Month: July 2007

  • How To Get Attention. Paris Hilton, Paris, Paris In Jail, Paris Video, Paris on Couch, Style.

    Disclaimer: This post is only nominally about cars but a car did cause me to write it.

    I have been getting up earlier that usual these days (I wonder how many blogs start with that same inane sentence. A blog is not a diary. A blog is logging of information that starts conversation. Diaries belong on Linked In, Facebook and the site adults must not name.*)

    As I was saying, I am actually waking up and driving my car these days. This could be why I am forgetting to do simple things (like spellchecking) and, um, closing my gas cap after a fill.

    It happened this morning.

    And for once I felt like Paris post-first-video on a couch, naked, at Crobar.

    At first.

    It then rapidly degenerated into ridicule (which is how the little Princess may be feeling these days. Prison time was not good for her brand. Sex sells (to kids especially which bugs me). Prison for a teen idol does not.)

    I admit I enjoyed being accosted by the pleasant looking person in the parking lot with zero body fat (they get up early, apparently). I did not enjoy being told the same thing by the soccer mom in the Volvo who pulled in next to me.

    I liked her car and her fashion sense but was put off by her friendly admonition. She was the unfortunate third person to inform me that my gas cap was open and suddenly I felt like a fool instead of cool.

    She was only trying to help.

    Much like Paris’s handlers are doing right now at 750.00 a hour. Moral of the story: positive attention pays, negative attention costs. And no, this is not an advertisement for my professional services. Although I am at work.

    Early.

    (P.S. This headline is designed to be devoured by search engine spiders. The words “Paris Hilton” still pull unseemly traffic. But I think she has reached a plateau. The thinking man or woman would be searching for Kathryn Heigl.)

    * This is a free “zeigeist read” for you. Free because its so darn known.

  • In the Name of Art

    ART
    White Bear Benefit

    4_raku_pots.JPGThe White Bear Center for the Arts is hosting an Art Watch benefit for the next few days. Catch live art demonstrations from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. today and tomorrow, and Raku firing this evening from 6 to 9 p.m. Witness or participate in the creation of traditional Japanese pottery. Bring the family to watch, or purchase pots to glaze and fire yourself. The event is free, but proceeds from the pots benefit the White Bear Center for the Arts. The live art demonstrations, featuring more than fifty local artists, include painting, watercolor, pottery, metalworking, lampworking, and jewelry. The artwork will then be donated to the Art Auction Gala event ($45) on Saturday evening.

    10 a.m. – 9 p.m., White Bear Center for the Arts, White Bear Lake Armory Building, 2228 Fourth St., White Bear Lake; 651-407-0597; free.

    DANCE by Christy DeSmith
    Momentum: New Dance Works

    200707_momentum_bergeron.jpgA quartet of the state’s most compelling pieces of choreography come together in this sixth annual snapshot of the Minnesota dance community. An early standout this year is Our Perfectly Wonderful Lives, a riff on the allure of superstardom by one of our favorite physical-theater troupes, Off-Leash Area Contemporary Performance Works. Co-director Paul Herwig says the story involves “three characters happily skipping down the road to disaster with absolute willingness and smiles on their faces.” It uses Andy Warhol’s biography as a rough launching point, weaving together dance, theater, and even visual art — including a giant tinfoil recreation of Warhol’s Factory. Tonight’s performance features Maggie Bergeron and Company, and Justin Jones.

    8 p.m., Southern Theater, 1420 Washington Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-340-1725; $18 (Walker and Southern members $14).

    THEATER & PERFORMANCE
    Inventing Van Gogh

    2177568930(2).jpgAlso opening this evening is Swandive Theatre’s production of Inventing Van Gogh, at the Lowry Lab Theater. Local playwright Steven Dietz weaves a haunting tale of art, madness, and the obsession to create. The story centers around the final Van Gogh self-portrait — which has never before been discovered. Follow protagonist Patrick Stone as he attempts to forge this masterpiece while wrestling with his own demons over the death of his friend and mentor.

    8 p.m., Lowry Lab Theater, Lowry Building across from the St. Paul Hotel, St. Paul; 651-646-6670; $15 (students/seniors/fringe buttons $12).

