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Put those thoughts about “wearable art ”—the tie-dyed caftans and bat-winged tunics made from elaborately loomed, jewel-colored fabrics—right out of your head. With artists like Joseph Beuys, Yoko Ono, Yinka Shonibare, and The Art Guys, this exhibit is more like a bizarre, intellectualized version of Project Runway. Spanning five decades, its thirty-nine garments and other sundries deal with the social and cultural messages transmitted by clothing (e.g., Beuys’ iconic felt suit), as well as those we convey with our own choices (Patrick Killoran’s modified T-shirt and sweatpants). The 2004 reissue, in camouflage fabric, of Mimi Smith’s 1966 maternity dress, with its strategically placed, see-through plastic dome, is all too apt on many levels. We’d love to hear Heidi Klum improvise a response to that. 333 East River Rd., Minneapolis; 612-625-9494; www.weisman.umn.edu”

Is there a seasonal approach to art, as there is to eating? If summer puts one in the mood for sprightly, challenging, out-there work from contemporary kids, does that make fall and winter best for cozying up to rich, impressive oils from long-dead Europeans? If so, then this traveling show hits our town at the perfect time. It’s no stingy repast, either, but rather a feast of sixty-one paintings by names that always make it into the color-plates section of any art history textbook: Caravaggio, Tiepolo, Zurbarán, Goya, van Dyck, Frans Hals, van Ruisdael, Lorrain, Boucher, and Gainsborough, among others. Perhaps you thought you’d reaped enough benefits from the new wings at our local museums, but you can thank the Wadsworth Atheneum, currently undergoing its own expansion, for the chance to see these masterpieces. 612-870-3200; www.artsmia.org”

Norsten is one of those Minneapolis painters whose many, quiet years spent with his nose to the grindstone are paying off with higher-profile recognition of late: a slot in the Whitney Biennial earlier this year and a new affiliation with a New York gallery. Some (okay, it’s those dealers in New York) associate Norsten and his cranky, caustic, and often quite funny paintings with the likes of Robert Ryman, Blinky Palermo, Richard Tuttle, and Philip Guston. We’d venture a certain affinity with Raymond Pettibon, if only because both artists have their own strange obsession with, and take on, phenomena that are distinctly American. 527 2nd Ave S.E., Minneapolis, 612-605-4504; www.midwaycontemporaryart.org”

Virtually unknown here, Morrisseau is revered in his native Canada. The influential Woodland style of painting he developed stemmed from an isolated childhood in northern Ontario, where he was inspired by petroglyphs and drawings on birchbark scrolls, but also cautioned by his elders against indulging his own visions. He eventually gave in to his artistic calling no less, meeting with instant success in southern Canada in the 60s as well as criticism and controversy from his own Ojibwe people, who believed he was selling out their legends and beliefs. But younger Native artists in northern Canada found his work inspiring, and as one writer has pointed out, better they follow one of their own tribe than go to art school in Santa Fe. This is Morrisseau’s first major gallery exhibit in the U.S.; next fall, the National Gallery of Canada’s retrospective of his work will open at the National Museum of the American Indian in New York. 2123 W. 21st Street, Minneapolis, 612-377-4669; www.bockleygallery.com”

With its proximity to Macalester College, this new Mediterranean grill seems poised to fulfill student cravings for falafel, gyros, and kebabs. Shish’s hummus ranks as some of the best in the city, and for under seven dollars, you can get this lemony spread with a generous portion of gyros—a nice deal for wallet-watchers. The Shish burger, served on a pita with hummus, grilled tomato, and spinach, is a successful blend of cultures. The namesake kebabs may be spendy, but the bright spices make them well worth it. Just save enough money for a few post-prandial tokes on the hookah pipe. 1668 Grand Ave., St. Paul; 651-690-2212

Lager-battered onion rings, homemade ginger ale, and Frogger on a flat-screen TV. Is there really any other way to spend your lunch hour? The Chatterbox’s new outpost in Highland Park, a onetime Perkins, has been refashioned as a hipster den full of vintage couches and paint-by-number artworks—though it seems slightly more polished than the original basement-chic neighborhood bar in South Minneapolis. But the huge skillet breakfasts, tasty burgers, and creative bar snacks are still noteworthy, as are the focaccia pizzas with their tangy, herby sauce and toppings like tiger shrimp and lemon pepper chicken. And nothing goes better with the Chatterbox’s cornmeal-fried pickles than a pint of their Chit Chat Ale (or maybe that’s just the disco ball talking). 800 Cleveland Ave. S., St. Paul; 651-699-1154

Italian food had already gone from molto chic (oooh, pesto!) to ultrapedestrian shtick (humph, another Olive Garden) before carbohydrates, and thus pasta, went out of fashion. What has diners coming back to this cuisine, locally at least, is a mini-renaissance of neighborhood restaurants that focus more on Italian flavors than on heaping mounds of pasta. In fact, Brix doesn’t even bill itself as an Italian restaurant, though its menu says otherwise. Most of the pasta is made fresh in-house, and the dishes are riddled with rich Mediterranean flavors: tomato, pancetta, anchovy, saffron, olives. Here osso buco, which can go horribly wrong, is executed perfectly, with fall-off-the-bone tenderness. Plump roasted figs stuffed with gorgonzola sit majestically atop the carpaccio antipasto. And instead of checkered tablecloths and wicker-wrapped Chianti bottles, Brix’s space is modern yet warm, which speaks well to this next generation of Italian eaters. 4656 Excelsior Blvd., St. Louis Park; 952-698-2749; www.brixwine.com/home.cfm”

What do you get when you put two eight-hundred-pound gorillas—er, Minnesota literary lions—in the same room? Hey, we’re just joshing! Truth is, Robert Bly and Garrison Keillor were entirely at ease with each other when Bly appeared onstage, along with his buddy Donald Hall, at one of Keillor’s “Literary Friendships” events last year. Which, come to think of it, may be why Keillor is introducing his elder at this talk. Bly’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but if he’s yours, it would behoove you to show up here since the man’s been making fewer public appearances of late, and (not to be too blunt) he’s not getting any younger.

Goldberg is known for the best-selling Bee Season, a novel that adeptly portrays a family’s unraveling in its desperate search for some sense of fulfillment. In her follow-up novel, Wickett’s Remedy, Goldberg’s smooth writing continues to make suffering, this time from World War I and influenza, seem beautiful. The book is filled with voices: the dead whisper in the margins and newspaper clippings tacked on to the ends of chapters. While it seems a bit contrived on the page, it should make for an interesting bookstore reading: Do you suppose she travels with a chorus to incant in the background? 3225 Galleria, Edina; 952-920-0633

The tiny literary journal Rain Taxi seems to top itself every year, lining up an increasingly impressive array of authors and other writerly types for its one-day book festival. Among this year’s eleven presenters: Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie will read from her new book Half of a Yellow Sun; rock historian Steven Lee Beeber, author of The Heebie-Jeebies at CBGB’s: A Secret History of Jewish Punk, will kick it with the Current’s Mary Lucia; and Kelly Link and Gavin J. Grant will discuss what fantasy means today in light of their experiences writing their own stories, publishing the zine Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet and editing the fantasy half of The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror. Besides all those events, you can go trolling for used-book treasures, browse a host of literary magazines, schmooze with exhibitors from local publishers and other arts organizations, mess around with making (not writing) your own book, get a load of local celebrities trying to spell “solipsism,” and let loose with the kids at a party to celebrate the final book in Lemony Snicket’s Unfortunate Events series. 1501 Hennepin Avenue, Minneapolis; www.raintaxi.com/bookfest”