Author: rakemag

I really wish I could say I liked The Man Show. In fact, I expected to like it, and even spent some energy, before ever having seen the thing, imaging what flattering things I might say about it. I expected it to be one of those things that jolted me out of my south Minneapolis comfort bubble. Because, first of all, the show plays in an outlying suburb for heaven’s sake! (And I grew up in an outlying suburb…) And second, the audience is completely different than what it is at, say, The Jungle–it’s more middle American, less likely to go out afterwards so that they can smoke cigarettes, drink wine, and argue with their friends about what they’ve just seen.

It’s no fault of Stevie Ray (the one-man performer in The Male Intellect), but this show just isn’t very funny. The script is based on predictable Men-Are-From-Mars-Women-Venus jokes that mostly fell flat last night. And that’s all the nastiness she wrote, because the experience was otherwise swell. The Chan serves up a damn fine margarita and walleye! And the company’s good, too–and by that I mean the folks who were sitting next to me last night (my party of two was seated family-style).

Onward to the weekend before us…

Here are the Fringe shows I plan to see:
Dancing Rats and Vampire Moms
How To Cheat (As previously noted)
The Depth of the Ocean, a show staged in the pool at the downtown YWCA. How neat!

I’ll be spending the better part of my weekend fringing… But if you’re not into that sort of thing, there’s also the Coral Lambert: Iron Pours show opening at Gallery 13 and the This Side Up cardboard exhibition at Creative Electric Studios. There’s some cool happenings associated with Tekween, a festival dedicated to exploring visual art by local Arab artists. There’s the Bike-in At The Bell. And, down in Rochester, there’s the Headphone Festival–which sounds worthy of a road trip, if I do say so m’self.

Today’s the big day I get to go see The Male Intellect: An Oxymoron? Although I very much plan to let loose and open what can often be a very closed mind (on account of a certain artistic snobbery), I’ll be sure to report back with a critique. The only bummer is that I would’ve liked to go see How To Cheat, a Fringe show that’s getting great buzz. But that show plays again on Saturday.

I saw a great Fringe show last night–Borderlines, which was, far as I could tell, a meditation on bureaucracy, national security, and red tape. Think airline security and INS folk scrutinizing an innocent enough international marriage. But the funniest part was the physical presences of the five performers who got to play the inefficient pencil-pushers. These guys had donut-induced potbellies (one donned an Amy Sedaris-style fat suit), and they even spoke an indecipherable form of acronym speak. It was pretty hilarious. And it was a little eerie for someone who once worked as a cog for a giant organization. This show is highly recommended to anyone with a spare fifty minutes and twelve bucks–especially if you flippin’ hate filling out forms and standing in line!

And this other thing (similarly filed under zany art): Does anyone know if that, ahem, Williamsburg flotilla finally set sail yesterday afternoon, per plan C, D, or maybe it was E?

Surely, by now, you’ve heard the story of a certain unshaven So Cal guy whose wife left ‘im a while back; and he was so heartbroken that he locked himself into the basement for several months, where he wrote and recorded brilliant sad songs. He subsequently became an emo pop star, and now, presumably, is living happily ever after. The end. Well, that guy, Greg Laswell, is playing the 400 Bar tonight at 8 p.m. Afterwards, he’ll reportedly be down the street at the Nomad to spin records and sign copies of a new CD single–his version of Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. (Funny how that song assumes poignancy in the hands of a dumped guy, huh?) My friend Jerry, of 2024 Records and Vitriol Radio fame (a certified audiophile), says Laswell’s “Through Toledo” is near the top of his list of 2006’s best records so far.

Best new find to stumble upon this weekend: Rewind, a new-ish vintage store in Northeast Minneapolis that keeps pretty terrible hours. (I mean, it’s difficult to get there if you’re working folk–basically Wednesday through Friday until 7 p.m., Saturday till 6). In any case, this store is the new project of Sarah Hoese, who used to sell her 70s garb at Theater Antiques. I bought a HUUUUUGE, navy blue hobo bag and a pair of never-worn brown-n-orange knee-highs. (They still had the $1.99 sticker tag on ’em–presumably from, oh, 1976. But in 2006 they go for $6–still a relative bargain!)

