In her series Femmes du Maroc, Essaydi poses women to mirror well-known “Orientalist” paintings by European men, with the aim of demythologizing the exotic stereotype.

I found Essaydi’s work provocative, and I understand the idea that covering her photos with script gives these women “voice”, but I didn’t walk away feeling they were particularly empowered.

Maybe if I read Arabic. Or maybe I’m missing something.

Funny, I never considered Sargent’s Fumee d’Ambre Gris to be perpetuating a stereotype. I love it for its composition, its many shades of white, the positioning of the woman’s fingers, the texture of the cloth. It speaks of place to me, and Sargent’s technique is masterful.

I’m familiar with the fetishization of “Oriental” women; I saw plenty of it when I lived in China. But Sargent is no Gauguin.

I finally upgraded to an iPhone 4S, so I tried out the newest version of Instagram at the National Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden today. One of my favorite places in Washington.

Score one for Japan; this is cultural diplomacy at its finest.

On the occasion of the 100th anniversary of Japan’s gift of cherry trees to Washington, D.C., two of the city’s most prominent museums have organized once-in-a-lifetime exhibits of Japanese art, one with heavy involvement from the Japanese government.

Both exhibits succeed wildly; you know you’re looking at some of the finest Asian art ever created.

In partnership with the Japanese Imperial Household Agency, the National Gallery of Art presents “Colorful Realm: Japanese Bird and Flower Paintings“, a collection of 30 painted silk panels by Ito Jakuchu, the son of a wealthy merchant who retired early to paint and study Buddhism. His birds and flowers are fantastical and heavy with Buddhist meaning; the peacock pictured here represents culture and virtue, for example, while crowing roosters represent spiritual awakening.

Though the exhibit was crowded on a Saturday morning (it’s only on for one month, through April 29), the paintings positively glowed–a testament to the artist’s technique of painting both the front and back of the panels.

They’re rich and lustrous and made me want to go on a meditation retreat in Nara — precisely the effect the Imperial Japanese Household was hoping for when they agreed to let the paintings travel, I’m sure.

(On a side note, it’s great to see the National Gallery do something creative online, as they have with this haiku-writing activity.)

At the Sackler Gallery, Thirty-six Views of Mt. Fuji brings perennial dorm-room favorite Hokusai into fuller view, with the artist’s series of woodblock prints showing Mt. Fuji, near and far, as Japan’s True North.

Hokusai pioneered a new art form, introducing landscapes in print instead of painting, and showing the daily life of commoners around Tokyo (Edo) at a time when the country was on the brink of opening to the West.

There are beautiful landscapes here, but the prints depicting travelers and pilgrims in the foreground resonated with me the most. For them, Hokusai makes clear, Mt. Fuji is part-spirit guide, part-patriarch, and ever-present reminder of man’s place in the natural world.

Living in a city with no dominant natural features, I wonder if I’d feel a mythic connection to a Mt. Fuji in my midst.

My annual photo of the tulip display just down the street, at the Marriott Wardman Park. This year, made prettier by cherry blossom petals.

I’m guessing National Geographic’s current “Samurai: The Warrior Transformed” exhibit is drawing lots of families with young boys. After all, the show includes a healthy sampling of samurai swords and full sets of armor — beautiful in their own right, but not the highlight for me.

Instead, I was drawn to the gallery of early 20th century photos of Japan, taken by Eliza Scidmore, the first woman on National Geographic’s Board and the person responsible for bringing thousands of cherry trees to Washington. Scidmore, a Victorian-era writer, traveler and geographer, spent much of her adult life in and out of Japan and other countries in Asia, often visiting her diplomat brother.

The hand-tinted photos on display, including this one of geishas performing a tea ceremony, were taken for a 1914 article in National Geographic titled “Young Japan.”

This year marks the 100th anniversary of Japan’s gift of cherry trees to Washington, so it’s a good time to honor Scidmore, a woman whose life arc mirrors mine in more ways than one. I would have loved to invite her to a dinner party.

I’ve long been baffled by the National Gallery of Art’s sub-par website and stodgy social media presence, but they may have turned a corner.

Today, the gallery launched a new website offering more than 20,000 open access digital images from its collections. Great news for academics, Pinterest fans, bloggers and art enthusiasts of all stripes.

In my day job, I’ve seen up close how open access can change public perception of an institution for the good. It will be interesting to see if the National Gallery can leverage this move on social media and elsewhere to expand to new audiences. I hope so.

Now, if they can only figure out how to make it easier to donate on their website.

Posting this just because I love it. Makes me want to go back to Hong Kong. For more Hipstamatic pics of the city, see photographer Palani Mohan’s full slideshow on the Asia Society blog.

I seem to be drawn to Mohan’s work. He also published a great book of photos called Vanishing Giants: Elephants of Asia, which is sitting on my bookshelf.

Though this year’s cherry blossoms are officially predicted to peak the week of March 24, a number of trees have already popped in my neighborhood. It’s been a warm winter.

Aside from lifting the city’s mood, the blossoms bring a constellation of Japanese art exhibits to DC. A few I intend to check out this month:

> Hokusai: 36 Views of Mount Fuji (Freer/Sackler)

> Samurai: The Warrior Transformed (National Geographic Museum)

> Colorful Realm: Japanese Bird and Flower Prints (National Gallery of Art)

Consider these a Tidal Basin alternative. They’ll be a lot less crowded.

An interesting factoid about the world’s most visited museum surfaced in today’s New York Times Magazine:

“One study estimated the impact of the Louvre … on the French economy to be between $870 million and $1.4 billion in a single year.”

I know the Louvre is one of the world’s iconic cultural institutions, but the size of that figure surprised me, particularly in regard to tourism. Are there that many people for whom the Louvre is a primary draw in visiting France?

After a quick Google search, I unearthed the study itself, which addresses my question, if indirectly: “We find that 38–52% of foreign tourists visiting the Louvre, depending on the period of the year, recognize the museum as a genuine motivation [to visit Paris].”

That’s a healthy response, but then again, these data draw from tourists actually visiting the museum, so they were obviously motivated to begin with.

I’ve only visited Paris once, about 11 years ago, and did not visit the Louvre during my stay. My motivation at the time was 1) to meet up with a friend then living in Warsaw, and 2) walk the streets of Paris and generally take in the ambiance. Montmartre and the Eiffel Tower were highlights for me at the time.

My next trip to the city may well be prompted by the Louvre, however. After reading about the museum’s new Islamic art wing, set to open in September 2012 under a glass-and-steel flying carpet roof (cool), I’ve been thinking I need to return.

Maybe it’s a sign of age, but it would be reason enough for me now. And my Warsaw friend now lives in Geneva, which is that much closer to the city of light.

Andrew Wyeth’s Snow Flurries is now hanging in the lobby of the National Gallery of Art’s East Wing. Appropriate for mid-February, and a nice antidote to the CPAC crazies swarming my neighborhood this week.