Doing it Korean Style

I've been walking by Mama's Kitchen on my daily Grace Street walk for over four years now but I'd never stopped in to eat. Mid-morning just never seemed like the right time for Korean food.

So when I suggested lunch to a friend and she suggested something ethnic, Mama's was too close not to finally walk through its door.

For novices, we thought we did pretty well in choosing off the Korean Menu for Dummies, complete with pictures. The combos were irresistible because they came with dumplings, kimbap (sushi's lesser-known cousin), miso soup, rice, kimchi and veggies.

We got the beef bulgogi, long-marinated and extremely flavorful. I'd been looking at Mama's outdoor sign touting their bulgogi as long as I've been walking Grace Street.

Our other choice was the spicy squid stirfry, not nearly as distinctively Korean, but fabulous for its abundance of squid and crunchy vegetables. It was just as big a hit with the two of us. Mama had asked if we wanted it spicy and we'd said yes, but the heat was the manageable kind.

The view from inside Mama's was pure (Grace) street theater, probably at critical mass because it was the noon hour. Today's variable weather meant people were dressed in everything from jackets to shorts. We saw the mounted cops.

Talking city life and dogs for a good hour while we ate, we still had the makings of someone else's lunch when we finished, so my friend boxed up the remainder for her sure-to-be appreciative husband.

I, on the other hand, was lucky enough to leave with one of her homemade lemon cupcakes which she'd so kindly brought along knowing my sweet tooth.


We'd eaten early because I'd signed up to take a curator-led members tour of the Celebration of Print exhibit at VMFA that I'd just seen Monday.

I barely made it by 1:30 to join the group and the girl checking off names couldn't resist pointing out, "You were the first to RSVP!" underscoring that I was also the last to arrive. Hopefully the curator would forgive me for being a tad tardy.

Since I'd already seen the show, I came to hear what interesting tidbits Dr. Mitchell Merling might impart to the group and his first was a revelation.

"Prints can spend six months of every six years on display," he said. A woman immediately asked if that meant she should take down the prints from her walls. "Just don't leave the lights on at night," he warned.

I knew from seeing the show that there had been an etching revival in the 19th century in England and France, but I learned that this was when artists began breaking plates after a run, to ensure that the resulting prints were treated as individual works of art.

Dr. Merling finished by sharing road trip advice, telling us all to make sure we got to DC to see the Gauguin Show at the National Gallery which he called one of the best shows he'd ever seen. As if I didn't know.

I wanted to point out that I'd already seen the show and see if I could get some extra credit to make up for my tardiness, but I didn't want to be a showoff.

It was enough to head home knowing I had that lemon cupcake awaiting me. Forget validation; give me treats.

Mezzotints and Mistresses

Have you heard about the blockbuster show at the VMFA? No, not him!

Whereas the P-Man's show features his many periods, this one features a variety of big-name artists.

Even the less art-savvy will recognize rock stars like Rembrandt, Matisse, Whistler, Manet, Turner, Lautrec, Goya, and Corot.

Perhaps most surprisingly, the poet William Blake is represented.

If it sounds like an artistic party, it is. "A Celebration of Print: 500 Years of Graphic Art" is as much an overview of the printmaking tangents of art's biggest names as it is an overview of the 10,000-piece gift to the VMFA of Richmond-raised Frank Raysor.

And this show is a mere 100 pieces out of that 10,000.

I see years of stellar printmaking shows in VMFA's future, a fact which makes me very happy.

And as impressed as I was with seeing how so many talented painters fared as print makers, it was the lesser-known print makers who had me lingering in front of the brilliance.

Hailing from Scotland, James McBey's etching "Venetian Night" showed the atmospheric effects of the darkened canals; it was stunningly beautiful and had none of the crisp lines so typical of etchings.

Englishman Frank Short's mezzotint "Orion over Thames at Ranelagh," with its subtle gradations of tone was almost photographic and absolutely stunning. With a step back, it was completely believable as a drawing.

Richmond-born Nell Blaine's "Window Still Life" immediately called to mind painters Pierre Bonnard and Eduoard Vuillard's busy canvasses.

