The Rake Magazine

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  • I Freak Danced a Stormtrooper

    If you happened to read my last article, you’ve probably already pigeonholed me as a sci-fi geek. While that much is true, I’m also an art, music, and Photoshop geek, among other things. I use the term loosely because in my mind a "geek" is someone who obsesses on any given topic with unabashed over-interest to the point of social questionability. I personally find this endearing. At any rate, last weekend, my understanding of the word "geek" took on a whole new depth.

    This recent foray into the realm of Science Fiction found me at the Bloomington Sheraton for the 2008 ConVergence Convention, an annual extravaganza that welcomes anything and everything sci-fi related. For anyone that’s been to a Minicon, Comicon, or any other "con," you probably know that these events can range from the nonsensical to the extremely nerdy, and yes, the outrageously debaucherous. And for those of you who are unfamiliar, let me break it down: Imagine a thousand social misfits being throw together into a no-holds-barred free for all for three days straight. During the day there are civilized interactions such as lectures, screenings, book signings, discussion groups, and swap meets, but once the sun goes down, room parties will rage into the wee hours, and rage they did.

    I arrived around 8pm on the second day of the convention, armed with a notebook, a shameless photographer, a Serbian fashionista, a Japanese computer nerd – and two bottles of vodka. Walking up to the main entrance of the Sheraton, telltale signs began to appear: a trio of Ghostbusters in full regalia; a gang of pimply gothed-out teenagers sipping lemonade on an outdoor patio; and an old man in a black robe with a wooden staff striding purposefully through the parking lot. We had arrived. Upon going through a 20 minute ordeal to score our convention badges, we were eventually set loose to roam.

    The first and second floors of the hotel were officially designated Party Floors. Each of maybe fifty rooms were rented out by convention-goers for the sole purpose of partying. Decked out in various themes, room topics ranged from Star Trek to Role Playing Games, to science fiction related TV shows and movies, to the totally undefined, but highly nerdy. The convention itself had also rented out certain sections of the hotel removed from the lecture and banquet rooms that housed the actually legitimate convention activities. Our first stop was the Space Lounge, an official attraction of ConVergence featuring a huge room lit only by blacklights – a neon mini-golf course; an entire wall devoted to glow-in-the-dark painting; a chill-out (or possibly make-out) dome festooned with beanbags, pillows, and rope lights; a stage where circuit bending art-noise performers buzzed and glitch-rocked for the crowd; plus a full-on fruit smoothie bar manned by some goth kids. We grabbed a few strawberry smoothies, which quickly turned into vodka smoothies and set off for the party rooms.

    Overwhelmed by the endless array of possibilities, we decided to start on the first floor, work our way around, hit the second floor, then repeat as necessary. One of our first stops was the Xena Room. As a big fan (yes, I’ll admit it) of the show, I eagerly popped in, only to have an awkward conversation with another Xenaphile while watching a fuzzy VHS recording of the show on the television and pecking at the popcorn which was set out for guests. The cute lesbian (of course) couple who were in charge of the room didn’t hesitate to chatter about their love for the Warrior Princess and happily showed off their collection of Xena memorabilia which included weaponry and bobbleheads.

    Other rooms included two interconnected Star Trek decks that were cleared of any hotel-esque trappings, and featured a floor to ceiling recreation of a star deck, complete with faux beaming platforms, a full crew of star fleet officers, and a bar that served either "green" or "red" alcoholic beverages, which we immediately took advantage of. A stop in the Willie Wonka room proved fruitful with sugary test-tube shots handed out by encouraging nerds, and enough candy to put even the healthiest of humans into a diabetic coma. Another highlight was the Toast Room, lined top to bottom with mylar and illuminated with red rope lights, where the hosts served up slice after slice of toast, topped with any number of delicious (and not so delicious) toppings such as corn, bamboo shoots, brushetta, fruit, and nearly twenty more options.

