Month: July 2002

If you have difficulty making decisions, the Sample Room wants you. As the name implies, this brand-new, swank café bar is centered around sharable, nibbleworthy combination platters—3,500 possible combinations of veggie, meat, cheese, and seafood treats. That goes for wine too: Try a number of vintages with a flight of three 2-oz. glasses. Our entrees were nothing terribly exotic—smoked pork loin and turkey breast, with mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables—but it’s comfort food done elegantly and in good-sized portions. We recommend the carefully spiced and smoky cream of mushroom soup. A stone’s throw away from a cardboard-box factory and Gabby’s Saloon, the Sample Room brings casual class to the neighborhood. It’s inviting and comfortable contemporary interior in dark browns and warm colors, under a restored original ceiling, is quite the change from the slightly seedy Polish Palace it replaced. On our visit the space seemed a trifle loud, even at one-third capacity, but service was friendly and eager to please—our coffee was topped off no less than five times, and the manager proudly made the rounds showing patrons a turn-of-the-century photo, discovered during remodeling, of the old bar and its much-mustachioed regulars. It might be nice, in future, to see the place add a patio out back to take advantage of the river view, but on our next visit our biggest problem will be choosing which of the four dessert chocolates to try first. The Sample Room, (612) 789-0333

“Greek food is arousing,” declared one of my table companions after a big bite of his spicy soutzokakia sandwich. The rest of us raised our eyebrows and waited for him to explain. He chose instead to blush and mumble that he “just meant intriguing.” But he’s right. All that garlic and olive oil, lemony ambelodolmades in grape leaves, sweet and tangy roasted red peppers—it’s zesty and Zorbalicious. Step into your own personal Poseidon adventure in this airy two-room café in Old St. Anthony, tan and blue with vines and stone statuary decorating the walls. Stacked in a pile on the radiator are books on Greek culture and Northeast Minneapolis history—take a few minutes before your meal arrives to transport yourself mentally from East Hennepin to coastal Thessalonica. You can’t go wrong with that old standby the gyros, but try to make room for the pureed garlic skordalia and the tasty tyro, feta cheese with olive oil and peppers. Top it off with the thick, rich and dark Greek coffee—just don’t get caught unawares by the loamy grounds at the bottom of the cup. Gardens of Salonica, (612) 378-0611

Maybe this will be the year when you make that extra effort to actually find the art at the Uptown Art Festival. Sure, there are food booths, live music, games, and the general hubbub of another summer festival. And who can deny the cheap thrill of wandering around the middle of Lake Street slightly buzzed, and shopping for machine-made Mexican rugs? But honestly, there really is a lot of genuine art to be found—it just gets overwhelmed by the 500,000 people expected to converge on Uptown this weekend. More than 400 “arts and crafts” exhibitors bring their wares to Minneapolis from as far away as Florida and New York. And while there are plenty of great local artists who don’t make it into a vendors’ booth, well… this isn’t precisely the place to take a long look at serious art, either. Did we mention the food booths, live music, and games? On a vaguely related note, let us mourn the loss of MCAD’s wonderful gallery upstairs at Calhoun Square, one of the real (and secret) gems of the native Twin Cities art scene.

The word genius gets tossed around too often—I myself used it recently to praise a particularly delicious hamburger—but when you’re talking about Pablo Picasso, it’s the only thing to call him. “Guernica” aside, he worked in so many disciplines and reinvented his approach so many times, it’s easy to overlook just how profound and wide-ranging his influence really is. That also makes it necessary for any exhibition that hopes to have a coherent focus to zoom in on just one aspect of his artistry. This MIA exhibit gathers around six dozen of his prints, etchings and lithographs, spanning nearly 70 years. Of course, anyone with the least interest in art already knows something about Picasso, so you might well wonder if you really ought to bother with yet another exploration of the most famous artist of the last century. Well, of course you should. Picasso might have invented Cubism, but he’ll never be square. MIA, (612) 870-3200

Sometimes we’re struck by the realization that most of the world’s problems would be solved if we simply paid attention to the right people. Children’s Home Society is one of the great institutions of a benevolent society, focusing on the only real hope we have for the future—our children. Dating back to the 19th century as one of the pioneers of modern adoption, the Children’s Home Society of Minnesota can be excused if this event—an honest-to-goodness polo match, along with a full agenda of carnival entertainments—smacks a bit of noblesse oblige. If you were looking for a reason to be heartbroken that the state has decimated the polo grounds out at Fort Snelling, here it is. You’ll have to hoof it all the way out to Maple Plain to join in this worthy cause. It’s polo! How often do you get to see that? Children’s Home Society of Minnesota, (651)646-7771

There are few surer cures for a child-size case of crankiness than a sunny afternoon in Como Park; if you need a further excuse, this day’s-worth of traditional Japanese holiday fun is a sure bet. There’s plenty of visually spectacular entertainment to immerse them in, from taiko drumming by Theater Mu and martial arts to the twilight obon ceremony at the heart of the festival, in which dozens of lanterns are floated in Como’s frog pond to honor the dead. This year, the festival adds a meditation tent where you can center yourself with the help of folks from Clouds In Water Zen Center, and a bon odori street dance—put on your dancing clogs and join in. Hungry? Nibble on dishes like sushi and yakitori—or hot dogs, if you want to go that route. Just don’t forget to say domo arigato . Como Park, (651) 487-8200

