They Don't Know How Far We'll Go

It's not just about the art, it's also about the improvement in the scenery.

Every day I cross Broad and Belvidere and, no question, the southwest corner is underwhelming.

Surface parking lot, architecturally unimpressive apartment building, shabby Chinese take-out.

Translation: I am completely stoked for VCU's Institute for Contemporary Art to take over that corner.

And while anyone with any interest at all has already seen the rendering of what it will look like, tonight I got a more in-depth peek at what's to come.

Opening at the Virginia Center for Architecture was "Steven Holl Architects: Forking Time."

For the uninitiated, Holl is the creative force behind the design of the ICA.

On display were a row of watercolor sketches of the new 38,000 square foot building and a series of study models of it, all explorations of the architect's design journey.

It's an enlightening exhibit for the insight it gives into the creative process over time.

Words are scribbled on the sketches, showing the thought process as things were worked out.

I learned that there will a double front to the ICA, one on the B & B corner and one from the sculpture garden.

Guess which one this visitor intends to use.

You got it; I'll be making my entrance through the garden and (wait for it) "thinking field."

How wonderful is that?

Sure, there are other stand-out features: a reflecting pond of recycled water, a cafe, a 243-seat performance space and four "forking" galleries, each with a different feel and focus for the ever-changing exhibitions of the new.

Simply put, the ICA will capture the energy of contemporary art.

And, as arts dean Joe Seipel said at the opening tonight, "It'll be an incubator for new art."

Almost as importantly, this Jackson Ward resident will get to walk by it every single day on her daily constitutional.

I can hardly wait for 2015.

Once I finished dreaming about the future, I went off to the National for some dream pop, courtesy of Baltimore's Beach House.

And if you don't know what I mean by that, consider this exchange between two Facebook friends.

Him: If anyone needs two Beach House tickets for tonight, let me know.
Her: Don't tempt me. I need sleeeep.
Him: Beach House is LIKE sleep.

Humor aside, I prefer to think of them as melancholy songs with woozy keyboards and insistent drumming, a sound of which I'm very fond.

I'd seen them as openers back in 2007 and must have liked what I heard because I can't even remember the headliner.

Then I'd had a ticket to see them back in May in Charlottesville and hadn't gone, so I was owed a night of Beach House.

Tonight I collected.

The most surprising part of the evening was only seeing two people I knew (one of whom hadn't been to the National since I took him to see Dashboard Confessional back in December 2010!) and both only near the end.

The opener was Dustin Wong, a guy with a guitar and lots of pedals.

"This is my first show playing with Beach House," he said. "It's a real honor to be here."

His endless looping of various guitar sounds brought to mind my friend Dave Watkins, who plays dulcitar and loops in a similar fashion.

Coincidentally, Dave was playing a show tonight, too and while Dustin was good, he's no Dave Watkins, if you know what I mean.

And if you've ever seen Dave create layers of sound, you do know.

I watched the crowd slowly won over by Dustin as they became intrigued by so much sound coming from one guy.

A long break followed but I held my ground in front of the sound booth for the main event.

When Beach House arrived onstage, it was with little talking.

As a trio, they were lined up at the front of the stage.

It was great to have the drummer especially so close to the crowd since that's usually the musician relegated to the back.

The band did a lot of alternating of their most recent  album "Bloom" and their defining previous album "Teen Dream."

The crowd greeted the second song "Norway" with a roar.

Singer Victoria's voice sounded even more languid than it had on the original.

Just a few songs in and two things were apparent: there wasn't going to be any direct light on the band and there wasn't going to be much between-song chatter.

Everyone in the room seemed willing to accept both.

Victoria was playing her keyboards in the center of the stage and often bending forward to do so, leaving her long hair to trail the keys.

In a burst of unexpected connection, she asked, "How is everyone doing? This is our first time in Richmond. And that's the end of my story."

No attention hog, that one.

She had unusually expressive hand gestures; if one or both hands weren't involved playing, she was making dramatic gestures with them as she sang.

Stevie Nicks would have been proud.

Their last song, "Take Care," had every couple in the room in full-on sway and/or kissing mode.

Stand beside it, we can't hide the way it makes us glow
It's no good unless it grows
Feel this burning love of mine

Once they left the stage, the crowd clapped insistently for a longer than usual time until they returned.

"10 Mile Stereo" put everyone over the edge with its galloping intensity and hopeful lyrics.

The heart is a stone
And this is a stone that we throw
Put your hand on this stone
It's the stone of a home you'll know
They say we will go far
But they don't know how far we'll go

"Thank you for everything," the succinct Victoria said afterwards.

For their last song, the lights finally focused onstage so we could see Victoria and her band mates end our evening together.

It was only while playing her keyboard ferociously then that Victoria dropped her head and began twirling that long mane of hair in a big circle.

Mad audience reaction and then, boom, it was over.

Hard to believe anyone thinks that's like sleep.