    Of course, if you’re looking for something a little more real, then head for the Teen Poetry Slam at the Walker. Quest for the Voice brings together young people from all walks of life in a night featuring the Minnesota Slam Team, a group of the best teenage poets from around the state. 7 p.m., McGuire Theater, Walker Art Center; free.

    BOOKS & AUTHORS
    Publishing and Bookselling in an Endangered Language

    erdrichport.jpgLouise Erdrich — author of eleven novels, several works of nonfiction, and children’s books — shares a unique perspective on the world of authorship, reading, and publishing this evening. Believe me, this woman has much to offer. She is the proprietor of BirchBark Books, an independent book store in Minneapolis, and BirchBark Books Press, which publishes Ojibwe works.

    8-9:30 p.m., Room Memorial Hall, McNamara Alumni Center, Minneapolis.

    MUSIC by Britt Robson
    Alison Krauss and Union Station

    Allison copy.jpgEver since Bill Monroe and the Stanley Brothers essentially invented it, bluegrass has been the soul music of white people, and the outfit known to fans as AKUS is a worthy heir to that tradition. Exquisite soulfulness is pervasive in the God-fearing religion they wear on their sleeves and keep in their hearts; it’s also omnipresent in the sublime, string-driven braid of fiddle-dobro-guitar that girds Krauss’s angelic voice on the group’s hoedowns, hymns, and hair-tingling ballads. Purists sniff that they’re too slick and commercial, especially since the Coen brothers’ O Brother, Where Art Thou? movie soundtrack made them a dorm-and-apartment — if not exactly household — name. But listen to Krauss, on fiddle, and dobro maestro Jerry Douglas trade licks on “Unionhouse Branch” and then show me bowers and pluckers in any Appalachian holler who are more pure.

    8 p.m., Northrop Auditorium; 84 Church St. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-624-2345; $58, $52, $47.

  • Moved to tears

    Lacrima.jpg

    You might think that a pagan Jew with a taste for dry, fruity, lusty red wines couldn’t fully appreciate a luminous white called Lacrima Christi, or “Tears of Christ.”

    You would be wrong.

    I’m actually a big believer in Jesus Christ. I think there’s little doubt he existed: a fine man, a prophet, and a pious Jew — observing Pesach as he did on what has come to be known as the Last Supper — who was crucified, as many innocents were back then, by a cruel and raucous crowd. It’s only when you come to the bit about his being any more a miracle of God’s invention than you or me or Neil Young (to whom I’ve long accredited divine status) that I begin to question. Up until that point, I’m totally on board.

    What’s more, when one of my kids was going through a medical crisis recently, I listened relentlessy to DMX’s Christian ode “Lord, Give Me a Sign“. And I have to admit, I mist up every time I read Footsteps or Footprints or whatever it is that hangs on every Protestant octogenarian’s bathroom wall. You know, it’s the story about the man who complains to God that there was only one set of footprints in the sand when he was going through periods of strife, implying that the Lord had abandoned him. And God answers, “But you weren’t alone. Those are the times I carried you.” Doesn’t matter what you believe, that’s good stuff.

    Nearly as compelling, narratively-speaking, is the story about LaCrima Christi, which goes like this: Jesus wept when the archangel Lucifer fell from heaven to hell, and his tears fell on the land at the base of Mt. Vesuvius, inspiring blessed grape vines to grow there. Varietals including Aglianico, Sciascinoso, Falanghina, Piedirosso, and Caprettone are used in varying blends to produce this celestial wine.

    Several vintners have a version of Christ’s Tears, alternately called “Lacrima” and “Lacryma;” and there is both a white (Bianco) and red (Rosso). The one I tried was the De Angelis Bianco Lacrima Christi del Vesuvio 2005, a dry, full wine that tastes like rain — mineral-rich and brilliant — with hints of grass and exotic, unnameable fruits and a surprisingly buttery finish. (13% alcohol)

    It is a complex and important question: whether a man like Christ sits in heaven looking down and weeps to see the sadness in our world. But if he does — and I’m hoping that in some plane of our existence this is the case — I believe the artisans of Campania have succeeded in approximating the flavor and tenor of his tears. This is a wine to be drunk reverently, even if you are uncertain, undefined, or lost.

