Blog

  • Enchanted

    Fantastical, magical creations are very popular as of late—lots of dragons and magicians and cyber-wonders fill pages and screens—and the art world is stepping into that terrain as well. Does it mean dreams will become reality, or does it mean dreams will keep reality at bay? That’s for the viewer to decide. But these artists’ confected worlds will be interesting to contemplate regardless. Curated by Minneapolis sculptor Andréa Stanislav, Enchanted is colored by her surreal tastes: Local fabulists Chris Larson, Alexa Horochowski, and Erik Ullanderson will show alongside Hawaiian Scott Yoell and Londoner Isha Bohling, among many others. Tune out the evening news; when reality sucks, these artists create new ones.

    Katherine Nash Gallery, 405 21st Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-624-6518.

  • Nuestra Frida (Our Frida)

    Taken up by fans, feminists, malcontents, ideologists, and ax-grinders, Frida Kahlo has become much more than an artist over the last couple of decades. Yet somehow she is also often presented as less than an artist. In conjunction with Walker Art Center’s Kahlo exhibition, Grupo Soap, an alliance of artists who share a Hispanic heritage as well as robust senses of occasion and humor, will give its take on the Frida phenomenon. Last year the group produced four-by-eight-foot woodcuts printed by steamroller for a Día de los Muertos show. A poster for a 2001 show featuring the artists as luchadores (Mexican wrestlers) still hangs on walls all over town (the show was good, too). So expect their efforts to restore Kahlo as a complex artist and Mexican citizen as well as an iconic sufferer—Our Lady of a Thousand Coffee Mugs—to be both serious and facetious.

    Grupo Soap del Corazón and Art Jones Gallery, Casket Arts Building, 681 17th Ave. N.E., Minneapolis.

  • Changing Hands 2: Art Without Reservations

    This major exhibition of Native artists includes Rick Bartow’s paintings, Preston Singletary’s glass sculpture, and Sonny Assu’s weaving, among work from more than a hundred others. The curators of this traveling show, Ellen Napiura Taubman, former head of the Department of Native American Art at Sotheby’s, and David Revere McFadden of New York’s Museum of Arts and Design, where the show originated, focus on presenting the work as part of the larger art world rather than as ethnological artifacts. For a long time, people referred to Indian art if they wanted to know more about, say, Indian spirituality. This show insists that Native art, like all other art, captures the world through the eyes of individuals who have unique experiences and identities—but are not necessarily defined by them.

    Weisman Art Museum, 333 East River Rd., Minneapolis; 612-625-9494.

  • Minnesota Biennial: 3D II

    Eagerly anticipated by sculptors across the state, this overview of the medium promises to be quirky and eye-opening. Jennifer Jankauskas, associate curator at the John Michael Kohler Arts Center in Sheboygan, Wisconsin, chose just twenty-seven sculptors from 147 submissions. Some, such as Pete Driessen and Ruben Nusz, are better known as painters than sculptors; others, like David Swanson and Anastasia Ward, predicate alternate realities that are by turns amusing and disturbing. Some are well known in the Cities; some are completely new. Expect some surprises; sculpture has been spreading out to embrace new territories. Perhaps it is the medium best able to absorb the constant shifts in contemporary culture.

    Minnesota Museum of American Art, 50 Kellogg Blvd. W., St. Paul; 651-266-1030.

  • Mary Ellen Childs' Playlist

    More than a composer, Mary Ellen Childs devised a neat trick to lure skeptical listeners to her contemporary chamber music concerts. The Northeast Minneapolis resident is known nationally in avant-garde music circles for supplementing cutting-edge sonic experiences with any number of visual hooks. With Dream House, for instance, which premiered at the Southern Theater in 2004, rhythmic music for live string quartet and innovative theatrical lighting played against time-lapse video of a demolition and subsequent construction at the site of Childs’s own home. Twin Citians haven’t heard (or seen) much from Childs in the intervening years, but she is presently putting the finishing touches on a retrospective for Crash, the “visual percussion” ensemble she has worked with for the past twenty years, whose members have backgrounds in everything from marching band to dance and tai chi. Drumming in Motion: Mixed and Remixed incorporates drummers on wheels, giant illuminated gongs, and a marimba powered by stationary bicycle. And, of course, it wouldn’t be a Childs performance without a collaborating video artist—in this case, Daniel Polsfuss. Hints of what inspires these irreverent and, at times, oddball creations can be found in this annotated list of Childs’s favorite albums:

