The Rake Magazine

Month: May 2008

  • You Belong — and So Does Mom

    THEATER & PERFORMANCE
    Baby Got Curves

    Certainly the theme of body image is nothing new. In fact, we’ve come to expect it from plays (or any art, for that matter) about women. Why don’t I look like the models in the magazines? Why can’t I be thinner? Why can’t my breasts be larger, rounder, firmer? Why can’t my waist be smaller, flatter, firmer? Why can’t my hair be blonder, straighter, longer? Clearly, we have issues being happy with who we are. Real Women Have Curves, written by Josefina Lopez, follows a young, first-generation Mexican-American woman as she struggles with her body image and tries to find balance between her mainstream ambitions and her more traditional cultural heritage and upbringing. The critically acclaimed play (which inspired the award-winning HBO film with America Ferrera) offers a microcosm of the Latina immigrant experience and celebrates real women’s bodies, the power of women, and the incredible bond that happens when women work together. This weekend, Teatro del Pueblo kicks off their all-female production, which includes a brand new interactive fashion show to promote greater engagement with the play’s themes of body image and how this affects women, both Latino and non-Latino, in our society today.

    Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m., Sunday at 2 p.m. and 7 p.m., The Paul and Sheila Wellstone Community Center, Old Neighborhood House, 179 Robie St. E., St. Paul; 651-224-8806; $18 (students/seniors/frnge $15)

    ART
    Why You Belong

    On the other side of the river, at the Chambers, Beijing and Minnesota artists come together to address a similar theme — belonging. Curator and Chambers Art Director Jennifer Phelps — with assistance from Cheryl Wilgren Clyne, University of Minnesota MFA student — has chosen 28 photographs (from over 400 image submissions) for Why You Belong, an exhibit of photographs from the Beijing Film Academy and the University of Minnesota. Artists include Coo Chang, Dude Guo, Luo Fei Hong, Zhang Jia Qing, Song Jing, Li Ning and Zhu Yu, WEN Min, Shi Pengfei, Chen Ping Ping, Wang Yanshu, Su Zhi Gang, Zhou Tao, Rea Xiao, Zhan Xiao Dan, Tang Xuan, Liu Xiaolong, Gao Xinwei, Sonja Peterson, Tang Meng, James Henkel, Juanita Berrio, Peter Haakon Thompson, Andrew Schroeder, Jan Estep, Gary Hallman, Justin Newhall, Cheryl Wilgren Clyne, Chris Baker, and Andrew Schroeder.

    Opening Reception on Friday from 6 to 9 p.m., Burnet Art Gallery, Chambers, 901 Hennepin Ave., Minneapolis; 612-767-6900.

    MUSIC
    Talib Kweli

    If someone can tell you why he belongs, though, it’s probably Talib Kweli. Talib Kweli — seeker of truth (that’s what his name means). The man is probably one of the best-known rappers in alternative hip hip. Kweli first gained recognition through Black Star, a collaboration with fellow MC Mos Def. While his lyrics contain plenty of street and ghetto in them, like Tupac, Kweli comes from a highly-educated arts background. This, too, is evident in his lyrics, which — again, like Tupac’s — are far more intelligent, strong, and proud than much of the recent watered down dollars-and-ass rap. "Freedom’s a road that’s seldom traveled, watch hell unravel / Right before the eyes of the soldier who fell in battle / The single mother who raised her daughter to bear the sacred water / And not take the hand of every man who make a offer / To black kids wishin they white kids, when they close they eyelids / Like, ‘I bet they neighborhood ain’t like this’ / White kids wishin they black kids, and wanna talk like rappers / It’s all backwards it’s identity crisis." Kweli is in town this weekend to promote his latest album, Ear Drum, which features some hot collaborators (Kanye West, Roy Ayers, Jean Grae, Peter Rock, KRS-One, and even Justin Timberlake and Norah Jones), accessible beats, and Kweli’s staple of insightful, rhythmically drilling lyrics.

    Friday at 10 p.m. (doors at 7), EPIC Nightclub, 110 N. Fifth St., Minneapolis; 612-332-3742; $30.


    An Epic Mother’s Day

    Sunday is Mother’s Day, of course, and I’m guessing Talib Kweli isn’t quite mom’s thing. But Epic’s Sunday show might be. R&B sensation El DeBarge will be performing with his live band. Mom is sure to remember "Rhythm of the Night," "All This Love," and "Who’s Holding Donna Now." Heck, she might even have a warm place in her heart for "Who’s Johnny?" Surprise her by turning back the hands of time — there’s nothing moms love more — and treating her to a night out on the town, VIP style, like she deserves. Ladies in the VIP sections will each receive a complimentary rose and glass of champagne.

