Author: rakemag

If this is a trend, then we see no problem with being called trendy. As soon as people discover the happiness-enhancing and near-addictive qualities of really good cupcakes–not to mention their portability–there will be cupcake shops popping up all over the city. It worked so well with coffee, after all. While we’re writing our business plan, you’ll find us at the Cupcake Cafe on University Avenue, quietly working our way through several of its thirty varieties. How about the Red Velvet with a spiked icing topper, or the richly spiced chai tea cake? Mad Cow, Black Bottom, and the cute-as-a-button Betty Crocker models cram the case. You can’t pass up the S’mores beauty with its marshmallow topping, and the Simply Chocolate can be taken as a shot, if you must. 3338 University Ave. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-378-4818

Only in the bluegrass world is an eighty-three-year old expected to keep touring as a matter of course. Then again, why not? Doc’s music is in the full flush of an ongoing bluegrass revival. He recorded a new album last year, and doesn’t seem inclined to retire anytime soon, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a big deal that he’s coming to town. Even though tickets are forty-five dollars, we’re not complaining. That’s a darn fair price to sit in the presence of this legend. 416 Cedar Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-825-3737; www.thecedar.org

Contrasting the new Walker with New York’s almost-as-new Museum of Modern Art gives us yet another reason to love living in the Twin Cities. MOMA still tells the authoritative history of modern art, and does so more efficiently by funneling larger hordes through its expansive galleries. The Walker couldn’t be more different. Lingering, wandering, and backtracking are encouraged in the galleries, and the new permanent collection exhibitions emphasize twentieth-century art history as an ever-mutating assembly of stories. In The Shape of Time, for instance, Claes Oldenburg’s giant, upended bag of French fries links to Reinhard Mucha’s wooden chairs sandwiching a typical white, rectangular museum pedestal in the next gallery, and beyond that (actually, in another exhibit), is Katharina FrischÕs Poison Bottle, which looks like it could be fabricated from antimatter. Three interpretations of everyday objects, with different scales, different versions of simplicity, different objectives. Throughout this exhibit, itÕs abundantly clear that the Walker is less concerned with authority than with undercurrents, provocations, discoveries, and alternatives to art-historical paradigms. The result is such a potent sense of freshness and possibility that we’re excited to see what goes up next. But we still need a couple more afternoons with this show–MOMA’s great to visit, but the Walker is a museum you want to live with. 612-375-7622, www.walkerart.org

Whether they recognize it or not, almost everyone has a personal gallery of oddments and artifacts stuffed in a closet or arranged on a shelf. Maybe these things are consciously collected, or maybe they tell a story about the time or person or place they came from. And maybe they deserve a wider audience–some of them, at least. That’s the thinking behind this intimate and fascinating exhibit of ephemera from the collections of American Swedish Institute members. Paintings, etchings, drawings, housewares, photographs, and an assortment of other objects tell stories of Swedes who moved to America, but kept the home country in their hearts, and on their walls. 2600 Park Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-871-4907; www.americanswedishinst.org

This traveling Seussentennial exhibition, honoring the beloved author’ hundredth birthday, lands in Minneapolis. Dr. Seuss introduced us to the Grinch, to Horton and Yertle, and to sneetches; he made us wonder what green eggs and ham would taste like. But here’ a chance to see work that didn’ make it into his children’ books, including a cousin to the Cat in the Hat, the seedy “cat from the wrong side of the tracks,” and a file of ideas that came to the dear Dr. while shaving, and thus were stored together in a “shaving file.” Who knew a little lather could be such a fecund creative source? 917 Nicollet Mall, Minneapolis; 612-338-4333; www.jeanstephengalleries.com

Emerging photographers Hock and Reinhardt, from Minnesota and New York, respectively, find the cure for homesickness through the lens of a camera. The pictures from this itinerant pair reveal a constant search for home and its comforts, familiarities, and reminders of loved ones. Finding home when you’re away is a strange, backward way to travel, and yet these vagabonds seem to come away from places with visual insights that go far beyond those of us average snap-happy tourists. 165 13th Ave. N.E., Minneapolis; 612-824-5500; www.mncp.org

As corporate promotions go, this one’s pretty darn admirable, offering as it does a glimpse of what’s new and different on the art scene. Each year, the eponymous mint manufacturer enlists a keen-eyed panel of folks (such as Walker Art Center’s Douglas Fogle) to help it purchase a couple dozen pieces from emerging artists, many of whom have since become quite prominent. Then the art tours various U.S. cities before winding up in the permanent collection of New York’s New Museum of Contemporary Art. This year’s selection includes pieces by Rob Fischer, the Minneapolis native whose fascinating constructions, cobbled together from rural detritus, are becoming quite the thing among collectors; and Minneapolis photographer John Largaespada. Also appearing: sculpture from Los Angeles’ Anna Sew Hoy (who’s showing at Midway later this summer); a Reed Anderson drawing; work from everybody’s favorite urban folkie, the San Franciscan Chris Johanson; and many more. 2640 Lyndale Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-871-2263; www.soovac.org

How must poor Jack White be feeling these days? He’ on everyone’ cool list after working with Loretta Lynn, and then his last girlfriend, Renee Zellweger, goes and marries a country singer–but it’s the dude who sings “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy.” If that’s the kind of country that revs up the Hollywood starlets these days, pasty indie rock lads everywhere must be in despair. But judging by the noise-rock jamboree that is Get Behind Me Satan, Jack isn’t wasting much time worrying over such things. The buzzing guitar screeches louder than a farm accident, and Meg White’s drum work seems at times to be part of some ominous welcome ceremony to hell. And several tuneful songs show that White hasn’t abandoned his old-school country influences.

Kurt who? We have always secretly preferred the songwriting of Dave Grohl. His sometimes loopy, sometimes profoundly smart rock songs are as melodic and addictive as anything by that other band he once played in. Plus, Grohl stuck around to write moreÑa quality to be admired, to be sure. In fact, the Foo Fighters have a whole lot more to share these days: two CDs’s worth. A heavy set and a softer one show off the split personality of this band, as does an intriguing array of guest stars, including Norah Jones and Led Zeppelin’s John Paul Jones.

The Schubert Club is importing some mighty impressive talents for this series of six intimate recitals, including performances by soprano Dawn Upshaw and artists from the famed New York Festival of Song–both of which, alas, are long sold out. But you might still get tickets for performers like Michael Schade, the young German-Canadian tenor acclaimed for his way with Mozart, and Isabel Bayrakdarian, whose latest recording, Cleopatra just won a Juno for Best Classical Album. Best of all, the concert by VocalEssence at the stunning Schubert Club Heilmaier Bandstand, on Raspberry Island, is free and open to everyone. 651-292-3268; www.schubert.org