    1. Rivers and Tides, Fred Frith
    Spare but perfect music written for a beautiful film about a fascinating subject. Every time I listen to it the images from the film come flooding back.

    2. Accordion Tribe, Guy Klucevsek,
    Maria Kaleniemi, Lars Hollmer, Otto Lechner, and Bratko Bibic
    The accordion has always been one of my favorite instruments for which to write. And what could be better than one accordion, but five? The sound of these fine musicians playing together is nothing short of amazing.

    3. Volver, Alberto Iglesias
    I loved this Almodóvar film and was so enchanted by its sonorous and evocative music that I bought the CD the very next day.

    4. Eislermaterial, Heiner Goebbels
    For some this is an acquired taste. For me, I can’t tell you why I am so taken with Heiner Goebbels’s music except that it’s not quite like anything I’ve heard before. It has an ineffable “something” that completely captures my imagination.

    5. The Essential Michael Nyman Band, Michael Nyman
    Years ago an enthusiastic Michael Nyman fan introduced me to his music and I thought “So?” Recently, however, I listened again—and I’m riveted. This music goes straight to my heart.

    6. Film Works Anthology, John Zorn
    The range of styles and moods on this cross section of Zorn’s work is impressive and fascinating.

    7. Livro, Caetano Veloso
    What else can I say about Caetano Veloso except that he’s a master? I can listen to his voice, his songs, hour after hour.

    8. Earbox, John Adams
    I’m such a John Adams aficionado that one CD will not suffice. This is a ten-CD set, but if pressed to recommend just one piece, it’d be Fearful Symmetries. The virtuosic and emotional sweep of this orchestra piece gets to me every time.

    9. Perfectly Frank, Tony Bennett
    This is my favorite way to hear Frank Sinatra hits—sung by Tony Bennett.

    10. Light, Ethel
    I’ve worked with Ethel and these guys are simply the best. They’ve been called a string quartet that plays like a rock band—and it’s true.

  • Take This Bread

    Back on October 23, a reader wrote to tell me that she and a friend had gone to Blackbird and while the overall experience was wonderful ("Both our meals were quite good — [my friend] nearly licked her plate — and I like that it’s in my neighborhood, friendly service, etc."), they were soured by the fact that they were charged $1.50 apiece for a couple slices of bread with foil packs of chilled butter.

    I published her complaint in an entry called The Staff of Life. . . .Shouldn’t it be Free?, omitting the name of the restaurant (because I didn’t want to single out a small, family-owned bistro when many restaurants have the same practice) and asking other readers to weigh in. I had no idea what a firestorm would ensue.

    "If you don’t want to provide bread, don’t provide bread. Charging for bread is tacky," one commenter wrote.

    "I don’t understand why you won’t tell us the name of the place that
    charged for bread," said another. "Don’t you want to prepare us so that we know that we
    will pay for bread if we choose to eat there?"

    "I agree that there’s no reason not to name names here," someone else chimed in. "If it’s a part
    of the dining experience – for good or bad – it seems part of the
    reviewer/blogger’s responsibility to inform and attribute, not simply
    toss off as a curiousity."

    So I’m naming names, but in the interest of fairness, I wanted to give the people at Blackbird an opportunity to respond. So I called Gail Mollner, who owns the cafe with her husband, Chris Stevens.

    She sighed and said, "I thought diners were over this."

    Ten years ago, when she worked at Table of Contents, Mollner says they instituted the practice of charging for bread, in an effort to keep costs to the customer above board.