    Sunday at 8:30 p.m. (doors at 7), EPIC Nightclub, 110 N. Fifth St., Minneapolis; 612-332-3742; $30, $45 VIP, $60 VIP Table (Bottle Service).

    FILM & MUSIC
    The Plácido Domingo 40th Anniversary Gala Concert

    Ok. Not all moms march to the beat of El Debarge. It’s true. Perhaps Mom would prefer one of the world’s greatest tenors — and a sexy ole bugger at that. This weekend, Plácido Domingo takes the L.A. Opera into movie theatres for the first time, as Landmark Theatres hosts screenings of The Plácido Domingo 40th Anniversary Gala Concert. The concert celebrates the fortieth anniversary of Domingo’s first professional appearance in Los Angeles and features arias and duets sung by Domingo and the internationally acclaimed soprano Patricia Racette. Music Director James Conlon conducts the L.A. Opera Orchestra for a perfect Mother’s Day concert.

    Sunday at 2 p.m., Landmark’s Lagoon Cinema, 1320 Lagoon Ave., Minneapolis.

    FILM
    Annual MCTC Media Generation Cinema Festival

    Of course, there are other great film offerings earlier in the weekend. On friday night, Cinema Division Students at MCTC present their Annual Media Generat
    ion Cinema Festival — like the Oscars, but kinkier. Enjoy a full range of visuals and sounds, popcorn and other yummy treats, two raffles (with a chance to win a $100 gift certificate from Best Buy and a brand new Blue-Ray/HD combo DVD player), awards, and great entertainment — even with adult material.

    Friday from 6-9 p.m., Whitney Fine Arts Theater, Minneapolis Community and Technical College, 1501 Hennepin Ave., Minneapolis; free.

    Son of Rambow

    And this weekend is also the opening of Son of Rambow. Director Garth Jennings’s (Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy)
    semi-autobiographical story is sweet and funny with a heartwarming
    narrative about the forming of a true friendship. Jennings made his own
    versions of First Blood as a child and coupled those
    experiences with some stories from producer Nick Goldsmith’s childhood
    to assemble the initial script. Schoolmates
    Will Proudfoot (Bill Milner) and Lee Carter (Will Poulter) are the
    unlikeliest of pairs. They meet by pure chance when Lee gets
    expelled from his classroom for disobedience and encounters Will, who
    is sitting in the hallway because his family’s beliefs, as members of
    The Brethren evangelical christian movement, preclude him from watching
    television or even films shown at school. Lee proceeds to get Will in
    trouble, as well, and blackmails him into paying him a fee for taking
    the blame. Thus, their dysfunctional friendship begins. Lee then guilts Will into coming over to his house, where he is exposed to his first movie … a pirated copy of First Blood that
    Lee filmed at a local movie theater for his brother’s bootlegging
    business. Hilarity ensues when Will gets swept up in the action and
    agrees to star in Lee’s makeshift re-make of the film. —Christopher Kelleher (read his full review)

    Starts Friday at the Lagoon Theater.

    EXPO
    Elder Care Expo

    This isn’t quite a Mother’s Day outing — although it can certainly improve your mother’s well-being — but Minnesota’s first-ever Elder Care Expo is also being held this weekend. Are you responsible for some aspect of finances of healthcare for a family member over 65? Have you experiences stress and frustrations navigating through today’s elder care system? The Elder Care Expo brings together government agencies, nonprofits, private organizations to help provides the answers and support that you so desperately need.

    Friday and Saturday from 9 a.m. – 7 p.m., Education Building, Minnesota State Fairgrounds, 1265 Snelling Ave. N., St. Paul; 651.204.0266; $8.

    SHOPPING
    Luna Vinca Mother’s Day Sale

    And don’t let Mother’s Day hit you with nothing in hand. I mean, come on, folks: this woman birthed you (or at least someone, right?)! Not quite sure how to reward her for that? Perhaps the folks of Luna Vinca can help. Jennifer Guion, owner of Luna Vinca and an award-winning floral designer, will be cooking up her fabulous flower arrangements. And Alissa Karges, the creator of FS Jewelry, will work with you to find the perfect piece of jewelry for mom. What mom doesn’t like flowers and jewelry? (Hmm… come to think of it, mine prefers books and music, but… she weird.)

