50 Objects and Counting

It's like Richmond reduced.

The new show at the Valentine, "A History of Richmond in 50 Objects" is a crash course in the city's history.

And free for this, the opening weekend.

Let me be the first to say that the undisputed highlight of the show, for me anyway, was a  black and white 1955 "Guided Tour of Richmond" made by some Hollywood company that went around talking up cities worth visiting.

Once you get past the cliched background music of "Dixie" and "Swanee," it's a compelling mid-century look at our little city.

The VMFA is touted as, "The building is entirely air-conditioned," despite gallery walls that look like they're in need of a paint job.

What made my heart flutter was the shot of the Boulevard entrance, the one I insist on using since it was re-opened after the renovation, and still the most welcoming, in my opinion.

I was surprised, however, to see that that entrance used to boast fountains and sculpture, making it even grander than what it is now.

Maybe the VMFA could get working on bringing that back.

University of Richmond was described as, "Built on rolling hills under huge trees," with a shot of the Greek amphitheater, looking very sedate compared to when Fugazi played there back at the turn of the century.

A shot of Maymont ("Richmond's most beautiful park") showed a worker using one of those cylinder-like push mowers to cut the grounds.

There was a guy with total job security.

Byrd Park was described as having "Three lakes for boating and fishing."

The announcer said that we had "fine air-conditioned shops" and we were a "major manufacturing center."

We saw all the major hotels - Jefferson, John Marshall, Murphy and Richmond- and some of our finest eating establishments - Hot Shoppes and Howard Johnson.

But that film was only one of the 50 objects, so after watching it twice, I began checking out the other 49.

There was a 1971 pantsuit worn by a recently promoted female executive working at Thalhimer's, with an explanation that both her job title and attire were evidence of breaking through the glass ceiling.

A watercolor from 1866 showed a bucolic view of the city but the title tellingly showed the artist's feelings about us.

"Richmond, Virginia, Where Men and Women are Bought and sold Like Cattle."

Ouch, but sadly, true.

One of my favorite objects was a 1934 diorama of city hall, not because of what it showed but because of who had created it.

Actually, the artist wasn't known, but whoever he or she was, they'd gotten the assignment from the Works Project Administration, the federal art project that kept poor artists from starving during the Depression.

Oh, for such an administration in these lean times.

I even saw a familiar name on the column supporting a list of those who'd contributed to the exhibit.

There it was: Janet Lundy, Museum Technician.

I know her as Janet Lundy, Show-Goer and Enthusiastic Dancer, but whatever.

From a Civil War-era mourning dress to an early television, the show had stuff of every possible ilk.

And they're seeking out object #51, taking public input for ideas.

As I walked around the gallery, I cam face to face with a man with a baby in his arms.

"I'm trying to instill a love of history in him," he joked. "It doesn't seem to be working."

I wouldn't be so sure, my friend.

History geeks sprout from the unlikeliest places.

I should know.