    Here’s the rest of what she said: "Restaurants have very small profit margins. We’re insane to be doing this. We do it because we love it and because it makes us happy and maybe in five years we’ll make enough money to go to Hawaii. But we can’t compete with the chains on entrée and wine prices. The only way we can compete with fair prices is to be totally up front and honest about everything you as a diner are paying for. I could offer bread for free but then my entrée prices would go up. Because New French Bakery doesn’t just come to my door and give me free bread, so I can’t turn around and give it away for free. In fact, grain prices recently went up about 15% on the commodities market; I just got a letter to this effect. So now I have to turn around and pass along this price to my customers."

    The other point Mollner made is that as a small, neighborhood place with limited seating and a tight budget, they simply can’t afford those patrons who order only a dinner salad, get a free basket of bread, and sit, drinking tea and buttering slices for hours.

    And that foil-wrapped butter (which, if you ask me, was the final straw for our reader)? Mollner said she hates it, too. But there simply isn’t enough space or time in her small kitchen to make, separate, and plate butter pats.

    How about olive oil? I offered. Mid-grade virgin topped with black pepper. Call it done. Studies actually show that people eat less bread when it’s served with olive oil versus butter. But that would require a hefty investment, Mollner pointed out. Cruets, pepper mills, not to mention the oil itself.

    In Blackbird’s defense, I want to point out that the bread they do serve (from New French) is of very high quality. And items such as soup, salad, and lasagna come with a piece or two for the purpose of sopping up dressing or sauce. Also, they’ve put a stop to a major source of wastage — which is a big problem in the restaurant industry. When they first opened, Mollner said they did provide free bread and about half of it went back to the kitchen, untouched. "And I kept thinking, why am I throwing away this beautiful product?"

    For the record, I also called Cafe Maude, which one reader of my original post "accused" of being the offending restaurant. And while Maude does offer a baguette with jam on its mid-day menu (for $2), they do provide free bread in the evening when prices go up.

    "We’ve had discussions about it but we’ve decided it’s just part of the dining experience," says manager Chris Gehrke. "It’s there to tide one over while we prepare what we hope will be a dynamic entrée. Bread is not the star of the meal, but we feel it’s part of the rounded experience."

    I stand by my original recommendation that higher-end restaurants should provide bread gratis but ask patrons if they want it, eliminating perhaps 50% of their bread costs and most of the waste.

    Beyond that, I found it is interesting how exercised people became over this issue. It reminded me of a passage in A Tree Grows In Brooklyn, the 1943 novel by Betty Smith about an impoverished Irish-American family living in turn-of-the-century New York.

    Katie Nolan, the mother in ATGIB, is a tough matriarch who stretches pennies to feed her family, even while her husband, a handsome singing waiter, drinks himself to death. But the one luxury she gives her children (her children, mind you) is coffee: three cups a day. The older, Francie, loves the smell of coffee and enjoys holding the cup in her hand but doesn’t particularly care for the taste. So after her coffee goes cold, it is dumped down the sink, every time.

    Katie’s two sisters — both running lean households of their own — object, to which the usually hardened woman responds: "Francie is entitled to one cup each meal like the rest. If it makes her feel better to throw it away rather than drink it, all right. I think it’s good that people like us can waste something once in a while and get the feeling of how it would be to have lots of money and not have to worry about scrounging."

    There’s something about a basket of bread, delivered with no contract or expectations, that makes a diner feel valued, cared for, and rich. And that feeling, in the end, may be worth every penny a restaurateur pays out to make it happen.

  • Books for Children, Adolescents, and Adults

    BOOKS & AUTHORS
    Raking through Books

    If you’ve been resenting the lack of story time for adults, then this evening’s Raking Through Books will please you immensely. Twin Cities local
    literati — Shannon Olson, Carl Brookins, Heidi Erdrich, Todd Boss, and
    Colleen Kruse — will read from books they liked as children. What fun! They won’t be tucking you in and giving you a kiss on the forehead, but if you down a couple of cocktails, you should have no problem drifting into peaceful slumber once you’re home. Featured books, including Olivia Helps with Christmas, are for sale at a twenty percent discount at the University of Minnesota Bookstore.

