Kamasi Washington Opens Up LACMA for Epic, 100-Musician Performance

The design of the new Los Angeles County Museum of Art, which just opened up to previews for LACMA members and media in the past few days, has reasonably been described as controversial, to say the least. But for an opening attraction, the museum’s overseers could not have picked anything less polarizing than Kamasi Washington‘s three-night stand at the museum Thursday through Saturday, filling the still-empty gallery spaces with an epic-scale performance galleries that came off as the symphonic-jazz equivalent of a home run.

The new David Geffen Galleries, which will not open for art exhibition purposes until April 2026, encompass 110,000 square feet, on the upper floor of a new 350,000-foot concrete building that begins on the historical LACMA campus and extends across Wilshire Blvd. all the way to the south side of the street. Nearly all of that seemingly endless expanse was filled with the sound of music during Washington’s climactic 90-minute performance Saturday night — but not the same sound, from area to area. There were 10 different staging areas for different groups of musicians from one end of the amoeba-shaped structure to the other, all performing elements of “Harmony of Difference,” a six-song suite that the saxophonist and composer had expanded for this live premiere. Washington presided over a traditional jazz ensemble in one of the biggest and most central spaces, but attendees were encouraged to walk around and hear variations on the same pieces being simultaneously performed by a choir, two string sections, a woodwinds section, a brass section and four other full jazz septets on top of the one that included the composer himself.

It was a “choose your own jazz adventure” experiment in trying to experience as many of the 10 stations as possible, sequentially (at least for those who didn’t keep their feet planted firmly in front of the star for the duration, as it appeared at least a couple of hundred people out of the 2,000 attending each night did). For the musically omnivorous, it was very much an opportunity to get the day’s steps in, traversing back and forth through the length of the galleries to the point of working up a sweat, as the LACMA air conditioning tried to keep up with the number of bodies inside and in motion on a hot day where the setting sun was streaming through the new building’s floor-to-ceiling windows.

It sounded like a grand experiment, on paper… something more in the tradition of large-scale merry pranksters of the past, from John Cage to Flaming Lips, than anything common to the jazz world, certainly. But what was it like in practice, you ask? Both exhilarating and frustrating. Exhilarating, to know that it is possible to arrange brilliantly for more than a hundred musicians divided into 10 distinct-but-interrelated groups, and that “Harmony of Difference” did not let down on that front. Frustrating, to fall in love with the strings or woodwinds or whatnot and want to stay all or most of the show, while having to make difficult (but, let’s face it, fun-hard) choices about when to move on, and where. Even with a map, some confusion inevitably reared its head — “Wait, have I seen both string sections yet, or have I circled around to the same string section four times?” (These fall under Good Problems to Have.)

In the introductory remarks, patrons were urged to keep as quiet as possible in order to experience the possibilities of hearing overlapping ensembles. That was too tall an order for most, and although talking would normally be a buzz-kill during a Washington performance (like the ones he’s got booked coming up at L.A.’s new Blue Note club), it’s hard to blame 2,000 folks caught up in something this experiential for keeping up a low murmur. But some of the stages had as few as a couple dozen onlookers at a time, all attentive and respectful, and it was possible to become enraptured in at least a singular performance at these less crowded spots, even if the overlap was limited mostly to whatever was happening in a particular conductor’s in-ears.

But with a little effort, it was possible to find a hallway here or there where there was a promised melding of sounds. Pro tip on that, in case something like this ever goes down again: Find the lone brass section, and then look for a spot to settle partway between that and the next nearest attraction. Brass just has the unfair advantage, when it comes to spillover.

There was a message as well as method to the madness. Washington made some remarks before and between suite pieces about our diversity being a feature, not a flaw — something that counts as a political statement in 2025, even if it might’ve seemed like the most benign possible commentary a year ago. Anyone who ever had an appreciation for symphonic music has already made a stand for a kind of DEI, whether they knew and liked it or not, the message seemed to be. Before each of the six movements, Washington (whose narrative voice was broadcast to all the distant stations) asked all the musicians and onlookers to briefly, gently chant the names of these sections — “Desire,” “Humility,” “Knowledge,” “Perspective,” “Integrity” and “Truth” — and it felt a little like all the grown-ups in the room being asked to do a small part to save Tinkerbell, or the republic, by invoking a few of the classic virtues.

If we could all just get along in offering assent with Washington’s wishes there, can we all find some agreement on the new LACMA building itself? That will be an impossible order. At least a little of the murmuring in the galleries surely was notes being shared about what everyone thinks of an art museum made up entirely of unfinished concrete, along with those aforementioned windows. Cozy or comforting, it’s not. There’s debate over whether it can properly be considered brutalism, if there are wide-open spaces for natural light to get in amid those bunker-like gray walls. The consensus seems to be yes… it’s just brutalism-with-a-view.

But after literally decades of debate over this remaking of LACMA, in answer to the eternal question “where is the harmony, sweet harmony?,” an answer was found, for the length of a weekend, in a Washington extravaganza that really did feel uniting. What is so funny about peace, love and understanding? Washington made it feel like it’s all right there in front of us… as long as we’re all willing literally put in a little legwork.