    Maybe even especially so.

  • Par to Strib Editorial Page: Less National. More Local.

    The gist of a recent meeting Star Tribune publisher Par Ridder had with what is left of his editorial page was essentially this, (not a direct quote), “Readers get enough opinion about national issues in other places, they don’t need it from us.”

    Said one Op-Eddie, “His message, basically, was to write with more of an eye on the marketplace, and he sees that marketplace as being less interested in national issues, like Iraq, Scooter Libby, the U.S. attorneys story, than local issues. Essentially its another step in the transition from treating readers like citizens to treating them like customers.”

    Another emphasized that Ridder wasn’t issuing a dictum, nor was there any sense that punitive action would be taken if the staff continued offering opinions on Presidential commutations, (which they did the next day), the success of the surge, the role of Dick Cheney or whatever. The pitch was rather another facet of Ridder’s “Business Literacy” shtick, which, as he has explained to staffs at both the Pioneer Press and the Star Tribune, requires gathering the types of stories and reporting them in ways most appealing to customers, which means of course both readers and advertisers.

    To anyone outside of journalism this sounds profoundly obvious. If you’re selling cars, lay on the chrome! Hype the MP3 gizmos! Give the people what they want, stupid! But customizing news to fit the tastes of the target market has not been the traditional role of big daily newspapers. Yeah, there’s all that sports coverage and funny pages and weather forecasts and TV review stuff. But the essential news end of the paper — of which the Op-Ed pages are an important facet — are supposed to be about telling people (citizens) what they need to know, whether it pleases them or not.

    The most obvious example of playing to your customers and giving them exactly what they want to consume is of course Fox News, where every viewer truly is a customer. None of the Strib Op-Ed team with whom I communicated regarded Ridder’s “suggestion” as having any particular ideological tilt. Rather, it was strictly business. But that still isn’t much different than orchestrating a bread and circuses cable channel.

    One of the two occasions I had the good fortune to listen to Mr. Ridder up close — prior to his court appearances, I mean — was a “Business Literacy”-Lite gathering he held for the staff of the Pioneer Press A&E section back in 2004. At one point he explained how he believed it was a good idea to steer the Pioneer Press Op-Ed page into “a conservative alternative to the Star Tribune”. This, as I understood it, made good business sense (to him) as the Pioneer Press trimmed staff and budgets and re-directed its meager resources toward more conservative suburban readers.

    I was reminded of this strategy when I learned that as part of pulling away from editorializing on national issues, Par was explicit, I’m told, in seeing no good reason for the Star Tribune to continue making presidential endorsements. (For the record, Par’s “conservative alternate” editorial board at the Pioneer Press famously endorsed … George W. Bush for reelection later in 2004.) And why is is it so damned hard to find that classic on the web today?

    Pulling back on local opinions on national issues would have, I can argue, the effect, de facto, of relieving public pressure on the Bush administration which at this moment in its term is under near constant siege as a result of an unprecedented set of blunders and scandals.

    I’m sure the White House would be pleased to learn that the largest media voice in the Upper Midwest was taking itself out of the Scooter/Dick/Alberto/Iraq/Attorneys/Halliburton/Climate Change/Katrina/Rummy game and devoting itself instead to issues of more local interest like, nickel a gallon gas taxes, light rail, and “cat-beheadings”, as one Stribber suggested.

    The dilemma, as actual journalists see it, (in contrast to Par Ridder, newspaper manager extraordinaire), is that reducing the number of editorials on national issues of very high interest — Iraq, Libby, etc. — would just as likely have the effect of giving avid newspaper readers (citizens) another reason to ignore the local paper in favor of the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal or — for you righties, the always satisfying NewsMax.