    We kept trucking along, stopping briefly to watch a full-on light saber battle which had randomly taken over a cordoned-off patio near the pool. Darth Maul, in full costume, moved stealthily around his opponent while hordes of costumed spectators snapped pictures and cheered. We eventually made our way to floor two, which featured packed hallways with room-occupants hooting and hollering for people to enter their chambers. Cute girls in plaid skirts and low cut white blouses with head sets beckoned with promises of free cupcakes. A man wearing a sandwich board and ringing a bell advertised a party where free condoms and temporary tattoos were being dished out. Despite the general oddity of the whole situation, I found the most unusual experience to be the food served: ham sandwiches on wheat bread; tiered cakes that seemed to have a woodland fantasy theme; vodka soaked maraschino cherries that the server explained had been soaking since the previous year’s convention; and of course, the aforementioned at the Toast and Willy Wonka rooms.

    The whole while, I continued to spike readily available non-alcoholic (and alcoholic) beverages with my handy bottle of Stoli tucked undisguised in my purse. The tipsier I got, the more entertaining the parties and the people became. I shucked off my typical awkward shyness to make eyes at guys in cloaks and to yell at Klingons. I repeatedly returned to the Egyptian Room, where the heat was cloying, but where keg cups full of merlot were readily available. I lost my friends, found them, and lost them again numerous times, all the while picking up strays and making new drunken pals along the way.

    As the night wore on, the general party seemed to be moving towards a large performance hall on the second floor, which featured a DJ playing a danceworthy mix of 80s hits for a throng of some 200 weirdos. By this time I was severely hammered, my bottle of vodka not nearly as full as it had once been, and I was pretty much free of my normal inhibitions. My Japanese computer nerd friend (who is also a breakdancer, go figure) yanked me onto the dancefloor, and I let him. I should tell you now, that when (and if) I get drunk enough to dance, it’s usually an all-out spectacle, and this was no exception. After doing some comical dance routine-esque moves with my friend, I somehow morphed into the arms of gyrating alien with a paper-mache mask that had long stalks protruding from the head. At some point, I swapped him out for a Stormtrooper, who, in head to toe costume, still managed to bust a move – and feel me up. Eventually I stumbled outside, fell in a bush, and got carted home by my friends around 6am. All in all, a grand experience.

    While I hate to write an article soley about the party aspect of the convention (which definitely has a reputation for being an amazing resource
    for Science Fiction afficianados, and has a mile long list of highly respected artists and speakers attached to it), I can’t help but say that ConVergence was the best party I’ve been to all year. I’m counting the days until the next one, which I hopefully won’t be banned from for writing this article.

    For more information on ConVergence Con, which already is updating it’s site in preparation for next year’s festivities, go to www.convergence-con.org

    To see tons more photos from the Convention by Stephen Stephens of Digital Crush Photography, click HERE

  • Movies and Music Return to Loring Park

    MUSIC
    Movies and Music in the Park featuring The Alarmists



    This annual tradition is one of my favorites. I still remember my first
    time in 1992 or ’93…I was an angsty 15 year old when I went to see Babes in Toyland play – a band which I held in the highest regard (and I had the Lori Barbero-style dreads
    to prove it). That evening became a memory that I still identify as
    being one of the first times I really felt like I was part of an
    important scene. While Movies and Music in the Park
    may not become such an epic memory for most, I still relish the thought
    that a few young and inspired music fans may find their way there to
    experience the camaraderie that I did on that long-ago summer eve. Tonight’s musical act is The Alarmists,
    an energetic troupe of local phenoms whose indie pop-rock sensibility is as
    charming as it is danceable. Following their performance, enjoy a
    screening of the Marx Brother’s comedy, Duck Soup. Bring a blanket to sit on!



    Music at 7pm, Film at Dusk, Loring Park, Hennepin & Grant St., Minneapolis, Free


    READINGS

    Susan Quinn: Furious Improvisation



    Tonight at Common Good Books get up close and personal with author Susan Quinn, who will read from her new book Furious Improvisation. A gripping recount of an epic time in American history when the Depression was in full swing and the controversial Federal Theater Project,
    a daring experiment by the U.S. government, engaged, inspired, and
    offended audiences far and wide. Focusing on remarkable visionary Hallie Flanagan,
    director of the Theater Project, the Roosevelt administration, and the
    social turmoil spurred on by anti-communist sentiment, Quinn documents
    a captivating era in this fascinating portrayal.



    Want to make an evening of it? Try tasty tapas or a lamb burger at W.A. Frost’s bar popular for its upscale but affordable fare – just around the corner from Common Good.