    5:30 to 7:30 p.m., Kieran’s Irish Pub, 330 2nd Ave. S., Minneapolis; free.

    Joe Sacco

    The comic book has come a long way since Superman, with
    graphic novels now (rightfully) garnering literary cred and occupying
    their own constantly expanding section at the local Barnes& Noble.
    But with his unique brand of “cartoon journalism,” Joe Sacco has put his influential stamp on the medium. When Sacco applies his “comic book” treatment to subjects like the occupation of Palestine, war
    in Bosnia, and the Gulf War, the results are superior works of both art
    and reporting. Sacco conducts hundreds of interviews for his books, and
    tells these personal narratives with feverish mishmashes of frames that
    are more evocative and harrowing than most front-page news photos. Tonight, as part of Walker’s Brave New Worlds political art series and the Rain Taxi reading series, he discusses his approach and inimitable artistic style. Danielle Kurtzleben, photo by Michael Tierney

    7 p.m., Walker Art Center, 1750 Hennepin Ave., Minneapolis; 612-375-7600; $10 (members $8).

    Melissa Fay Greene

    Melissa Fay Greene made her big splash with National Book Award finalist (and perennial book club favorite) Praying for Sheetrock, a social history of a tiny Georgia county struggling to come to grips with the challenges and ramifications of the Civil Rights movement. In
    all of her work, Greene combines meticulous historical research with the
    dogged chops of a first-rate journalist and the narrative skills ofa
    novelist. Her most recent book, There Is No Me Without You, is
    the tale of Haregewoin Teferra, a foster mother in Addis
    Ababa, Ethiopia, and the AIDS orphans she has raised. At the Weisman,
    she will be joined in conversation with Hubert H. Humphrey Institute of
    Public Affairs professor Larry Jacobs. Brad Zellar

    7:30 p.m., Weisman Art Museum, 333 East River Rd., Minneapolis; 612-625-3363.

    FILM SEMINAR
    Rupture: Dark Fantasy and Dissolution in Post-Soviet Cinema

    For the last couple months, and through the end of the year, The Museum of Russian Art will be featuring the art of Geli Korzhev, one of the most influential painters of the 20th century. Russian art, in all its forms, has a strong history of bleakness, and Korzhev certainly lives up to this reputation. Tonight, Cold War cinema specialist Mike Bailey will explore Korzhev’s cinematic counterparts. Just as he was influenced by the cotidian sorrows expressed in postwar Italian films, the bleak nature of Korzhev’s later work finds its complement in Russian cinema of the 1980s to the present. "Under Gorbachev’s glasnost policy, Soviet filmmakers exercised new freedoms to criticize and reflect on the nation’s history," a trend that continued until just recently, as filmmakers experimented with genre and allegory in an effort to express and shape a new post-Soviet identity. If you go, make sure to ask Bailey for his take on why these filmmakers lack the sense of humor and playfulness of post-Franco Spain. Economy?

    7 p.m., Museum of Russian Art, 5500 Stevens Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-821-9045; reservation required.

    DANCE
    Koresh Dance Company

    Artistic Director Ronen Koresh takes on the history of American music (or at least a couple formative decades) with the Koresh Dance Company’s latest production, Looking Back: The Music of the ‘40s and ‘50s. Already known for their eccentric and energetic performances, the dancers paint a picture of this vibrant era, "weaving together the many styles, beats, fashions, and metaphors of this time
    period into one fantastic performance."

    7:30 pm, Northrop Auditorium, 84 Church St. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-624-6600; $31-$52.

     

  • If you're going to insult me, cancel my subscription first

    Here is the first sentence of today’s Star Tribune editorial on "Aiding Baby Boomers’ Search for Meaning": "The nation’s supernumerary baby-boomers have reached what’s being
    gently called "the second half of life," but the big generation is
    still doing what it has done since its diaper days: It’s demanding
    notice and altering the contours of every phase of life it touches."

