In D.C. Dream Day, we ask our favorite people in the area to tell us how they would spend a perfect day in the District.
In Nekisha Durrett’s world, underrepresented voices are no longer hidden in the shadows, but idolized by the public. The 44-year-old artist uses her larger-than-life installations as a canvas to champion marginalized communities, commanding the attention of spectators who might have previously ignored these discounted groups.
“Sometimes when I’m making my work, I think of an 8-year-old version of myself who would have liked to have seen more representations of people who were a bit more like me,” says Durrett, who also teaches museum studies at Duke Ellington School of the Arts. “I didn’t see representations of women, or especially black women, or especially black queer women.”
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She brought queer black voices to the fore with a 48-by-30 foot digital drawing that was displayed on the windows of Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library in 2015. The artwork, which featured a large, heart-shaped purple balloon that read “love you miss celie,” was inspired by a scene in “The Color Purple” where two female characters kiss. Once the library reopens this year, she will display another installation based on King’s 1967 speech at Cardozo High School.
At a moment when the world has its guard up, the Petworth resident reminisces on a simpler time when social distancing didn’t exist. She would chat up visitors viewing her portrait of African American essayist and novelist James Baldwin at the National Portrait Gallery and enjoy other crowded spots with ease during her dream day in Washington.
I’m imagining this all on a Sunday. I have a fitness trainer [Dominique Graham] in the neighborhood that I go to on Sundays at ChampTime Fitness. I would work out and burn off some calories only to gorge and consume more calories at Timber Pizza. Timber has a breakfast on Saturdays and Sundays with the same bagels as Call Your Mother. They also make biscuits; I would get a couple biscuits with butter and jam.
Share this articleShareAfter that, I would meet a friend for a walk at Rock Creek Cemetery. My wife [Erin McCleary] and I take walks up there, and it’s really beautiful. I would go there to visit my favorite tree and visit the “Grief” statue, which is a memorial to Clover Adams, wife of Henry Adams. After she committed suicide, Henry Adams commissioned Augustus Saint-Gaudens to make a memorial to his wife. The memorial was supposed to represent this Buddhist idea of nirvana, but everyone who sees the statue now refers to it as the “Grief” statue.
I would then go to President Lincoln’s Cottage after Rock Creek Cemetery. It’s across the street from the cemetery and has a lot of cultural and personal significance — it’s where my wedding reception was held! Best wedding venue in the city, in my opinion ... I’m often blown away by the fact that I live only two blocks from this site. We marvel at the big oak trees along the way and imagine them to be the same trees that Lincoln may have passed on his daily horseback rides to and from the White House. Thinking about the significance of this place is especially important to me now, as I try to bear in mind that out of the most difficult times, there can come transformation and light.
I feel like right now the one thing I really miss is going to museums, and I miss Barack and Michelle Obama, so I would visit the National Portrait Gallery because it’s my favorite museum. A few yards away from Obama’s portrait by Kehinde Wiley is my own portrait of James Baldwin from the Outwin Boochever Portrait Competition. One of the things I liked to do before was to be incognito and watch people just engage with the piece. But now, I wouldn’t be shy to introduce myself as the artist. I feel like human touch and connection feels so sacred to me that I would happily engage in that.
From there, I’d walk to the National Gallery of Art and catch the 3:30 p.m. concert. My wife and I go there and listen to beautiful, classical concerts in the West [Building]. And because they’re trying to jam in as many people as possible, they have these tiny metal folding chairs that were kind of uncomfortable and really close to one another. Reflecting on that moment now, I took it for granted before; just sitting next to someone, having small talk and feeling that warmth from a stranger would feel nice.
I had this field trip scheduled with my students to go to Los Angeles, and my wife is like, “I feel like you guys are going to postpone this trip or the flight is going to get canceled.” And I said, “No, that’s not going to happen.” She said if I had to cancel or postpone this trip, I’d have to take her out to dinner, and the rest is history. I’d take her to Rooster & Owl. We’d have the same server we had the first time, who was so funny and accommodating. The food is so delicious. The chef there, Yuan Tang, made us these lettuce wedges that weren’t like lettuce, it just melted in your mouth.
From Rooster & Owl, we would go to Ice Cream Jubilee. I’m lactose intolerant, but not on my fantasy day — I would order the MarionBerry. And with our ice cream cones in hand, we would walk to the cherry blossoms. The sun would be setting and a low fog would be hanging over the Tidal Basin. And then, the most remarkable thing that would happen is that a stranger would see us, struggling to take our selfies, and would ask if we would like for them to take our picture. Then, with an ungloved hand, they would take our photo and give us the camera back, and we wouldn’t have hand sanitizer.
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