    7:30pm, Common Good Books, 165 N. Western Ave., St. Paul, Free





    FILM

    There Nor There



    If you’ve never been to the historic Suburban World Theatre before, you’ve simply got
    to check it out. Lucky for you, I’ve got the perfect excuse for a jaunt
    to this beautiful old Uptown landmark! Through Wednesday, The Suburban
    World is offering a special deal for screenings of locally produced
    independent film There Nor There, complete with a glass of wine for $15. A cute date night for filmies, There Nor There is
    a dramatic portrayal of four friends struggling to find their place in
    society after college. After one of the friends unexpectedly commits
    suicide, leaving a bizarre note behind, the group is thrown into an
    altered state, loosely based on Dante’s "Purgatory", where nothing is
    what it seems – and the future depends on one final choice.



    7:30 or 10pm Showings, Suburban World Theatre, 3022 Hennepin Avenue, Uptown, $15

    MUSIC
    The Swingset

    Did the long work day take the spring out of
    your step? Head down to Cafe LoTo for a hepcat-friendly happy hour that
    will have you snappin’ your fingers in no time. The Swingset is a
    bi-weekly series that will feature the snazzy jazzy stylings of Supreme Privacy,
    a trio comprised of Devon Gray and Sean McPherson of Heiruspecs, and Andy
    Blessing. Come relax in the clean, modern ambiance of Cafe LoTo, sip
    cocktails and try out LoTo’s expansive menu of tasty fare that ranges from upscale bar food to gourmet pizzas to succulent steaks.

    5pm-8pm, Cafe LoTo, 380 Jackson Street, Downtown St.Paul, Free


  • A Cultural Complaint

    I was recently quoted in print saying, "I don’t particularly like complaining." This came as a huge surprise to many of my friends, who immediately contacted me about what they perceived as a glaring inaccuracy in the article. Of course, I protested that it all made sense in context: I was being interviewed about a music festival I co-curate and produce, and was trying to explain the genesis of the event. I was tired of hearing that there was "nothing going on" in town and decided to make something happen and give the lie to that particular complaint. I’ll admit, though, that anyone who knows me well will have often heard me complain about a number of pet issues. (e.g., Unless you have some time on your hands, don’t get me started on Daylight Saving Time. If you must, ask me about that in the fall, when you "gain" an hour.) However, I stand by my statement: I don’t particularly like complaining.

    I have two explanations for this seeming contradiction. One is somewhat legalistic: I don’t like complaining; it’s just that the world too often conspires to force me to do it. The other is closer to the truth: I think that once you find yourself complaining about something repeatedly, you have two options–either do something to create the change you want to see or shut up, OR get used to it and leave the rest of us in peace. Ideally (though this is often not the case) a complaint has a function, like the pain that makes you pull your hand out of the fire. It ought to help you organize your thinking about the world you wish to see and spur you to some kind of action.

    One of my favorite recurring complaints regards the visual arts coverage in the Twin Cities. Or, rather, the near complete lack of it. Our local media seem quite happy to repeat, ad nauseam, that we have a strong arts scene, or that the Twin Cities are somehow supportive of the arts. Well, this may or may not be true, but there is a difference between supporting "The Arts" and having any sort of meaningful or engaging discussion of any specific art. This is especially troubling as visual art thrives on discourse and withers in its absence. In some ways the difference between a piece of art and any other object is that the art object is a locus for discourse, an attempt to embody, however tenuously, some kind of idea or meaning, and to engage in some way with the history of those ideas. This means, in turn, that works of art are always contingent objects, and require community and context for their very existence.

    Oddly, though the local dailies and weeklies have "Art" sections, this tends to mean CD, film, theatre and dance coverage. Of course, there is nothing wrong with any of these forms, but when I tell people I went to art school, they rarely assume I must therefore be an actor. It’s been somewhat galling to me, as an artist, that the "Art" sections have precluded it’s very namesake: art. It seems odd to me that any day of the week I can find a review of a play, a dance piece, a film, a new album, or even of live music events that have already passed, yet seldom find any coverage at all of visual arts exhibitions, despite the fact that they are on display for a month or more. I was especially troubled this past year (troubled enough to cancel my subscription) when the Star Tribune "Fall Arts Preview" listed exactly four upcoming visual arts events. Of those, three were at the major arts institutions in town, and only one had any local content. The only other visual art related article in the entire section was reprinted from the New York Times.

