Author: rakemag

Indulge us for a moment with this ode to Walter Mondale: Fritz, the sight of you on a stroll around the Lake of the Isles stirs the embers of our hometown pride. When, startled from your retirement, you broke into a run, we came to appreciate the full meaning of public service. Your loss, while our loss, was your gain, in the end; you’ve earned the right to sit on your front step and watch the sun set on these summer nights. In another encore, one of a more unusual sort, our beloved Mondale will narrate the title character of Aaron Copland’s “Lincoln Portrait,” as performed by the Minnesota Orchestra. Other highlights of this year’s Sommerfest include the Minnesota International Piano-e-Competition Finals Concert, the Dave Brubeck Quartet, and free evening concerts on Nicollet Mall. Never are the sunsets in downtown Minneapolis more cultured or more beautiful. 612-371-5656; www.minnesotaorchestra.org

Finished, split up, kaput? If you’re talking about a Twin Cities band, give it a couple more years and chances are, they’ll be back together again. With the notable exception of Prince and most of the people he’s ever worked with, married, or known, there seem to be few permanent endings in this town’s music scene, and we love it that way. In Semisonic’s case, they never really broke up; they just got really busy doing other things, but it’s still a pleasure to see this friendly rock trio “reunite.” After a few frenzied months of fame around Closing Time, the guys settled into noteworthy solo projects, penning songs for the Dixie Chicks (Dan Wilson), playing in a jazz trio (John Munson and the New Standards), and writing a book (Jake Slichter’s So You Wanna Be a Rock & Roll Star). But no one disputes that they still sound great together, and this outdoor show just might be the best freebie the city will bestow on us all summer long. Hennepin and Washington Avenues; www.aquatennial.org

The subtitle of this sequel is not a reference to Johnny Depp’s tanned-and-toned torso, no doubt a relief to his legions of female fans. The chest in question, of course, is the booty-filled prop expected of all pirate tales, and the rest of the loot and swashbuckling is all here, too, just like in the first movie. But unlike the boatload of predictable bombs that make up most of the high-seas high-jinks genre, the Pirates films offer a bonanza of bizarre entertainment through Depp’s leering, dreadlocked, and mascara-ed Captain Jack. Projecting such fantastic freakishness requires real genius—more than enough to overcome the stupid-looking army of sea-creature villains that his Captain Jack does battle with, thus making this the best of the summer blockbusters.

Some people enjoy riding bicycles, while others have butts that just don’t feel right sitting flat on a chair, so thoroughly have they been remolded by so much time seated on their sweet two-wheelers. The Twin Cities have become known for their population of the latter type, who will gladly plant their posteriors in movie seats if it means watching cool movies like Pedal, a documentary about New York City bike messengers; Joe Kid on a Stingray: The History of BMX; or A Sunday in Hell, a classic account of a 1973 race. Those films and others are part of the six-year-old Bicycle Film Festival, which this year added the Cities to its exclusive tour, which includes New York, L.A., London, Sydney, and Tokyo. Films celebrating bikes of every stripe will show at the Riverview Theater on July 6 and the Bell Museum Auditorium on July 7, culminating in a free outdoor screening and party at the Soap Factory on July 8. Naturally, valet bike parking will be available. www.bicyclefilmfestival.com

Turns out that video didn’t kill the radio star, and the Internet didn’t kill ’zines. Although every postal-rate hike does knock a few of these intrepid publishers out of commission, the Twin Cities are still a hotbed of ’zine publishing. This second-annual festival of lectures, exhibits, workshops, and music brings the best of the bunch out of the underground. Hosted by the Stevens Square Center for the Arts, which houses an impressive ’zine library, this event proves that do-it-yourself publishing ventures still exist outside of the digital realm. 1905 3rd Ave. S., Minneapolis; or www.zinefest.org

Alexa Horochowski’s large-scale paintings show young girls innocently romping through worlds that don’t quite exist. In her bright fairy-tale scenes, the St. Paul artist shows children interacting with unicorns, swans, and other romantic creatures known to populate young girls’ imaginations. On closer inspection, however, other things appear to be slightly off in creepy ways: These are older girls, on the verge of the decidedly dangerous territory of adolescence, and many of them are naked or in positions of casual danger. Her work gives rise to the idea that perhaps it is the lovely myth of childhood innocence itself that doesn’t quite exist, and that the early years are simply training for adulthood. 612-870-3131; www.artsmia.org

If the very thought of a quilt show triggers memories of touring the dusty state fair crafts exhibits with your grandma, take a few steps back to the world of women’s crafts before the advent of Michael’s and the Hobby Lobby. In Gee’s Bend, Alabama, a black community pretty much cut off from the outside world, six generations of women developed an astonishing quilting style that utilizes eye-popping color juxtapositions and carefully erratic compositions. In fact, some of them have an uncanny resonance with the abstract paintings that (mostly male) artists were creating in New York and other big cities. The Quilts of Gee’s Bend exhibition at the Whitney Museum of American Art a few years back became an unexpected—and unexpectedly moving—blockbuster, one that ended up traveling to a half-dozen cities. In other words, don’t miss the opportunity to see some of these works right here at home. 2123 21st St. W., Minneapolis; 612-377-4669; www.bockleygallery.com

Here’s one more sign that Hopkins’ historic Mainstreet has become one hip stretch of sidewalk. Run by Chuck Venables, whose résumé boasts such flashy venues as Manny’s and Cosmos, Gusto’s grilled chicken panini with fontina, mussels with white wine and tomatoes, and gnocchi with brown butter and sage echo the standard of elegance he established in the big city earlier in his career. With satisfying food, a fine wine list, and a stylish dining room set in warm, earthy tones, Gusto adds a welcome dash of class to a street that boasts more (and better) entertainment than you’ll find at Block E. 922 Mainstreet, Hopkins; 952-945-9463

Nothing can spice up a kabob quite like a belly dancer. Naar Grille serves a mixed menu of Mediterranean and American favorites, punctuated by the occasional swishing hips of some very talented ladies (but these are family shows, of course). If you’re not too mesmerized to eat, try the traditional fatoosh salad with sumac and pomegranate molasses or a generous order of kabobs with a side of sweet pistachio apricot sauce. The menu includes some standard American dishes like steak and grilled chicken, but the best bets are from the old countries. Make an excuse to take in the scenery a little bit longer by lingering over a slice of the delicious honey cake. 11528 Leona Rd., Eden Prairie; 952-946-6227; www.naargrille.com

Last month we encountered a piece of paper stabbed with sticks into the sand at a popular local tot lot. On it was the message “Please, no defecating at the playground.” We’ve come to enjoy found-art moments like these, which make every trip to the playground a little different—the funky barrette affixed to a swing, the sticker-covered love letter fallen from a backpack, the graffiti carved into the slide. Playgrounds are one of the few examples of public art that demand to be used, changed, and interacted with, and lately every new one seems to boast of winning some design challenge. Friedl’s collection of six-hundred-plus photos of playgrounds, taken around the world since 1955, makes it clear that these sliver-and-bruise-generating artworks reflect their time and place as profoundly as any other medium. Come to think of it, that’s probably what the artist means by the ever-so-serious reference to a “distribution of sensibility.” 527 2nd Ave. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-605-4504; www.midwayart.org