for it to be overrun. But if you have the least interest in architecture, design, urban planning, etc., this is a good hour to spend. Even if you care not a bit for the subject, I encourage you if you are passing by to stop in and gawk.