    So, what will follow in my upcoming posts is my attempt to do what little I can to contribute to a change, to be part of a larger conversation, and to put my money where my mouth is. Offered the opportunity to be part of a group attempting to start some discourse about local art, I really couldn’t say no, despite several reasons to be reticent. As a practicing artist, I fear any implication of conflict of interest. Having many friends in the local arts scene, I worry about being either perceived as too partisan or having honest criticisms received as unduly harsh. As a non-writer, I may not be the man for the job. I guess we will see. I am happy to say that my fellow writers here have already given me less to complain about. All the same, I am sure more complaints will follow.

  • Dracula, Paella and Drinking Organically

    Where would Count Dracula dine if he visited the Twin Cities? We don’t have any Romanian restaurants, but if he misses the cooking of his native Transylvania (now a part of Romania), he’ll have a once-a-year opportunity on Saturday, July 26, when Saint Stephen Romanian Orthodox Church, Saint Paul, sponsors its annual Twin Cities Romanian Festival. The menu will feature Romanian sausage, grilled chicken, salad, Romanian pastries, beer and more. A Romanian music ensemble will perform in traditional costumes, and tours of the church will be offered.

    On second thought, this probably isn’t a good bet for the Count: the festival will be held only during daylight hours (11 a.m. to 7 p.m.), and the tour of the church is sure to include an abundance of crosses.

    July Special At Saffron: I’ve never really understood why the 112 eatery always seems to be jam-packed, and the terrific Saffron, right across the street at 123 N. 3rd Street is often half-empty. Don’t get me wrong – Isaac Becker is a great chef, and I love the food at 112 Eatery, but the decibel level can be awfully high, and the last couple of times I have tried to dine there, the wait for a table was longer than I could handle.

    I have never had to wait for a table at Saffron, which, for my money, ranks as one of the best restaurants in the Twin Cities — and offers a much quieter and more relaxing setting. Some of the entrées are a bit pricy, but there are also a couple of options for under $20, and sometimes we just share a few of the mezze (Middle Eastern tapas, $4-$6) or small plates (mostly $8-$10).

    The owners call the cuisine "Mediterranean and Middle Eastern," but that doesn’t really convey the sophistication of chef-owner Sameh Wadi’s cooking. They’re offering a three-course tasting menu again this month, but this time it’s a dinner for two, for $55 — or $50 for a vegetarian version. The July menu starts with a selection of mezze, followed by paella for two — made with chicken, seafood and saffron-flavored rice, with assorted ice creams and sorbet for dessert. Call 612-746-5533 for reservations.

    Drinking Organically at Agri: The cuisine at Cafe Agri, 4300 Bryant Ave. S., Minneapolis, may be a little too healthy for my tastes, but I would gladly go back, grab a sidewalk table and try some of their extensive list of organic and sustainably produced wines and beers, especially at these prices: lots of choices wines from Argentina, Chile and Italy, priced at $4.50 a glass or $18 a bottle, plus an interesting selection of organic and gluten-free beers, both domestic ($4) and imported ($7).

  • Golf Sex

    On a recent sunny afternoon in Minneapolis, four fabulous looking ladies put some serious sass into the usually bland game of golf. As the young fasionistas shimmied across the grounds of the Walker Museum’s new Artist Designed Mini Golf Course, the women combined ample cleavage and golf putters to make the fantasy of millions of American males finally come true. Astroturf never looked sexier.

     

    The gorgeous golf girls, who were all in their twenties and in ridiculous high heels, casually flitted around the unique sculptures/golf holes that were on display, even occasionally trying to hit a ball. On Hole Two, where numerous empty glass bottles hung from ropes over the putting green, the group giggled lightly as one of the women jokingly did a sexy come hither burlesque walk through the bottles. Ten feet away, a male golfer in a classic visor and Dockers nearly swallowed his tongue.

    Immediately following the four sultry women, my son and I stepped onto the golf course and the whole sex vibe instantly died. I’m a stocky Barney Rubble look alike and my son is Bam Bam dressed in Gap Kid clothes. There is no greater buzzkill in the world than a four year old boy wielding a golf club. With his index finger rammed up his nostril, constant barrage of mind numbing questions, and possible hot pile of poop in his pants, my son is two legged anti-Viagra.