    Saturday from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m., Luna Vinca, 3344 Hennepin Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612.823.6178.

  • Son of Rambow

    The name Son of Rambow
    conjures images of some hot young actor like Shia LaBeouf trekking
    through the mountains of Afghanistan, dodging Taliban attacks while
    searching for a captured Sylvester Stallone. Rest assured, this is not
    what you will get from this refreshingly creative twist on the coming-of-age genre.

    Director Garth Jennings’s (Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy)
    semi-autobiographical story is sweet and funny with a heartwarming
    narrative about the forming of a true friendship. Jennings made his own
    versions of First Blood as a child and coupled those
    experiences with some stories from producer Nick Goldsmith’s childhood
    to assemble the initial script.

    Schoolmates
    Will Proudfoot (Bill Milner) and Lee Carter (Will Poulter) are the
    unlikeliest of pairs. They meet by pure chance when Lee gets
    expelled from his classroom for disobedience and encounters Will, who
    is sitting in the hallway because his family’s beliefs, as members of
    The Brethren evangelical christian movement, preclude him from watching
    television or even films shown at school. Lee proceeds to get Will in
    trouble, as well, and blackmails him into paying him a fee for taking
    the blame. Thus, their dysfunctional friendship begins.

    Lee then guilts Will into coming over to his house, where he is exposed to his first movie … a pirated copy of First Blood that
    Lee filmed at a local movie theater for his brother’s bootlegging
    business. Hilarity ensues when Will gets swept up in the action and
    agrees to star in Lee’s makeshift re-make of the film.

    The filming of the movie begins with the two friends having a great time acting out scenes from First Blood
    with a reckless abandon that only two young and fearless boys could
    muster, making for some fun and amusing scenes. But things start to get
    complicated as fellow students begin to hear about the film and the
    making of the movie interferes with the boys’ commitments to their
    families, and vice versa.

    Lee
    is constantly on edge due to an undying loyalty to his self-centered
    and manipulative brother who, despite all his flaws, is closer to him
    than his absent parents. Will’s family, on the other hand, wants to spend all their time together in prayerful solitude, but the
    lure of starring in a movies becomes too tempting. His mother is being
    courted by one of the elders of the group, who influences her to take a
    firmer grip on Will’s activities.

    The
    plot gets even more complicated as some of the boys’ fellow students
    hear about the movie and want to participate … notably the popular
    new French exchange student Didier. As their friends begin to get more
    and more involved, mostly at Will’s request, and familial obligations
    present themselves, there becomes a rift in the two boys’ relationship.
    While filming the final scene, an automobile accident threatens to end
    the film and the boys’ relationship altogether.

    The mixture of slapstick humor and heartwarming drama make Son of Rambow a unique fresh treat for moviegoers. The
    rich cast of characters, including the members of The Brethren, Didier
    and his entourage and Lee’s self-centered older brother are a welcome
    homage to some of the great coming of age comedies of the 1980’s like Better Off Dead and Weird Science. But there is a genuineness to Son of Rambow that leaves you laughing, but warm and fuzzy, at the same time … something you wouldn’t have gotten from a Son of Rambo movie.

    Starts Friday at the Lagoon Theater.

  • GOP BDSM

    As the debate at the capitol starts to sound eerily Tyra-inspired, it’s
    important to note that, according to The Defenestrator’s highly-knowledgeable sources, had House and Senate
    leadership handled Pawlenty’s veto of the Central Corridor differently, many of the problems the DFL caucus has with Tim
    Pawlenty’s demands likely would have been non-issues. As
    things stand, (or sit, bound and gagged to a chair, really) Sen. Steve "Technicolor
    Dreamcoat    " Murphy and Rep. Margaret Kelliher are in dire need of Mick
    Jagger’s sage counsel, not to mention a safe word:

    You see, the DFL caucus blew their proverbial wad when the
    veto of the Central Corridor came down. Rather than allowing the public to
    comment on this great disturbance in the Force, the one that felt as if
    millions of public transit users cried out in terror and were suddenly
    silenced, the DFL legislators tipped their hand, letting Gov. Pawlenty know
    just how desperately they
    craved the long sinuous track     running sensuously through Frogtown’s deepest
    and most secret crevices. And while the train is rather important, the fiscal solvency
    of Minnesota’s
    cities would seem to be even more important than joining hands and riding the love train.