    Yuk.

    And not only for the mawkishness. "Supernumerary" means superfluous, not numerous.

    Of course, maybe the editorial writer is superannuated, which means "too old to work."

  • Cursed

    Someone put a food curse on my house.

    I cooked like crap last week … Nothing lived up to expectation, mistakes were made at every turn, I threw my knife more than once into the wooden chopping block.

    Maybe it started with the Osso Buco my husband attempted last weekend. He had been craving the comforting dish and we were all looking forward to it. Sadly, not even his rich sauce could save the mealy, fatty pork shanks which he had substituted for veal shanks (fearing a revolt from the teenagers).

    That meal was followed by a diappointing bean soup, in which I used too few beans and too much stock. Post puree, the resulting soup was a thin, weak mess instead of a thick, hearty belly warmer.

    So I resorted to the repertoire and pulled together a meatloaf. But I miscalculated the oven temp/size of loaf/timing of sides and ended up with a set table, ready eaters, and a main dish with a nakedly raw center. More broccoli anyone?

    I won’t resort to victimology, that my mojo must have been off due to the illness making its way among my family members, or the silly situation that gave me stitches on Friday. I’m better than that, I’ve cooked through worse to better heights. So I thought I would be able to kick it into high gear and pull off a spectacular dinner party this weekend for one of the Grrrls who was debuting her current beau among her friends. The veg was good, everything else was average. They broke up the next day, I kid you not.

    My confidence is shaken, the phrase ringing through my head as I pick up a knife is a resouning YOU SUCK. What’s worse, this is a particularly bad time to have the whammy on my kitchen, we’re in the final countdown to the seasonal feast: Tday 10 days out.

    So tonight I am cleaning my kitchen from floor to ceiling and lighting a bound stick of dried sage. I don’t know what I have done to piss off the Kitchen Witch, but this evening’s meal will be cooked humbly and slowly. To rebalance myself I am making spaghetti Napoletana. The smell of freshly smashed garlic simmering in olive oil should help rebaptize my kitchen and there’s a chance the bright red tomatoes will bring me luck. Using a long and toothsome pasta like spaghetti just feels right. This is a simple dish that I could make with my eyes closed … but not tonight.

    Spaghetti Napoletana

    1 lb. spaghetti

    4 T olive oil

    4 cloves garlic: peel, then smash with side of knife, roughly chop

    1 28oz. can whole peeled tomatoes: drain most (not all) of liquid, move knife within the can to break tomatoes apart

    1/2 cup freshly chopped basil

    Freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

    In a big pot of salted water, cook spaghetti until aldente, DO NOT OVERCOOK.

    While pasta is cooking, heat olive oil in large saute pan over med-high heat. Add garlic and simmer until slightly browned. Toss in tomatoes and stir about to mix with garlic, add basil with salt and pepper to taste. Let mix reduce and thicken, stirring occaisionally for about 6-8 minutes.

    When pasta is ready and drained, add it to the tomato mixture and toss to coat. Sprinkly liberally with cheese and toss again. Slide it all into a large serving bowl/platter. Garnish with more cheese and chopped basil if you’d like. Serves 4 hungry people who might like a slice of garlic bread on the side.

  • Marshalling George Moskal's Latest

    And this other thing: One of my fave local fashion photographers,
    Nic Marshall, just sent along these new portfolio pics. Local designer George
    Moskal
    (also one of my faves) lent some of his latest looks for the occasion. I absolutely lurve
    the following fancy, gray brocade dress with roped belt. Actually, it’s the dress I first spotted at
    Eclecticoiffeur’s MNfashion Weekend runway show (see my half-assed photo of it here), and I’ve longed to wear it to a Christmas party ever
    since. Mr. Moskal, if you’re out there … Might you consider a loan?

    And finally, the beauty shot. I’ve always wanted freckles, too …