Author: rakemag

Unlike the writer with whom she shares a surname, Eva Hesse is one of those artists who really never goes out of favor. Sure, there’s nothing like a tragic, early death to provoke and sustain interest (she succumbed to a brain tumor in 1970, at the age of thirty-four), but the fact remains that work from this German-born artist, who fled the Nazis with her parents as a toddler, seems as fresh and exciting today as it did four decades ago. This exhibit in particular has been praised for largely setting aside the drama and promise of Hesse’s life story in favor of focusing on the evolving relationship between her drawings (including collages and gouaches) and her sculptures, tracing Hesse’s innovations in both media. Supplementing some 150 drawings are several “relief drawings” incorporating papier-mâché, cord, and paint, as well as “test pieces” conceived as a form of three-dimensional drawing using materials (including latex) that were very nontraditional at the time. 612-375-7622; www.walkerart.org

The University of Minnesota’s McNeal Hall is home to something of a dream closet: an archive of more than twenty thousand articles of vintage couture. Most of these pieces were bought long ago, and mostly by Minnesota women with the wherewithal to shop the Oval Room or the old Young-Quinlan and Frank Murphy department stores in downtown Minneapolis. For this show, the Goldstein Museum has ventured into its McNeal Hall stash to unpack treasures from four designers who were integral in changing what women wore in postwar America: Norman Norell, Bill Blass, Geoffrey Beene, and Pauline Trigère, a Frenchwoman who set up her own fashion house in New York in 1942. Highlights include Beene’s 1968 “M&M dress,” a flirty silk number with layers upon layers of fabric-covered buttons, and a psychedelic slip dress, lavished with both feathers and frayed chiffon, from the Blass collection of the same year. 1985 Buford Ave., St. Paul; 612-624-7434; Goldstein.cdes.umn.edu

Call it the forerunner of the demolition derby. One hundred and ten years ago, tens of thousands of people gathered to witness the collision between two late-model steam-powered locomotives in Crush, an east Texas town specially established for the event. While it was conceived by one William George Crush as a promotional stunt for his employer, the Missouri, Kansas & Texas Railway Company, people interpreted it as a clash between any number of dualities: progress and destruction, past and future, technology and money, even North and South. It’s those kinds of opposing forces, as well as the “Crash at Crush” itself (a heartland legend), that serve as inspiration for the latest installation by Minnesota artist Chris Larson, whose last local exhibit involved a space rocket smashed into a structure described as Ted Kaczynski’s cabin. 612-870-3200; www.artsmia.org

Minnesota’s northwoods overshadow its southwestern prairies, but Jim Brandenburg—the acclaimed nature photographer and Ely resident who’s best known for his images of woodlands and lakes—is doing his part to change that. His foundation is working with the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service to bring back the tall grass prairie on hundreds of acres near his hometown of Luverne. And now there’s this exhibit of forty-three lush photos, featuring the kind of work that has brought the photographer acclaim from the National Geographic Society. Our only quibble is that these images, however gorgeous, are printed on canvas, which diminishes their clarity and even makes a few of them look like paintings by a talented amateur. On the other hand, Brandenburg’s work is nicely complemented by a series of eloquent, sometimes downright poetic quotes from nineteenth-century settlers and explorers. 10 Church St. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-627-4430; www.bellmuseum.org

What do you get when you pair a television-production designer—the guy responsible for the look of shows like Law & Order and The Sopranos—with a woman who, as a former production designer for Matthew Barney, was instrumental in translating the bizarre visions of Mr. Björk into real-life objects? SooVAC will answer that question with Quantum Circus, a collaboration between New Yorker Michael Zansky and ex-New Yorker, now Minneapolitan Andréa Stanislav—both of whom also create art off the TV screen and outside of Barney’s studio. Together, they promise to fill the SooVAC space with a “multimedia spectacle,” drawing inspiration from such diverse sources as the House on the Rock, string theory, and glam rock. 2640 Lyndale Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-871-2263; www.soovac.org

So a burned-out social worker walks into a bar … and sets about drowning his sorrows. Just as he gets to talking smack about the cadre of mentally and physically disabled clients he serves, they begin showing up at the bar in droves. Sure, Interact’s productions often deal with disabled people and their challenges, but they forgo the preachy, treacly after-school-special treatment in favor of a humorous approach. For example, Worldwide Church delves into the type of intracommunity discrimination that has the wheelchair-bound asserting their superiority over the blind; the brain-injured refusing to put themselves in the same category as folks with Down syndrome; and so on. Sooner or later, they all must come to terms with their prejudices—including the seemingly fearless social worker, who faces down his own personal nemeses: dwarfs. 212 3rd Ave. N., Minneapolis; 612-339-5145; www.interactcenter.com

The script for this eighteenth-century comedy of British manners, stereotypes, and romantic entanglements is quite a mouthful, but by adding a few musical flourishes, the Jungle aims to create a rather more rollicking production. However, no amount of song and dance can steal the show from Mrs. Malaprop, the source of the term malapropism. A plum role for any actor, here she’s played by Claudia Wilkens, who’s demonstrated her comic chops on the Jungle stage many times before. 612-822-7063; www.jungletheater.com

Word is slowly getting around about the Ten Thousand Things company, which is best known for playing prisons and halfway houses. By reducing layers of artifice to the simplest costumes and rudimentary props and using only the best actors in town, this troupe has proven its knack for tapping into the emotional core of classical texts. That’s the sort of theater many of us “on the outside” are also hungry for, so the company has been adding a smattering of public performances to its schedule of late. In producing Shakespeare’s play about gambling for love, Ten Thousand Things has rounded up a cast that includes company veteran Steve Hendrickson as Shylock the Jew and Stacia Rice—recently christened a “curtain-call cutie” by another local magazine—as the lovely heiress, Portia. 612-203-9502; www.tenthousandthings.org

Too often the only news most Americans hear from the Indian subcontinent involves violence between Hindus and Muslims there. But followers of these religions weren’t always at each other’s throats. Kathak, the classical Indian style of dance that originated in the twelfth century, for example, was patronized by Hindu and Muslim rulers alike. As a result, it embraces diversity, much in the same way Sufism, the mystic outgrowth of Islam, has evolved. Honoring this affinity between the dance and the religion, Katha Dance Theater sets its signature kathak-inspired moves to the words of various Sufi poets, including Rumi. 345 13th Ave. N.E., Minneapolis; 651-209-6689; www.kathdance.org

Roughly translating as “dance of utter darkness,” Japanese Butoh evolved in large part amid the rubble left by World War II. Sankai Juku, the thirty-year-old company that’s appeared here previously a handful of times, is perhaps the most acclaimed practitioner of this avant-garde form. The troupe’s approach favors minimalist movements and poses that appear heavier and more grounded than other styles of modern dance; Sankai Juku founder Ushio Amagatsu describes it as “sympathizing or synchronizing with the gravity.” Per the Butoh standard, this performance involves a cast of just seven dancers who appear with shaved heads, white costumes, and white body paint from head to toe. Under a canopy of lotus leaves, they’ll enact a series of movements that, according to Amagatsu, extract various metaphors from the act of self-reflective gazing. 612-624-2345; www.walkerart.org www.northop.umn.edu