    And what could possibly threaten our urban areas enough to
    risk jeopardizing quiet and comfortable public transit to our finest
    ethnic
    eateries?
    Simple – in a bizarre twist, our executive branch wants to play nanny. Not to
    any delicious babies, of course – he prefers free range – but to property
    owners. It’s no secret that our governor has not enjoyed the nigh-daily dirty
    sanchez     he receives from irate constituents and opponents who blame him for
    stratospheric hikes in property taxes. And it’s true that, while he may not
    exert direct control over said taxes, his cuts in local government aid and
    other funding has forced our cities and towns to look for revenue in other
    places…like our homes. Now that he has the DFL caucus bound, gagged, and
    spread-eagled, Timmy has decided that the best way to address the situation is
    to place a cap on those property taxes. Of course, out of the goodness of his
    heart he tied it to the consumer price index to account for inflation – his
    version of the reach-around. Too bad he has freakishly short arms.

    While Gov. Pawlenty’s concern for the taxpaying public is
    like a warm fuzzy blanket made from the fur of 1,000 virgin kittens, the
    consequences to urban areas could be disastrous. Minneapolis
    and St. Paul were forced to drop the quality of
    essential services during the last downturn, shedding police and fire
    department employees, not to mention Minneapolis
    residents’ unrequited desire to borrow books on Sundays. Given that no one
    wants to see Minneapolis
    cops any more surly,
    hamstringing one of the cities’ primary sources of funds seems like a
    profoundly bad idea. The sort of idea that would come from the diseased mind of
    a crack-addled human/badger crossbreed, actually.

    This is not to say the DFL’s magical new formula for
    determining property tax refunds is sent down from the heavens, carried by
    rainbow riding valkyries singing show tunes. Capping property taxes at 2
    percent of income for anyone earning less than $100,000 would make the tax code
    more progressive, but there are far simpler ways to accomplish that goal – like
    perhaps actually making the tax code progressive. Wacky idea, I know, but it
    just might work.

    In any case, the legislative session continues on unabated
    despite the governor’s hand wrapped firmly around the collective genitalia of the
    DFL caucus, squeezing more tightly every day. The only question remaining is
    just how much will the legislature sacrifice to preserve its precious precious light
    rail. And whether Rep. Kelliher and Gov. Pawlenty agreed on a safe word. The
    variable that still remains to be determined, of course, is what DFL legislature has to give up in exchange for freedom.
    Delicious. Tantalizing.
    Freedom.    .

  • Enter the World of Brian Andreas and the Story People

    Once upon a time there was a young girl who wandered in search of a very specific story. She looked in bookstores and couldn’t find it. She walked through library stacks but never found it. Finally, she went to the storyteller himself. He was sitting in a park, waiting for her. He seemed eager to help. But when she asked, he said he had never heard such a story.

    "But you wrote it!" said the girl. "It had a grandfather and a granddaughter who were fishing on a lake in a blue boat."

    "That doesn’t sound like any of the stories I’ve ever written," the storyteller said.

    So the storyteller ruffled through a stack of his hundreds of stories. As he flipped through, pictures of pink and orange and blue and red people streamed by. Some looked like monsters. Others grimaced like mad clowns. But they all — every one of them — looked like they were having a fine time indeed.

    "Stop! That’s it!" the girl yelled. "That’s the one."

    It was her story all right. But there was no grandfather, no granddaughter. There was no lake, no fishing, and no blue boat. The storyteller and the girl laughed at the strangeness of it — but really, these things aren’t all that uncommon, are they?

    At least that’s how the storyteller tells it. Brian Andreas remembers this scene occurring one summer at an arts festival in Baltimore over a decade ago, but many people who visit the workshop of the storyteller and artist in Decorah, Iowa have this same kind of encounter. They are fans looking for a specific story that has touched them. But they get their facts wrong. The details are all off. What they have done is imprint their own lives on his stories.

    In 1993, Andreas created a collaborative art company in Decorah, Iowa to produce a line of contemporary craft products based on these highly adaptable stories. He called it the Story People. The heart of his business remains the stories themselves, which have been published in six slim, paperback volumes, but the Story People produces a multi-million-dollar line of art products that includes furniture, sculpture, and prints populated by strange and otherworldly creatures that are rearing their heads at almost two dozen galleries across Minnesota.

