The National World War II Memorial opened to the public earlier this year. I suppose that over time that I'll get used to its presence. As new as it is, its stone hasn't weathered at all yet. Seen in bright sunlight before the Reflecting Pool and the Lincoln Memorial, it shimmers like a CGI rendering of a real memorial. I'm aware of some of the design changes that took place, but this ring of standing stones still has a whiff of Albert Speer's monumentalism. The bronze wreaths are just ugly, and the gargantuan eagles trapped in the Atlantic and Pacific pavilions are not much better. The names of states and territories are clearly incised, so that our out-of-town visitors can find their homestates. The panel of 4,000 gold stars symbolizing combat deaths, viewed from a distance, recedes into meaninglessness; it looks like nothing but a pedestrian International Style grille.

I moved on to the much more sensitive Korean War Veterans Memorial for my first viewing since its dedication in 1995. The site is dominated by a sculpture in stainless steel by Frank Gaylord of nineteen fighters on patrol, in a triangular arrangement that owes something to art and something to reality. The slightly oversized figures ascend a low hill of polished black granite and low juniper shrubs. The men wear rain ponchos that serve to obscure the signs of rank, but we can see some cultural and ethnic differences, since this memorial reminds us that the combatants were a multinational force. To the soldiers' right as they climb is a north-facing wall of polished stone (a nod to Maya Lin's Vietnam Veterans wall across the Mall) that is graved with some inconsequential figures. But the wall gives back ghostly reflections of the nineteen fighters, perhaps a thought of the men who did not return. With their helmets unsnapped, the men have distinctive, readable faces: we see men who are watchful, commanding, tired, determined, scared.

The memorial makes excellent use of landscaping. Bill Clinton's administration apparently did not feel the need to slap his name on the dedicatory plaque; cf. the label for WW II, which gives sign of George W. Bush and his handlers.

posted: 6:57:41 PM