  • Broken English

    by Eeva-Liisa Waaraniemi

    nina_couch1.jpg

    Do you ever finish watching a movie and wish you could see the beginning again because now you “know” the characters and so you think if you could see them again, it would be more meaningful somehow? Broken English is one of those movies. It starts with close-ups of Nora (Parker Posey), an unhappy young woman, anxiously yet unenthusiastically dressing up for a friend’s wedding anniversary party. By the end, you’re rooting for this woman whose discontent and frailties have become familiar. According to “real” reviewers (which I am not [editor remarks about the joyous dangers of self-deprecation]), and comments from a layman or two around me, the film is based on a very cliché premise: someone unlucky in love gives up on ever finding it, and then… something unexpected happens. This is why, generally lacking cynical judgment, I approached the movie with lukewarm expectations. But I walked out of the theater quite pleased, concurring with my friend that we’d seen a pretty good movie — and I’d say low expectations doesn’t completely account for that appreciation. The movie is actually quite full of clichés, but you know what? Most of the time, it works. Posey portrays Nora perfectly. Julien, the French love interest, comes off goofy and annoying at first, but by the end of the movie has women melting in their seats for what seems a smolderingly perfect male specimen. By the way, all the French (from Julien to strangers on the street) are extremely well-adjusted, often sharing life lessons with the messed-up, confused Americans — another cliché, yet not ad nauseum.

  • More Bad News From Your Doctor

    I know you’ll find this incredible, but it seems that the last several presidents have tried to keep their Surgeons General quiet about politically sensitive scientific and medical issues.

    From Reagan trying to silence Koop about AIDS to Clinton being sensitive about the news that needle exchange programs were actually working to limit disease, presidents have been reluctant to give the people the facts and let politics fall where they may.

    Of course, it’s no big surprise that the main offender is the current occupant of the White House.

    Aside from trying to muzzle former SG Richard Carmona about tobacco and stem cell research, the Bushies also faulted him for attending–get this–the Special Olympics.

    Why? Because the Special Olympics have been supported for a long time by a “certain” family. And you know that, no matter how wonderful the cause, if the Kennedy family supports it, it must be wrong.

  • Automobile as Olive Branch

    (pics to go here: when I fix them.)
    Automachina, Museo, che piu bellezza?

    A wise man pointed something out to me the other day. People talk about cars, particularly when they are their own.

    Much like we cannot choose our children (if we choose to have them) sometimes certain cars choose us. I truly feel the Maserati is still calling me and yet it will not be mine. Someone else’s name is on this car and he believe he goes by the name of Myron Kunin.

    Mr. Kunin, you see, can understand this car. He owns one of the more significant private collections of modern art in the county. In this capacity Mr. Kunin is the company of another Minneapolis area mogul Ralph Burnett. Mr Burnett also owns an a substantial and signifcant collection of modern art (particularly Damien Hirst) on display at Chambers Hotel (still a secret somewhat, why?).

    Now, Mr. K and Mr. B may not share the same opinons on anything. Because they are both avid modern art collectors, they have likely competed fiercely with the likes of Dolly Fitterman here locally over a certain piece. Who knows?

    They both understand art however, and that is what the Maserati is. It moves the soul as well as the person. It was mine for a day and I could not stop talking about it. I even talked to people who seemed different than me. Like the pint-sized Edina mom with her blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail lost in a living room called “Escalade.”

    That is why if Myron pulled into Ralph’s hotel in the blue Maserati both would be speechless. The car is undeinably gorgeous. It exists somewhere beyond the petty squabbles of busines, politics and art. And, incidentially, it looks fabulous in front of a museum (as you soon see when I upload the pictures.)

    This is the kind of car that can create peace between moguls.

    So buy it, Mr. Kunin.

    Or Dolly gets the car.

  • Dance, Laugh, Cry, and You're Good to Go

    MUSIC
    Afternoon Pace-Setting

    Axis.jpgWhatever you choose to do this evening, you should try to make it over to the Northrop lawn again at noon today for their outdoor concert. Axis Mundi’s contemporary blend of world-beat acoustic guitar, percussion, violin, bass, and drums is sure to set just the right pace to keep you going the rest of the day and into the night.

    Noon – 1 p.m., Northrop Plaza, 84 Church St. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-624-2345; free.

    Now begin the evening’s options. Still haven’t gotten your fill of music? If you didn’t go see Roomful of Blues last night, you have another chance this evening. Head for the Dakota, and have yourself a nice Red Angus Tenderloin while you’re there.