    Stories are everywhere. Increasingly, they flood consumer culture in the form of advertisements presented in narrative form. Corporations and organizations are tapping into the power of story to transform lives, or at least to embed themselves in your mind. And though he knows he has as much to gain as anyone else from the entrepreneurial use of story, Brian Andreas finds something wrong with the way corporations harness the elements of story to sell us more stuff.

    "It’s like the sorcerer’s apprentice," Andreas said. "They don’t really know what they are playing with."

    But that is exactly what Andreas has done. He sells these stories in the form of prints, or stamped on sculptures made of recycled barn wood, to a growing base of collectors of American craft art, and to a cult-like following of fans who appreciate his view of life as a string of funny and odd moments. Others gravitate to the illustrations, which seem not a rendering of the stories, but an extension of them.

    "Brian has this way of writing that connects to the soul of people," said Matthew Johnson, an artist and friend of Andreas who has worked in the Story People sculpture studio for 14 years. "His stories are open enough to touch anyone who reads them."

    At its basest, what Brian Andreas does is the same feat of alchemical wordsmithing that card companies have been trying to accomplish for decades. He taps into what ties us to each other in fewer words than it takes to introduce two friends. But the product that emerges from that connection is infinitely less cheesy.

    Technically speaking, what Andreas writes are not stories, at least not in the classical sense. They rarely feature conflicts — unless you consider trying to get an old man off a couch major drama. At roughly 30 words or less, they are too short to be a short story, or even flash fiction or nanofiction. They present anecdotes from Andreas’s life cast in the warm glow of his writing voice, which is wise and conversational, like an old friend passing time on a front porch swing. If they are anything to be pinned down, they are prose poems — slightly irreverent, deceptively wise, and impish at their core.

  • One-Stop Guide to Development Sites in MSP

    Today was the launch of MetroMSP —  a new Web site that offers companies and site selectors instant access to comprehensive and
    crucial marketplace information about available commercial, industrial
    and retail sites in the 11-county Minneapolis Saint Paul metro region.

    The Web site covers the anchor cities of Minneapolis, Saint Paul, and
    Bloomington, as well as Anoka, Carver, Chisago, Dakota,
    Hennepin, Isanti, Ramsey, Scott, Sherburne, Washington, and Wright counties.

    The site catalogues and displays more than
    5,000 industrial, manufacturing, office, and retail properties. The
    database includes essential details about each location, including
    taxes, available utilities, legal descriptions, and photographs.

    Each property links to an interactive map that displays important
    information about the surrounding area, such as highways, airports,
    railways, lakes and rivers, educational institutions, retail centers,
    and parks. In addition, existing businesses are mapped by industry, so
    users can view the local landscape for potential partners, customers
    and competitors.

    Users also can click on links to connect them directly with a selected site’s real estate broker or city/county/chamber contact.

    Besides profiling specific development sites, MetroMSP.org showcases
    the region’s exceptional quality of life, including its high national
    rankings in categories ranging from health care to education to
    cultural amenities.

  • Franco-American Relations, Indeed

    A smattering of bonjours and soft smiles accompanied the light, nervous energy that breezed through the Alliance Française this particular Monday morning. Huge croissants and berries lay untouched on the table as hosts and hostesses pinned tricolored nametags to their jackets and blouses. A few people wandered absently around the meeting room, grazing past the old upright piano against one brick wall, peering at French books aligned on bookshelves against each other, or craning their necks to inspect the ragged charm of the weathered cracks near the ceiling. "We are still waiting for our guest of honor," a tall woman with dark wavy hair whispered. Her nametag revealed her to be Peggy Linrud, the Alliance board president.

    After another ten minutes of waiting, in which nobody dared to venture an inch toward the food, the anticipated guest of honor walked down the cramped hallway and into the room. The small group of people moved smoothly toward his tall frame, a flutter of grays and blacks and browns settling around him like a flock of birds. It seemed quite an understated welcome for the Ambassador of France: the smallness of the room, the lack of ostentatiousness, the presence of a mere two press figures. But perhaps that is what made it so very-well-French?

    From this perspective, the Alliance Française seemed to be the natural stop for Monsieur Vimont. Although it is simply a small space tucked into the Warehouse District next to Theatre de la Jeune Lune, it is perhaps a dominant hub for the French community of Minneapolis. Native and nonnative speakers gather for language classes and cultural events. A few of the Alliance’s French instructors were among those present at the intimate breakfast.