The charming scene was full of domestic details: a drink with a straw, a candle holder, a window table.

A more recent etching and aquatint, Richard Haas' 2007 "57th Street Looking East" was also almost photographic in its detail and overall impression.

Only in the sky portion did it appear to be an etching.

This ability of print makers to create nearly perfect images was no doubt the impetus for print maker Felix Bracquemond to found the Society of Etchers in 1862, intended to preserve that art form against the encroachment of photography.

Fortunately for people like me who appreciate both, they were able to co-exist.

I'd gone to the show with a friend after a delightful al fresco lunch at Lamplighter (he tried to tell me how good the a/c felt inside, but I was having none of it).

What we were having was the Goatherd's Mistress (leeks, asparagus, goat cheese and ham on ciabatta) and the Lamplighter (apples, strawberries, nuts, bleu cheese, mesclun, chicken salad) in the warm spring air.

Nearby, a toddler was contained under a picnic table and a couple discussed another couple guilty of too much PDA.

Meanwhile, we were still talking about his breakup and his relationship future, which is roughly the same conversation we were having about me a couple of years ago.

Even so, I'm no expert on the subject.

Friend was unable to resist treating himself to a whoopee pie for dessert but then said he was too full to eat it, so he bagged it to take home.

Or maybe he was punishing me for making him sweat outside while we ate.

Entering the museum, he acknowledged that he was a tad sweaty.

"Smells like boy!' he said, quoting a co-worker who'd told him that when he'd gotten sweaty at work.

Pshaw, I told him, no girl's going to care about boy smell when he's got a whoopee pie to share.

I still didn't get a bite.

Abnormally Attracted to Prints

I think I must be attracted to historical prints for the same reasons I love old photographs. It's the sense of historic detail they provide which I find so compelling, but then my curiosity is second only to my appetite.

Leaving my apartment just as the sky opened up, I arrived at VMFA's Pauley Center to sunshine and a warm breeze. Too bad I can't always affect that kind of climate change just by driving two miles.

"Depicting the World in the Seventeenth Century: Wenceslaus Hollar and the Art of Printmaking" was the topic of Dr. Craig Hanson's lecture and a group of print lovers had assembled to hear him speak.

It was being presented in conjunction with VMFA's exhibit "A Celebration of Print: 500 Years of Graphic Art" which celebrates the 10,000 prints Richmonder Frank Raysor donated to the museum (and hangs through May 22).

The focus was on the 17th century because that was when print culture really exploded as people sought to see and understand the bigger world.

As prints became a big deal, stalls were set up in prominent locations throughout Europe to attract collectors, the unsung heroes of art according to Hanson. How else do we peasants get to see some art except through the gifts of collectors to museums?

Hollar, born in Prague but active in England for his artistic career, was notable for his sheer output, made easier because he had a wealthy patron (and wouldn't it be a better world if that patronage system still nurtured artistic talent?) who had an entourage that also included Rubens and Van Dyck (outstanding company, indeed).

Much of Hollar's work came in the form of etchings for local history books as the gentry decided it was important to have their history documented (we don't need to document no stinkin' peasants). Hanson said that this was the emergence of historical preservation and awareness as conscious movements; making history matter for the present was a new concept.

Hollar did the illustrations for "Antiquities of Warwickshire," with text by Dugdale, a book that upped the pictorial ante from a tradition of about five per book to 200 illustrations in this one.

In a further display of virtuosity, illustrations were placed on pages with text and not on separate pages as had been the custom, despite how much easier that method had been for the printer.

In addition to maps and topographical views, Hollar pictured ecclesiastical dress as a means of preserving the traditions of the Catholic Church which had been outlawed in England. Likewise, abbeys and other formerly religious buildings were celebrated as ruins in the book.

Looking at Hollar's detailed etchings was like looking at 17th century photographs if such a thing had existed. Now that I've had my introductory class in printmaking, I can't wait to see the VMFA exhibition and explore prints over the course of 500 years.

I may want to stop by Amuse and enjoy a visit from the absinthe fairy first, but the printmaking exhibit is a celebration after all. To each her own when it comes to celebratory preferences.