    When the four hotties sauntered off to Hole Three, we moved onto the platform to the Hole Two bottle fun. Without a single word of instruction from me (I’m about as good at golf as I am at speaking Mandarin), Murphy drew the club back behind his ear and violently slap shot his golf ball all the way across the frame and out onto the lawn. The sex kittens playfully giggled as my son tore off into the bottle maze to find his ball. Within seconds, he couldn’t navigate the bottles dangling from above and soon looked like a drunk staggering around in a house of mirrors. I reached in and lead him out. After he retrieved his ball, he promptly slam dunked the thing into the cup and raced to the next hole.

    The course was at times difficult and at others just plain odd. With the sports aspect taking a back seat to wenches and weird metal roosters, at times I felt like it was something Andy Warhol probably came up with in gym class while all the dick hard jocks were tagging him with dodge balls. But each hole was inspiring and unique and the entire local artist congregation designed environmentally sound and challenging pieces.

    There were holes with water towers, giant carpeted waves, Paul Bunyan, and even one where we shot our balls into Teddy Roosevelt’s mouth. And amazingly, they were all made from recycled or reused materials like crushed glass and rubber tires. We spent a solid ten minutes at a hole where we had to peddle a stationary bike backwards to shoot our ball into a giant pinball machine, then use the hand brakes to move the flippers, and finally had to putt our balls through a labyrinth of slots.

    We finished golfing and took a nice leisurely stroll through the Sculpture Garden across the street. With the heat slowly fading away and the blue sky just beginning to fill with stars, we walked hand and hand under an awesome summer sky that was filled with both day and night. We playfully chased each other into a grove of trees where our innocent Father and Son moment was punctured by the sight of two young people dry humping the bejesus out of each other on a secluded bench.

    After I saw my son’s worried expression, I told him, “Those people are just wrestling.”

    “Like those two bears at the zoo?” he innocently asked.

    “Ugh, yep.”

    (I chuckled because every time we see two living creatures engaged in foreplay or intercourse, whether it is two horny twenty-somethings fresh from two-for-one drinks at Liquor Lyles or mating grizzlies at the Minnesota Zoo, I always tell him that they are just wrestling. And I don’t know why I do this. Maybe it’s because I went to Catholic school for thirteen years and was told that God would send a plague of locusts after me if I had premarital sex. The whole wrestling excuse seems to cover all the logistics of the situation. But I can’t help but think that when my son has his first sexual intercourse experience [when he’s married of course!] he will greet his partner with a flying forearm shiver as he leaps off the bedpost.)

    We quickly left the happy humpers and returned to the golf course to eat a small snack from the golf shack which featured food from Wolfgang Puck’s Gallery 8 Cafe. Darkness was just beginning to cover the grounds and the downtown city lights twinkled in the distance. The course was now bustling with a whole legion of people on dates. There were straight couples and gay dudes, all noodling each other as they swung golf clubs around. As we walked to the car, you could feel waves of summer loving wafting off the golf course.

    Who knew that a sport normally reserved for rich white guys could be such an aphrodisiac?

  • Devil in the Details

    Even longtime comic book/graphic novel devotees might admit to some fatigue with the apparent overkill of Hollywood translations at the multiplex, but the prodigious visual imagination, droll humor and sincere themes entertainingly weaved together by Guillermo Del Toro in Hellboy II: The Golden Army distinguish it among its peers.

    Hellboy seems an unpredictable choice for big budget Hollywood treatment amid lurching efforts to get higher profile and much longer established comic book characters to screen faithfully. Artist/writer Mike Mignola introduced the character (a noirish, blue collar paranormal investigator from hell) in 1994 during a flurry of creator owned character debuts following high profile defections of writers and artists from the stables of Marvel and DC Comics. Mignola’s writing and distinctive art, steeped in expressionism, gothic and Lovecraftian imagery with flourishes of whimsy, helped Hellboy stand out as a relative success, but its near underground origins make its two high profile and very faithful translations to film remarkable and indelibly linked to Del Toro’s ascension in Hollywood.