    Monsieur Pierre Vimont has been traveling around the country since President Nicolas Sarkozy appointed him to the Ambassadorship last August. Refusing to stay cloistered in Washington, DC, he has been speaking at university and public functions, generally about Franco-American relations. "I try to get a little bit away from Washington…to get a complete picture of the country," Vimont smiled warmly, craning his neck and leaning inward, barely heard above the buzzing conversation around him. "I travel to visit the country, but also the French community, wherever it is. I meet the people. I also meet with the business community." He states that France’s relationship with the United States is "improving" and that he is working to enhance it—especially the interaction of our economic policies.

    Mayor R.T. Rybak    , who escorted the Ambassador to the Alliance, chimed in more loudly in his agreement. "Minnesota has always had a strong connection to France," he declared. "French explorers were the first ones to come to Minnesota. Culturally, we have Theatre de la Jeune Lune." He gestured in a vaguely southward direction. "I like to think that Washington Avenue could be the Champs d’Elysées of Minneapolis."

    The mayor’s and ambassador’s ensuing conversation, punctuated by the obligatory PR photos, was genial and optimistic, marked by comments about public transportation and sustainable initiatives, including the recent Northwest-Delta merger (NWA currently offers non-stop flights from the Twin Cities to Paris). Vimont nodded and smiled, his unflinching posture only broken by occasionally tapping the table with the tips of his fingernails—whether a nervous gesture or just plain habit, it was difficult to tell. Consul-general Alain Frécon beamed nearby, accepting congratulations for the French Legion of Honor he was about to receive that afternoon (for "exemplary service," Vimont explained). The other attendees gradually broke off, their glow of meeting a national figure a bit dimmed by now. They ventured toward the croissants.

    One of the older women defied the otherwise muted garb of the bustle, smiling broadly through her bright, shimmery blue and fuschia makeup. She turned out to be Marie-Rose Adams, a language teacher at the Alliance. Sweeping two younger instructors to her, one in each arm, she declared, "She is a teacher. She is a teacher… and I am the grandma of them all." As they laughed and squirmed slightly, she wryly announced, "I started the school, if you wanted to know."

    Adams proceeded to educate me about the history of the Alliance, then moved on to French food; with my croissant in hand, I made a faux pas by reaching for the butter and the marmalade. "Oh, non, non, that is not done in Paris," Adams yelped. She explained how much butter there already is in a true croissant. "But you Americans always have to have your butter!" Later on, I truthfully admitted to myself this might have been the most notable thing I learned about Franco-American relations that morning.

    After lunch, I walked into my supervisor’s office at my day occupation, who knew where I had been earlier that day. "Hey, I think I saw your ambassador on the street," he said.

    "You did?" I was confused and mildly impressed. "How do you know what he looks like?"

    My boss shrugged matter-of-factly. "He looked French."

    Ah, Franco-American relations, indeed.

  • The Echo Nest Enables Personalized Music Experience

    This just in:

    The Echo Nest, a music intelligence
    company providing enhanced music search, recommendation and
    interactivity technology to online music companies, launched its second
    hosted application, "Recommend," today.

    Recommend is an application programming interface or "API" that helps
    music services personalize their websites to each visitor’s unique
    music taste.  Any music website — bloggers, social networks, Internet
    radio or retailers — can easily access the Recommend API to offer users
    better music discovery tools.

    …

    The Echo Nest is offering a free version and "Recommend Unlimited" a
    fee-based, more feature-rich version of the API. To celebrate the
    release of Recommend, The Echo Nest is offering free "Unlimited"
    accounts to the first 100 small music websites who register for API
    access at http://the.echonest.com/.

  • Other Signs of Springs

    WINE & DINE
    Take to the Streets

    I don’t like to walk and eat (too messy!), and I hate the
    taste of wooden sticks and skewers. Yet, there’s something about a
    bustling city street dotted with steaming food stands and vendors that
    makes me happy. I’ll take a stroll the crowd, even if I’m not moved to
    stop and nosh. But I’m well aware there are diehard fans of
    hotdogs in waxed cardboard boats, streetside falafel, and chili-roasted
    nuts served in canny little paper cones. If you’re one of Trillin’s minions, you’re in luck. Because not only is today the opening day of MOSAIC
    Marketplace on Nicollet Mall, it’s actually supposed to be
    intermittently sunny outside. From 12 to 5 p.m., Manny’s Tortas, La Loma Tamales, Pham’s Deli, & Holy Land will be cooking up global fare. And
    there will be live entertainment, too. Tomorrow will be a crisp
    64-degree day with a gentle northeastern breeze, plus a troupe of
    Celtic dancers jigging and reeling their way up and down the mall. And — get this — so far as anyone can
    tell, it isn’t going to snow! —Ann Bauer (read full post)