The other thing I found (while randomly driving about the Wisconsin countryside): Trade River Winery, which isn’t so much a winery as it is a wholesaler/importer of boutique wines. (It’s a family upstart that was dreamed up while mother, father, and son were vacationing in Portugal. So goes the story, they were “drunk and howling at the moon.”) I tried the Elaine Maria Sauvignon Blanc–yum!

Weekend agenda: avoiding the Uptown Art Fair–or rather, its visitors–except on Saturday afternoon, which I’ve reserved for walking about the thing until I find a birthday present for my niece. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve got something against the art fair. (No, I don’t subscribe to the rather ridiculous “It isn’t art and it isn’t fair” mantra.) It’s just that I LIVE in Uptown for heaven’s sake–just around the corner from where the fair begins. It’s a real pain in the butt, see, because, for one, the pilgrims like to go tossing their popsicle sticks and ice cream sandwich wrappers on my lawn. And “the boyfriend” (always with a definite article so that he feels secure), will have trouble finding a parking spot. Me, I have off-street parking… which means I’ll also spend time warding off the crackheads who dare try parking in my spot!

Other stuff: Fringe Festival. I didn’t make it out “fringing” last night. But my particular picks for the weekend include: 12 Dancing Pricesses, which features my favorite Cafe Barbette barista; Music That Moves, which knocked my socks off at the Fringe Festival preview; and The Doctor Matt Show (Not A Doctor), created by and starring Pioneer Press reporter Matt Peiken, whose book by the same title cracked me up a lil’ bit.

And on Saturday evening, there’s an opening reception for Fashion Statement: Artists Explore The Realm Where Fashion Collides With Pure Self-expression at Outsiders and Others.

Here’s the dish on the two fashion shows I mentioned, for the girlie-girls:

In The Moment… A fashion show by Kimberly Jurek of Kjurek Couture at Azia Restaurant and Bar tonight (presented by Gallery 360 and Cliche–that one boutique on Lyndale, near Muddy Waters). Reception is at 8. Show’s at 10. Weird, but I think it’s free.

The Girls’ Night Out Party at Bar Abilene, which promises cosmos and dessert as well as a fashion show by Local Motion–that one store on Hennepin and 28th. It should be noted that this party is actually a fundraiser for Jungle Theater… And I’m not sure how much that’s going to set you back. Things should get started at, oh, about 8 p.m.

So much cool stuff is about to let loose. The Minnesota Fringe Festival starts tomorrow, for example–as I’ve already beat into the dead horses here on this site, I happen to be a big fan of this event. And, (click), there’s, like, at least two fashion shows tomorrow night. But lucky for the socialite sap likes of us, anticipation is often sweeter than the experience itself, and that’s why I offer this sample of moderate enticements to bide you through the p.m.:

If you be a hipster: Gnarls Barkley (note to the non-hipsters: sic!) is playing 7th Street Entry. These guys and Sharon Jones have helped put some funk in the Jetta.

Bohos / scavengers / the privileged poor: Catch the Soo Visual Art Center‘s annual rummage sale between noon and 6 p.m.

Canvassers / bike messengers / gourmets: There’s the Cinema and Civics event at Stevens Square Park, which pairs the feature film The Real Dirt On Farmer John with appearances by local gardeners (and The Brass Kings).

Throwbacks: Singin’ In The Rain at Chanhassen Dinner Theaters. I seriously want to see this show, if only to hear the catchy chime “Good Mornin’.” But sadly, on my next trip to Chan, which will happen sometime within the next few weeks, I’ll be accompanied by the boyfriend who’s dying to see The Male Intellect: An Oxymoron?. I wish I was kidding.

Exercise bulimics / lechers: The Lake Calhoun-Lake Harriet loop, on repeat. That’s why I’ll be running Lake Phalen!

Of course, the biggest A-and-E news of the day, at least in the circles I shake in, is the Ween concert at the Historic State Theater. (Will they leave burrito smears on the curtains?) But that’s not exactly a secret now, is it? However, those Venetian mask makers I referred to last week are starring in a workshop and reception today at Edina Art Center–these being the same guys who did masks for the worst Kubrick flick ever, Eyes Wide Shut.