Exploring The Awakening: A 72-Foot Public Sculpture on the Potomac River

"The Awakening": A Giant Stirring Beneath Us

Some sculptures you pass by with a glance. Others stop you in your tracks, pulling you into their story. J. Seward Johnson Jr.’s The Awakening is the latter—a massive, unforgettable presence that feels alive. Spanning 72 feet, this isn’t just art you look at; it’s art you walk on, touch, and carry with you long after you’ve left.

A Story in Motion

Picture this: a colossal figure, frozen mid-struggle, breaking free from the earth. A hand reaches out, a knee pushes up, and a face twists in effort—all crafted from five massive aluminium pieces. It’s raw, visceral, and open to interpretation. Is this giant rising to life or being pulled back into the ground? That question lingers, and it’s what makes the sculpture so hauntingly personal. Each visitor sees something different—a spark of hope, a fight against the odds, or maybe just a quiet moment of becoming.

Aluminum’s Quiet Power 

The choice of aluminium is genius. It’s strong yet catches the light in a soft, almost ethereal way. Unlike the weighty permanence of bronze, aluminium feels fleeting, like it could shift with the wind. The surface isn’t glossy; it’s textured, almost organic, like weathered bone or driftwood. As an architect, I’m drawn to how materials can tell a story. Here, the aluminium doesn’t just hold the form—it amplifies the sculpture’s sense of movement and mystery.

From Mulch to Riverside 

When The Awakening first appeared in 1980 at Hains Point in Washington, D.C., it was set in a bed of mulch, as if the earth itself was churning to life. In 2008, it found a new home at National Harbour, nestled in the sandy banks of the Potomac River. The move changed everything. The sand adds a layer of poetry—evoking time, erosion, and the tides of memory. Now, with the river stretching out before it, the sculpture feels like a myth rising from the deep, both ancient and alive.

Art You Can’t Ignore

What I love most about The Awakening is how it invites you in. Kids scramble over the giant’s knee. Friends snap photos gripping the outstretched hand. It’s not art you stand back and admire from afar—it’s art you live with, even for a moment. As someone who thinks about how spaces shape us, this feels like a masterclass in public art. It doesn’t just decorate a place; it transforms it, turning a patch of sand into a stage for stories.

What’s Buried Within 

The Awakening makes you pause and look down, not up. It’s a reminder that something powerful—whether it’s creativity, resilience, or memory—is always stirring just beneath the surface. Standing next to that massive hand, you can’t help but feel small yet connected to something bigger.

Have you ever felt a place come alive through art? I’d love to hear about a sculpture or space that stopped you in your tracks.

For more musings on art, architecture, and the spaces that move us—stick around.

© Ar. Pallavi Vasekar