    FILM
    The Hagstone Demon

    Enjoy a free sneak preview of local
    filmmaker Jon Springer’s new film The Hagstone Demon tonight at the Riverview Theater. Described by Springer as a film "about a person who
    discovers his own free will," the locally-produced film stars Mark Borchardt, whose role in the Sundance award-winning
    documentary American Movie earned him cult celebrity status in
    the indie film set. Guests
    are invited to an informal reception in the lobby prior to the screening, for which Borchardt will be present. An
    after party will take place at the new Nick and Eddie Restaurant and
    Bar     (1612 Harmon Place, Mpls 55403.) And it has been confirmed
    that Grant Hart of the legendary post-punk band Hüsker Dü will be
    performing live at the after party.

    6 p.m. reception, 7 p.m. screening, Riverview Theater, 3800 42nd Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-729-7369.

    Read Erik McClanahan’s interview with Jon Springer.

    LECTURE
    A Camera, Two Kids and A Camel

    National Geographic photographer and Minnesota native Annie Griffiths Belt, who has worked on every continent except Antarctica, concludes the 2008 National Geographic Live speaker series at the State Theatre tonight. The fourth speaker in the series, she will be discussing three decades on the road for National Geographic in her lecture, “A Camera, Two Kids and A Camel” — also the title of her latest book, which she will be signing in the lobby immediately after her presentation.

    7:30 p.m., Historic State Theatre, 805 Hennepin Ave., Minneapolis; 612-673-0404; $27.50-$37.50.

     

     

  • Don't Take Bags from Anyone

    Greetings from a former actual subscriber to The Rake.

    I’m
    not sure how I ended up at Ann Bauer’s blog tonight, but I enjoyed several
    pages of it, and only quit reading as it’s long past time I was in bed!

    I’d
    like to challenge her on her attitude about cloth shopping bags,
    though. Although I realize she was going for a humorous take on the
    topic, I was disheartened by it.

    I think I’m
    a bit older than Ann—49 at my last birthday—and was in school
    (Hamline) from ’76-’80, after which I lived in St. Paul for several
    years, working at various restaurants as a baker, cook, and waitress. (I
    finally escaped the business in the late ’80s; I make my living as a
    classical singer.) I started shopping at co-ops in 1980, and those were
    the days when you pretty much brought your own containers for
    everything. I’m not sure they even offered shopping bags in the
    earliest days of Mississippi Market, when it was on Selby, west of
    Snelling!

    Anyhow, as a child of the ’70s, the
    idea of energy conservation always stuck with me, and re-using bags
    (and avoiding excess packaging in general) always seemed like the
    obvious "right" thing to do. I like to generate as little trash as I
    can—not easy in America. Over the years, I’ve accumulated lots of
    canvas bags, and always have one of two in the car. I still bring my
    own containers for bulk stuff, like rice and beans, and spices. I have
    a feeling of failure if I realize I’ve got to use a fresh, new plastic
    bag to bring something home.

    Now, though,
    anyone can see that we’re drowning in those damned plastic bags! I mean
    the extra flimsy ones that you get everywhere… and which are now
    BANNED in increasing number of countries, and US cites here and there.
    As the snow melted at last, right here in our fair metro, didn’t you
    see bags floating about along the freeway? Didn’t you see them in the
    trees? But beyond the Great Plains, haven’t you seen the horrifying
    photos of the gigantic floating plastic HELLS on the oceans? who knows
    where all those bags have come from… But they shall no longer come from ME.

    Since
    January, I’ve had a hobby (added to my previous hobby: avoiding corn
    syrup): I don’t take bags from any retailer. Not Cub, not Macy’s, not
    TJ Maxx. Not only that, I produce my fabulous nylon Acme sacs with a
    flourish, flicking them open to the astonishment of all, and make a
    little speech about my hobby—mentioning that I haven’t used a plastic
    or paper bag in 4 months!

    It’s actually been fun—largely because of these particular bags, which are extremely convenient and light.

    If Ann will tell me where I could do so, I’ll happily send her one in an
    effort to change her mind about taking a bag with her wherever she
    goes. I keep mine on my keyring (or in my purse).