    Otherwise, choose between hip hop and folk. (Try the more uncharacteristic one, perhaps.)

    Soul-Stirring Sonics

    slum-village-PICS.jpgSlum Village is back in town this evening with an all-star cast of veteran performers. Step out for a host of performances by Truthmaze, Buss One, Slug (of Atmosphere), I Self Devine, Muja Messiah, Mazta I, Maria Isa, and Slim (of Guardians of Balance), among others. The evening will kick off with a tribute to the recently departed Jay Dee, followed by a B-Boy exhibition, along with opening performances.

    4:30 p.m., Trocadero’s Nightclub, 107 3rd Ave. N., Minneapolis; 612-465-0440.

    What I can’t figure out are the rumors that human rights attorney Jim Cohen will will announce his Senate candidacy at Trocadero’s at 6 p.m. Certainly he’s not doing this between Slum Village sets.

    Flat Cap Folk

    Coza.jpgI’ll refrain form lauding Charlie Parr once again. Suffice it to say, he’s playing at the 331 Club tonight and, as usual, shouldn’t be missed. Parr’s performance this evening will even be followed up by another local jewel, singer-songwriter Chris Koza. You could be in store for a very folky evening. Grab your flat cap and get your quirk on.

    7 p.m., 331 Club, 331 Northeast 13th Ave. (corner of 13th & University), Minneapolis; 612-331-1746.

    COMEDY
    Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack

    marymack copy.jpgA blissful evening is only a laugh away. Spend the evening with the winner of the 2005 California Funniest Female contest: Mary Mack. With a mandolin in hand, and a unique background ranging from schoolteacher to polka band leader, Mary will fill your evening with her own particular brand of musical folk comedy.

    8 p.m., Acme Comedy Club, 708 N. First St., Minneapolis; 612-338-6393; $15, with dinner $27.

    FILM
    Surreal Slapstick Satire

    pompoko1.jpgJapanese animated film always seems to pack it all in: comedy, tragedy, social commentary, satire, you name it — all dressed up in a seemingly childlike tale of animals and otherworldly beings. Pom Poko, screening tonight as part of the Summer Asian Film Series, is no exception. Isao Takahata’s film tells the story of a group of animals attempting to hold back the tide of human progress, and an indigenous population taken from their own land. Shape shifting badgers are the heroes in this story, as they strive to save their land.

    7 p.m., Room 155, Nicholson Hall, 216 Pillsbury Dr. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-626-5054; free.

  • Diner beware

    For those who aren’t into speed-clogging their arteries, I want to make it clear that poutine is, literally, a dish that takes French fries, tops them with cheese curds, and finishes them off with a ladle full of gravy. I swear, I am not making this up. Please see my colleague Jeremy Iggers’ entry on Harry’s Food & Cocktails below. And note that Steven Brown is the chef who once gave me a tour of the kitchen at Levain and insisted I take a sprig of just-picked microgreen and savor it, so I would know how good food is supposed to taste.

  • Flagrant, Reckless Clear Channel Speculation

    The day after Clear Channel whacked President and 20-plus year top dog, Mick Anselmo, most of the inside-industry talk around town turned to the crude and rude way they did it … and then quickly segued into what this shake-out means for the seven Clear Channel stations immediately and the Twin Cities radio market in the near term future.

    First, the rude part. How pissed off does Clear Channel have to be to drop a guy into a city on a Monday morning and fire a long-term, heretofore successful/reliable/loyal manager … by phone? Anselmo has been quoted elsewhere saying he was taken by surprise. Supposedly he was fishing up north. Well, maybe. Anyone who knows Anselmo knows he’s canny in the extreme and not at all above concocting a self-serving web for a predator to tangle in. So, knowing the hammer was coming down Anselmo may have just decided to stay out on his boat and make Clear Channel corporate look like clods — never a difficult thing to do — by leaving them no option other than to can him long-distance, without proper opportunity for him to say farewell to his troops and bobos.

    At any rate, his peers around the market (off-record) regard the treatment he got as extraordinarily tacky. “I don’t care if he didn’t hit his numbers or whatever the reason. That is no way to treat someone who has given you that many years of service,” said one rival.