    As the director’s follow up to his Spanish language Pan’s Labyrinth (one of the very best films of recent years regardless of genre), Hellboy II borrows a few themes and visual motifs from that film and overall is less deferential to Mignola’s designs than in the first Hellboy movie. As a result, Del Toro’s deep imagination appears unleashed in a dizzying variety of characters and settings, embellished by a sumptuous color pallet that is by turns organic, otherworldly and lyrical. Hellboy’s principal nemesis, Prince Nuada (portrayed by Luke Goss), strikes an arresting visual presence in particular and their confrontations are cleverly staged and energetic.

    The movie’s accessibility to non-genre enthusiasts resides in its sense of humor, the care Del Toro takes to humanize his characters, and the story’s basic appeal to everyone’s sense of imagination. He never betrays the world or themes he has constructed for a cheap joke, but still manages to let the audience have fun with the absurdity of it all and through the main character’s world weary, lunch pail approach to problem solving.

    Del Toro will segue from Hellboy II to directing highly anticipated prequels for The Lord of the Rings (The Hobbit and a second film bridging to the existing films) with trilogy director Peter Jackson producing. Fans of those films seeking reassurance the story is in the right hands will find plenty to like in Hellboy II and in the rest of Del Toro’s filmography.

  • July 11, 2008: Hot And Windy, Just Like My Ladies

  • Having "It," but not necessarily talking about "It"

    Note to "media types:" Your power by using sexual innuedno to get the "prized audience" isn’t working so well…anymore!

    I have been spending a lot of time lately doing research on what people read and why. There are a few important areas that seem to bug the future of this country and the ones who will ultimately be the ones to make or break the disastrous state of our economy.

    First of all, kids, for the most part, are honest about everything. They are informed, sometimes too much, and can smell a phony from miles away.

    I asked my "research group" to help me understand what drives them to the sources they use for information, besides what they learn in school. The conclusion of my study was not surprising to me personally, but may be to some of you "media types…"

    Let me begin with this: The people I have been doing research with are teenagers from ALL walks of life and from different socio-economic backgrounds.

    Without giving away too much of the valuable information that I have accumulated over the last several months, I will share with you this, a portion of what I heard: "Don’t think we can’t figure out when someone has to use SEX in a headline to get our attention. If the writer has real experience and wants our attention, then it will happen naturally because we are inundated with images of SEX all day long and are numb to it. Thanks to the Internet, cable TV, bad radio shows…etc…We don’t think that SEX is any big deal."

    This, to me, a 40-year-old woman who is not embarrassed to say that I still feel shy about sex, is sad and disturbing.The allure of those great things in life we call "Chemistry" and "Love" seems to have hit the skids. And the adults who are using the innocence of young people to take away one of the pleasures we look forward to in life are responsible. This admittedly including myself at times.

    Sex may sell to some, but after a lot of conversations with the young ones, the excitement of the unknown, the mystery of what makes you fall in love and experience sex are still right where they should be: in their hearts. They still want it to be experienced the old-fashioned way: through unconditional love, honesty, kindness, respect, compassion, and friendship. Not from a "media type" who clearly would not have to talk about something sacred if they were getting that something sacred at home.

    As I was told by my parents and try to convey to my own teenagers: If you have "it," enjoy "it," and appreciate "it." The ones who don’t have "it" are easy to spot; just go on your gut and your morals and you will know.

  • Zinefest: Where Street Cred Meets Literature

    PERFORMANCE

    SuperGroup: GroupWork One



    I’ve got a soft spot for artsy weirdos, and artsy weirdos these are. New avant garde performance troupe "SuperGroup"
    will premiere their brand-spankin’ new
    dance/performance/art/theater/sculpture piece this weekend at the
    Bedlam Theatre to most likely baffled, but surely enraptured audiences.
    Collaborating with NYC-based performance artist Abby Browde, the group
    with take you on a journey of the absurd and the beautiful in this
    movement exploration of construction, destruction, monument and art. As
    the group says, "There’s no it to get – or maybe infinite its to be gotten". Want to make an evening of it? Feast at the Red Sea right around the corner, then head to the Bedlam for drinks and glorious oddity.



