A Bold Break With Its Past

When its predecessor, a show on art nouveau curated by Greenhalgh, traveled from the V&A to the National Gallery in 2000, its complex installation called on the full resources of that wealthy, well-staffed institution. Mark Leithauser, who's the National Gallery's chief of design, heads a staff of about 35 designers and craftspeople. For a major installation such as "Art Nouveau," he can call on a team of contractors to boost that number. "The logistics of the thing are amazing," Leithauser says. ". . . It's a great big thing to bite off, for the Corcoran."

Compared with art-world big boys such as the V&A or the National Gallery, the Corcoran's a runt -- its exhibition-design team has only seven full-time staff, and that's counting several members of its art-school faculty -- and not even in the best of health. Years of neglect, and of slapdash renovation, have left some of the doors and moldings in its soaring galleries so paint-encrusted they look like something from an ancient tenement. Painters and designers are hard at work on a makeover, but there isn't money, or time, for reconstructive surgery.

The museum has a layout problem, too: Its galleries were never meant to host huge touring shows, so visitors will have to traipse up stairs and down corridors to take in all of "Modernism."

Aside from Greenhalgh, who has written several books on design and modernism, the Corcoran doesn't have much in-house expertise on the topic, and has no precedents or established procedures for managing a project of this scope.

"The bar has been raised," says Rebecca Gentry, filling the new post of vice president of institutional advancement at the Corcoran. "That's exciting, but it's hard." She says that if staff have been "pulling their hair out," it's because of the absurdly tight timelines for the show -- installation of the building's new front desks and doors is scheduled to be done March 10, just the day before the first previews -- and because of the new range of responsibilities they're forcing on everyone.

That, says Greenhalgh, was part of the point.

Even if the exhibition were never to attract a single soul, Greenhalgh insists it has already "succeeded for us," pushing a downhearted, disempowered staff toward teamwork and a can-do spirit.

Yet it's clear that bringing people in is the exhibition's crucial job. Greenhalgh's attention and conversation keep coming back to audience and attendance. "Ideally, 12 million people will come," he jokes. Then, with a prod from Gentry, he sobers up: He'd be "happy" with 100,000 people but thinks it will go higher. Something like 150,000 would be "good" (that's about how many showed up for "Modernism" at the V&A, despite competition from the soccer World Cup). Another 50,000 "would be breathtaking." That would bring it very close to the number who showed up to see Jackie's dresses, and closer to the almost 270,000 who came to see "Art Nouveau" at the National Gallery.

Though adults will be paying $14 to get in, Greenhalgh says he isn't counting on making money from "Modernism," which could cost as much as $2.5 million. He says he'd be delighted to break even. The real goal is to convince as broad a range of people as possible -- from art lovers to your average Joe, from potential sponsors to journalists to his museum peers -- of the Corcoran's newfound excellence and ambition.

Though "Modernism" ought to be sponsor-friendly -- think of all those design firms and skyscraper builders and furniture companies that might want to get behind it -- no corporate donors of any size have stepped up so far, with just a month to go. Most would have already committed this year's marketing funds well before being approached with "Modernism," which wasn't confirmed until late last summer. (The Corcoran says it is in sponsorship talks with one local company involved in regional and national real estate that already has links to the museum.)

But whatever the level of success in this round of pitches, the scale and ambition of "Modernism" has at least allowed the Corcoran to "be at the table," says Greenhalgh, as it might not have been before.

"We want the city to know we're alive and well and capable of doing this," Greenhalgh says.