    Next,
    I’ll tell you about my other hobby: never accepting another disposable
    cup or styrofoam to-go container! But that’s for a separate email.

    Best regards, Maria Jette

    p.s. Ann mentioned somewhere that she has children—that should make her
    all the more interested in cutting down on trash in the environment. I don’t have any… but can’t bear the thought of sticking future generations with my plastic bags!

    Maria Jette, MN
    Letter

  • Nabokov's Attempted Murder

    Kill your darlings.

    This is the command given young writers when they’re learning to edit their stories and poems. (It usually comes directly after the first piece of advice for novice authors: Quit now.)

    Kill ‘em dead. The line is attributed variously now to Faulkner, now to Hemingway. Extrapolated, it’s something like, ‘take your best sentences, and get rid of them. Chances are, if you’re impressed with your own writing, you’re being too cute.’ Really it’s just another injunction highlighting the masochistic aspects of this practice. Editing is peeling away dead skin, but there’s some pain involved.

    Vladimir Nabokov compares a first draft to a loogey you’ve coughed into a tissue – it’s this ugly thing that you don’t want to show anyone, but also it came from deep inside you. At the end of his life, it seems the author of Lolita and Pale Fire took the editorial call to arms a step further than most.

    Nabokov died in 1977, leaving behind 138 index cards with a draft of his last novel, The Original of Laura, scribbled on them, and instructions that the cards should be destroyed. (In terms of darling killing, this is something like being an accomplice to murder, I think.) Last week, Dmitri Nabokov – Vladimir’s son – announced he was publishing the manuscript.

    I’m reminded of a scene from Don Quixote, when the beautiful Marcela comes down from the hills and confronts a group of travelers. Anyone who looks upon Marcela, it’s said, will immediately fall in love with her. She’s here to tell them not to look:

    "Heaven made me, as all of you say, so beautiful that you cannot resist my beauty and are compelled to love me…But until now heaven has not ordained that I love, and to think that I shall love of my own accord is to think the impossible…The limits of my desires are these mountains, and if they go beyond here, it is to contemplate the beauty of heaven and the steps whereby the soul travels to its first home."

    And, having said this, and not waiting to hear any response, Marcela turned her back and entered the densest part of a nearby forest, leaving all those present filled with admiration as much for her intelligence as for her beauty. And some…gave indications of wishing to follow her, disregarding the patent discouragement they had heard.

    What always bugged me about this episode was that, if Marcela doesn’t want people to see her, she shouldn’t come out of hiding. I suspect that deep down, like everyone else, she likes to be doted on from time to time.

    I have the same suspicion of Nabokov’s feelings toward his ‘lost’ novel – if he wanted it destroyed, he would have destroyed it. Dmitri, at least, insinuates as much in an interview with The New York Times. "I also recalled," he said, "that when my father was asked, not very long before his death, what three books he considered indispensable, he named them in climactic order, concluding with The Original of Laura – could he have ever seriously contemplated its destruction?"

    The same thing happened about eighty years ago, when Max Brod decided to publish the manuscripts that his good friend, Franz Kafka, had left behind – despite the fact that Kafka wanted his texts destroyed, as well:

    Dearest Max,

    My last request: Everything I leave behind me (in my bookcase, linen-cupboard, and my desk both at home and in the office, or anywhere else where anything may have got to and meets your eye), in the way of diaries, manuscripts, letters (my own and others’), sketches, and so on, to be burned unread; also all writings and sketches which you or others may possess; and ask those others for them in my name. Letters which they do not want to hand over to you, they should t least promise faithfully to burn themselves.

    Yours,
    Franz Kafka

    As Dmitri doubted his father’s intentions, so too did Brod doubt Kafka’s:

    Franz should have appointed another executor if he had been absolutely and finally determined that his instructions should stand.

    I am far from grateful to him for having precipitated me into this difficult conflict of conscience, which he must have foreseen, for he knew with what fanatical veneration I listened to his every word…I never once threw away the smallest scrap of paper that came from him, no, not even a post card.

    Coming to the end of this blog post, I’m finding that I don’t really have a point to make. These are just things that happened. I’m not here to reprimand the authors for attempting -genuinely or not – to destroy their works. Rather I find comfort in the fact that, even on their deathbeds, these writers were still playing head games with those they held dearest. And, of course, I’m thankful to Brod and Dmitri Nabokov for not being the literal-minded readers that might actually have fulfilled their respective authors’ (faux) requests.