Author: rakemag

It’s getting harder and harder to get into the University of Minnesota. Fortunately for choreographer Merce Cunningham, he’s getting his U of M degree–albeit an honorary one–without going through the application process, let alone putting in the miles-long hikes between classes. At eighty-six years old, he’s probably glad about that. This month, Cunningham will be honored in numerous ways for his profound contributions to modern dance. The honorary degree is just the beginning; he’ll also be analyzed in a public lecture (November 1) called “How to Watch a Cunningham Concert,” and an exhibition of his drawings are on display at the Katherine E. Nash Gallery. Finally, his fourteen-member company will perform three landmark works from various points in his career: Suite for Five, with music by John Cage and costumes by Robert Rauschenberg; Native Green, with music by John King; and Split Sides, a 2003 work with music by Sigur Ros and Radiohead. Split Sides is never performed the same way twice; the piece opens with a roll of the dice that determines the sequence of the elements of the dance–the math works out to offer thirty-two possible combinations. 612-624-2345; www.northrop.umn.edu

Screenwriter William Broyles Jr. had his work cut out for him: molding a story from Anthony Swafford’s nearly plotless account of being a Marine sniper in Operation Desert Storm, working with characters that come and go like catnap dreams, and then living with Swafford’s argument that all war films are pro-war ads for young men, because the “magic brutality of the films celebrates the terrible and despicable beauty of their fighting skills. Filmic images of death and carnage are pornography to the military man.” Ouch. With that in mind, the movie’s tagline, “Welcome to the Suck,” takes on new meaning to the idealistic, virile young man.

Yoakam seems like an odd choice for a suburban club that has papered the town with sleek urban ads featuring chic young partiers. But we’re game: Yoakam’s latest recording, Blame the Vain, is pretty kicking. Eighteen albums down the line, and he still refuses to put out generic, compromised Nashville noise. Instead, he calls on the ghosts of Roy Orbison, Johnny Cash, and Buck Owens to remind us how country music should sound. Plus, we found out while perusing his official website that we could actually book him for our next event! Hmm. The Rake’s Holiday Hoedown is just around the corner. 3090 Southlawn Drive, Maplewood; 651-779-6984; www.mythnightclub.com

Romance, love triangles, the older man/younger woman syndrome… didn’t we get enough of all this with Sex and the City? Maybe so, but they’re offered up with some engaging insights (and affectionate jabs at L.A.) in Steve Martin’s adaptation of his 2000 novella. The days grind by for the broke, lonely department store salesgirl Mirabelle (Claire Danes)–until she crosses paths with two archetypal suitors: a suave, womanizing, but ultimately remote millionaire (Martin) and a more age-appropriate but hapless lover boy (Jason Schwartzman). Excruciating romantic dilemma ensues; but count on this one to pan out in not-so-pat ways. 612-925-6006, www.landmarktheatres.com

Sometimes, disaster strikes in just the right way. The phenomenal guitarist Django Reinhardt honed his dazzling gypsy jazz style while recovering from a fire that lost him the use of two of his fingers (and nearly cost him his leg). The two-fingered playing style he developed actually improved on his already astonishingly speedy and complex music. Likewise, French composer and jazz guitarist Dorado Schmitt (pictured) used his recovery period from a car accident and subsequent eleven-day coma to learn to play the violin. His virtuoso performances with the festival band keep Django jazz cooking for audiences who can’t get enough of this electrifying genre. 1010 Nicollet Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-332-1010; www.dakotacooks.com

One of our favorite newer bands hooks up with a few of its esteemed forebears from the local scene, for what is perhaps the most anticipated of the Guest Session Sunday concerts. Those puckish young men in their blue tracksuits, who’ve been criminally forced to drop the “Olympic” and play simply as the Hopefuls, will be joined by both drummer Peter Anderson from the experimental popsters Polara and by the Flops, that sly “boy band” composed of John Munson and Matt Wilson (pictured here). And since Dan Wilson is also showing up, this could count as a de facto Semisonic/Trip Shakespeare reunion. Finally, with Rake columnist (and Current DJ) Mary Lucia hosting, this has all the makings for a witty and delightful evening. Fitzgerald Theater, 10 E. Exchange St., St. Paul; 651-290-1221; www.fitzgeraldtheater.org

A soaring and reflective composition by the American composer Stephen Paulus (who has a role in our profile of Libby Larsen, his friend and colleague), the world premiere of this oratorio features mezzo-soprano Christina Baldwin, soprano Norah Long, and the Basilica Cathedral Chorus. Expect a heady and deeply emotional performance in an inspiring space, presented by the Minnesota Orchestra to mark the sixtieth anniversary of the liberation of the prisoners from Nazi concentration camps. 88 17th St. N., Minneapolis; 612-371-5656; www.minnesotaorchestra.org

For a young female songwriter, treading the folk-bluegrass line can be tricky. Tip too far toward the sensitive folkie side and you might get tossed altogether into the “women’s music” ghetto. But sing or play with too much of a twang and you can be relegated to the stodgy “pickin’” circuit, where politics lean to the right and men wear mustaches. Young gracefully navigates this dodgy terrain with music that takes cues from American tradition but doesn’t seem stuck in the past. She’s a country girl at heart, which shows in abundant agricultural metaphors (Plow to the End of the Row was her first album), her liner-note dedications to 4-H’ers and organic farmers, and album art that’s full of ornate vintage prints and folksy-philosophical musings. But she’s well versed in the world beyond the back fence, deftly touching on current events and big questions in her astute lyrics. It doesn’t hurt that her Little Sadie sidekicks are first-rate pickers who seem spiritually connected to their flaxen-haired leader. This is hand-sown, pesticide-free music in a megafarm world. 416 Cedar Ave S., Minneapolis; 612-338-2674; www.thecedar.org

“The music is a mix between old skool hip-hop and northern soul and going for a dynamic feel like a double dutch team.” That’s how Go! Team leader Ian Parton described his band’s sound in a recruitment ad a few years ago, but he was probably forced to be brief. Actually, it’s something of a game among critics to identify the whole mess of other genres the Team throws around. Their solid pop-rock foundation is distinctively sauced with blaring horns and cascading drums inspired by seventies action TV shows, as well as hip-hop and rap, punk and new wave, and unintelligible cheerleader rants that recall the sassiness of Kathleen Hanna from Le Tigre. Throw in some Bollywood and Motown, some harmonica and banjo, and you have the makings of a sonic disaster. But in the hands of these six energetic Brits, it’s positively ebullient. And while they don’t shun scratching and sampling, it seems that what they love best is analog sound, served straight-up and raw at a live show. 612-332-1775; www.first-avenue.com