Above grade, the building rises 60 feet, with light filtering into glass-walled galleries through the facade’s decorative screen, the pattern derived from historical ones made by renowned black ironworkers in Savannah and Charleston. These galleries celebrate the African-­American contribution to music, theater, film, television, and the visual arts. Bigger artifacts, including a red Cadillac belonging to Chuck Berry and George Clinton’s Mothership—a 1,200-pound aluminum stage prop—have been installed but are under wraps for now. Smaller display cases with names of artists such as Prince and Ray Charles are mostly unfilled at this point, though images of one controversial inclusion, Bill Cosby, stood out.

At the highest level is a terrace-like lookout facing west over the city and toward the Wash­ington Monument (unfortunately, metal panels of the facade’s top tier lop off views of the obelisk’s pinnacle). “This is a critical moment to reflect,” says lead designer David Adjaye.

Other main spaces include the Oprah Winfrey Theater, where panels similar to those of the facade, but smaller and silver, clad its interior. “On the facade, they filter light; here, they filter sound,” says Freelon Group president Phil Freelon.

Most surprising is the central hall, not for what it includes but for what it is missing. A major part of the original design, a dense forest of thin wood columns, was to be suspended from the ceiling but didn’t survive cost-cutting measures. “That was the biggest disappointment,” admits Adjaye, who leaves open the possibility for its return.

The building, which Adjaye calls a “once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to design this kind of project on this kind of site,” has a handsome presence on the Mall, and is partic­ularly striking in juxtaposition to the classical white buildings surrounding it. But with much of the interior still unfinished, the final impact of its design is yet to be seen.