    Friday, 7pm (Through Sunday), Bedlam Theater, 1501 S. 6th Street, West Bank





    ART

    Face the Nation


    The affect of the changing world on typography will be on display when
    the Minnesota Center for Book Arts presents Face the Nation,
    a new
    exhibit that begins July 12 in the Star Tribune Foundation Gallery. The
    changes in typography between 1900 and 1960 – a period that
    encompassed two World Wars – will show how the desire to reinforce,
    redefine or transcend national identities shaped their design thanks in
    part to changes in technology. Two coordinating exhibitions will
    feature the work of two designers who explore typography in
    contemporary graphic design. There will also be several presentations,
    workshops, discussions and screenings included throughout. – Andrew Newman



    Friday, Reception 6-9pm, MN Center for Book Arts, 1011 Washington Avenue, Minneapolis



    SPECIAL EVENT

    Zinefest



    An annual tradition, the Minneapolis Zinefest
    plays host to some of the Midwests’ best homegrown artists and writers.
    This two-day event at Steven’s Square Center for the Arts celebrates
    independently published and DIY books (zines) made by Twin Cities
    zinesters. Over 30 exhibitors will be peddling their wares throughout
    the weekend along with displays of vintage Minneapolis zines, an art
    show, demos, discussions, and documentaries. Reading local zines is a
    cool way to beef up your underground pop culture street-cred, and
    Zinefest is a great place to get schooled on this interesting and
    little-known Twin Cities subculture.



    Saturday 11-5pm, Sunday 11-4pm, Stevens Square Center for the Arts, 1905 3rd Ave. S, Minneapolis, Free





    FASHION

    Rox Summer Sip



    Did you know Robyne Robinson made jewelry? Well, she does, and it’s totally gorgeous! Rox Jewelry,
    her line of strong and earthy diva-wear features one-of-a-kind
    creations designed and hand assembled by Robinson herself. Shiny
    baubles and raw stone compliment sparkling filigree, tusk, bone, and
    precious metals in this aptly named collection. Join Robyne at Bar
    Lurcat this Saturday afternoon for a glass of vino and a leisurely
    perusal of her finest wares. She can help you select the perfect
    compliment to any outfit, from a dazzling centerpiece necklace to the
    teensy glint of a delicate earring. Don’t worry boys – Robyne’s got a
    men’s line too!



    Saturday, Noon-5pm, Bar Lurcat, 1624 Harmon Place, Loring Park, Free





    ART

    Serious Art



    Here’s a truism of modern art: Every new generation of emerging young
    artists is convinced it will reinvent the culture. And, strangely
    enough, they all go about this reinvention pretty much in the same way:
    By making a bunch of meaningless noise. Think of Tristan Tzara here,
    and his poems that go nowhere. Think of Jackson Pollock’s random
    splotches and drips. Think of the long and ambling filmic experiments
    of Warhol’s Factory. It’s not surprising, then, that the upcoming show "Serious Art" at First Amendment Arts of work by young artists Michael Gaughan and the group that calls itself Hardland/Heartland
    traffics in the realm of the bizarre and incongruous. Even the PR
    material are in on the act, abecedarianally describing the show as,
    "absurd, barbaric, concerning, despicable, entertaining, flippant,
    gregarious, half-baked, intellectual, jarring, knowledgeable,
    ludicrous, mellifluous, non-sensical, outlandish, perplexing,
    quadrangular, ridiculous, subversive, typical, urban, verbose,
    whimsical, xeroxed, yawn, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz boring." What
    this means, likely, is a colorful and head-scratching aggregation of
    colorful drawings, collages, paintings, installations, hand-made books,
    music, and fashions. – Michael Fallon


    Saturday, First Amendment Arts, 1101 Stinson Blvd., Basment Studios, Northeast Minneapolis, Free





    SPECIAL EVENT

    Bastille Day Block Party



    The fearless folks at Barbette
    throw yet another amazing block party in honor of French independence!
    If you’re familiar with owner Kim Bartmann’s other endeavors such as Bryant Lake Bowl and The Red Stag Supper Club, you’re well aware that this crew is well-seasoned when it comes to block party throwing. Their annual Bastille Day
    celebration will definitely feature more fun in the sun than you’re
    used to on a Sunday afternoon, with a Northstar Rollergirls Mini Derby,
    an aerialist, a flea market, delicious organic food to your heart’s
    content, and a stellar musical lineup that will knock your beret off!
    Rock out to local notables such as the Sensational Joint Chiefs, Faux
    Jean (the original lineup!), Romantica, Black Blondie, and more.

    4-10pm, Outside of Barbette, Irving & Lake Street, Uptown, Free

  • July 10, 2008: Lockhorn'd