    None of them, interestingly enough, think Anselmo will be out of work for long. The guy is very well connected to the national country music scene, knows Minnesota sports broadcast rights negotiations inside and out and, knowing what he knows about how Clear Channel can and will react to competition, he would be invaluable to any local radio group looking to exploit Clear Channel’s latest round of cost-cutting.

    The most logical landing pad for Anselmo to land — after his non-compete expires, (and unlike Par Ridder he won’t be calling a rich daddy for advice on how to get out of one) — is the local CBS group — WCCO-AM, WLTE-FM and “Jack” FM. The Good Neighbor is long overdue for an infusion of direction and energy and, as a couple Clear Channel rivals pointed out, with all of Anselmo’s country music connections, it’d be a no-brainer for him to “blow-up” “Jack”, (radio jargon for “change formats”) and go head to head with one of Clear Channel’s premier cash machines, K102. He might even try slipping K102’s programming architect, Gregg Swedberg, out a side door when no one was looking.

    Meanwhile, Anselmo leaves behind at least two sad sack stations out of the seven he ran. First is KTLK, the hard-right talk station, (where I worked briefly, until they realized they had a total whack-job, blithering lefty on their hands and tossed me out the door), and KOOL 108, the so-called “oldies” station.

    As I’ve collected the thinking of best available minds over the last 24 hours, the emerging consensus is that KOOL 108’s problems are still in the “tweakable” range. Fuss with the damned playlist until you find the right number of aging Luddites who don’t own an iPod and think 25 minutes of commercials every hour is normal, fine and unavoidable.

    KTLK is a whole different beast, and some think, key to Anselmo’s firing. While the idea of FM talk came out of Clear Channel corporate, (the idea’s parent is long gone and FM talk has few supporters inside Clear Channel corporate anymore), it was Anselmo who assembled the talent For KTLK, (or in my case, “lack thereof”), most specifically a very, VERY big annual pay check for Jason Lewis, which by any standard other than Anselmo’s and Lewis’s has not paid off in either ratings or revenue. The station continues to flounder despite, as I’ve said before, the aggregation of the biggest names in wing nut talk — Limbaugh, Hannity, etc. — and an unprecedented 20-month billboard campaign. No one interested in talk could NOT have known where to find Rush and the rest of the echo chamber. KTLK’s struggles are related to something other than “a start-up station”, as Anselmo’s team has tried to explain it.

    Most likely Clear Channel will hang with right-wing talk, at least through the ’08 election cycle. They will bet that the few remaining hardcore Bush supporters will continue to linger — against all reality and logic — and KTLK can maybe — possibly — draw in a fraction of the old mid-’90s talk crowd. It is a rebound that becomes far more likely if Hillary Clinton gets the Democratic nomination. (A Hillary-Obama ticket would be every right-wing radio programmer’s dream come true. Then it’d be them against HER and Barack HUSSEIN … who just happens to also be black, with a heavy dose of Bubba redux thrown in for a kicker. An angry white guy trifecta! Perfect!)

    Beyond the two problem stations, there is plenty of curiosity over what Anselmo’s replacement, Mike Crusham, a former sales manager will think of what he sees here in Minnesota. For the last two years Crusham has been barnstorming the country “cleaning up” Clear Channel properties. (That usually means “cutting costs to create profit”). If he is, as one Clear Channel rival put it, “A hit man with no real experience or aptitude for talk”, how long will he listen to KFAN and before he says, “WTF?”

    From noon until 7 your average sports yob listening to KFAN can often go days without hearing a single extended rant about the opening of Vikings’ training camp, Matt Garza’s acne or A-Rod’s wife’s t-shirts. A talk generalist and corporate journeyman like Crusham may meddle with something that isn’t broken just because he — like the Clear Channel consultants with whom I’ve spoken — preach the Great Template sermon that the Twin Cities are “just like every other market, no difference”.

    (Oddly, none of them ever had an explanation for why we here in Houston-North have a public radio news station with an audience three times the size of their megawattage know-nothing talkers. But then no Clear Channel consultant ever struck me as caring enough to look into why that is so.)

    Point being. This Anselmo kacking will have blowback. Mark my words.