Here’s 18 reasons to stay out of the sun and revel in dark places and icy paranoia. We start with a couple of little-known Bogart flicks, High Sierra and Dead Reckoning , that might be of interest to Bogey fanatics but are mostly little-known for good reason. But the other four films are much better bets, especially Jules Dassin’s Night and the City , with Richard Widmark as an American grifter struggling to make it big in postwar London. And don’t miss John Huston’s superb The Asphalt Jungle , chronicling the collapse of a crime gang led by Sterling Hayden as their jewelry-store heist falls victim to squabbling, encroaching law and their own greed. Later in the month, Oak Street chills out with two weeks of the decidedly cold Roman Polanski. He’s best remembered for the good but overrated detective noir Chinatown and Rosemary’s Baby —in which, you may remember, Mia Farrow learns to love her baby despite the unpleasant fact that he’s the Antichrist. (Polanski’s also famous for being the husband of Manson Family victim Sharon Tate, and as a fugitive from a statutory-rape charge. But we digress.) Here’s a chance to dig deep into his worthy filmography, screening all the full-length features, from his Polish-language Knife in the Water to 1994’s Death and the Maiden (skipping, thankfully, the disastrous Pirates and What?). Though Polanski flirted with Merchant-Ivory gentility in 1979’s Thomas Hardy adaptation Tess , his best work is all about horror. His Macbeth takes Shakespeare’s most nihilistic, bloody play and adds more blood and an even bleaker outlook. For what passes for his lighter side, check out The Fearless Vampire Killers , a deft and almost sweet-natured Dracula spoof featuring a Hassidic bloodsucker who waves away crosses with “Oy, have you got the wrong vampire!” Oak Street Cinema, (612) 331-3134

Victor Hugo’s sprawling, tragic novel was an instant sensation when it was first published in 1862, and its star has never really dimmed. It’s been put on film many times, as early as 1909. But its greatest popular success came in the 1980s, when Parisian songwriters Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg decided to break out of the pop-song ghetto and get into musical theater. Les Mis did that in a big way, its sweeping tale of poverty, injustice, and rebellion perfectly suited to grand reinvention on the stage. The story centers on Jean Valjean, sent to prison for stealing a loaf of bread, who escapes and stays on the lam for years, struggling to find peace and redemption. He’s hunted by implacable policeman Javert, who’s heard of forgiveness but thinks the whole concept is a mistake. Meanwhile, Paris’ coffeehouse radicals, street gangs, and desperate poor are getting restless, and the city is about to blow—the French love their revolutions. Critics have often sneered that this is all sentimental hogwash, but Broadway frequently works best when it’s over-the-top melodramatic. And with 40 million people having seen it already, it’s clear that Miserables loves company. Ordway Theater, (651) 224-4222

Sad, scruffy lions held at bay with whips, embarrassed elephants performing pratfalls for a peanut. Let’s face it, old-style circuses seem fairly tawdry these days. Not so with Cirque du Soleil, which breathes new life into the big top by focusing on its dazzling array of human stunt artists—aerial acrobatics and daring trapeze-work, leavened with a bit of mime and clownery, lush costuming and a soundtrack rich on New Age and world beats. This self-conscious reinvention of the circus (one of the troupe’s early shows, in fact, was called “We Reinvent the Circus”) brought the same frenetic energy to the medium that Hong Kong directors brought to the action film. It’s turned out to be potently popular, growing the Quebecois troupe into a world-spanning tumbler’s empire of more than 1,000 people, with seven touring shows running simultaneously. Oh, sure, the shows are not immune to that peculiar French tendency to interject some loopy philosophy into otherwise unpretentious entertainment. “Alegria,” the performance coming our way, has some kind of bizarre theme involving “ancient monarchies evolving into contemporary democracies.” How a stiltwalker will school us on political science isn’t entirely clear, but that won’t take away from the synchronized somersaults and high-speed choreography, which were breathtaking to behold when we caught Soleil’s “Dralion” a few years back. “Alegria” includes an athletic mix of Mongolian contortionists, a flaming-knife juggler, and vaulting trampolinists who combine the best of gymnastics and modern dance. Eat your heart out, P.T. Barnum. 2nd St. S. and 10th Ave. S., (800) 450-1480, $45-$65,

Okay, we’re playing a trick here. Guster actually plays warm-up to John Mayer, the singer/songwriter responsible for “No Such Thing”—an atrocious piece of bland, radio-friendly pablum you probably know as the “I-wanna run-through-the-halls-of-my-high school-and-scream-at-the-top-of-my-lungs” song. We can’t explain this ditty’s popularity, and we won’t hold it against the various local radio stations that insist on keeping it in constant rotation. But dig this: Guster is by far the better offering of this match-up. This acoustic trio from Boston is still touring on the strength of Lost and Gone Forever , a wonderful slice of unpretentious pop released back in 1999. And they’re still drawing comparisons to early R.E.M., though they’re less jangly and precious than their Georgian predecessors. This is a bill filled with nice, modest, all-American white boys playing acoustic guitars and congas, but if you want to hear the music that really matters, you have the luxury of leaving early for ice cream, and never having to find out precisely who is responsible for making John Mayer a rock star.