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  • Fashioning a Movement

    To highlight our semi-annual selection of new fashion, we turned to a population that—let’s face it, unfair as it seems—looks delightful no matter what they’re wearing. Our models are four dance students at the University of Minnesota and their choreographer (who moonlights as The Rake’s stylist); we captured them during a rehearsal at the Barbara Barker Center for Dance on the Minneapolis campus. For the occasion, they donned an array of relaxed sheaths, stretch cotton pieces, and free-flowing mesh, plus splashes of bright prints—all trends to look forward to for the warm season.

    Spring Ahead

    Dancers at the University of Minnesota jump-start the season by flaunting all manner of fluid, warm-weather fashions, from high-waisted shorts and rompers to flirty strapless dresses.

    Luke Olson-Elm, a senior-year dance major, wears a key look for men: the shockingly bright necktie.

    Shirt by Tailorbyrd,
    $98.50 at Hubert White.
    Tie by Robert Halbott,
    $98 at Hubert White.
    Pants, dancer’s own.

     

    Perfect Balance

    Our sharply dressed dancers stand in formation, from left to right:
    choreographer/stylist Janine Ersfeld, Luke Olson-Elm, junior-year dance majors Julia Winkels and Yui Kanzawa, and senior-year English major/dance minor Teresa Tjepkes.

    On Ersfeld:
    Dress by Sweat Pea,
    $106 at Karma.
    Golden sash,
    stylist’s own.

    On Winkels:
    Tube top, stylist’s own.
    Shorts by House of Henry, $62 at Picky Girl.
    Cross necklace by
    Le Glitz, $54 at Picky Girl.

    On Kanzawa:
    Romper by Covet,
    $160 at Picky Girl.
    Canvas and leather belt by Le Glitz,
    $48 at Picky Girl.
    Jeweled velvet headband by Jane Tran, $36 at Karma.

    On Tjepkes:
    Dress by KAS Design, $69 (on clearance)
    at Karma.
    Turquoise necklace
    by Princess Mali,
    $325 at Karma.

     

    A Bold Move

    Tjepkes plays up the pink in a chic mesh top that’s plenty comfy to boot.

    Shirt by Weston Wear, $98 at Karma.
    Cross necklace by Le Glitz,
    $54 at Picky Girl.

    Flying Colors

    Ersfeld pairs two of the season’s essential trends: bold, floral prints and vibrant orange.

    Tube top and silk skirt, stylist’s own.
    Leather belt by Bennie and Olive,
    $58 at Karma.

     

    Worn With Grace

    Winkels shows off an ideal evening look for spring: a roomy silk sheath with gorgeous tailoring.

    Silk dress by Kenzie,
    $88 at Picky Girl.
    Earrings by Jill Smith,
    $32 at Karma.
    Indian jeweled bangles,
    $5 each at Karma.

     

    A Strapless Number

    Kanzawa models a bouncy cotton dress with all manner of lovely gathering.

    Dress by Miss Me, $62 at Karma.

     

    Rake Appeal Fashion
    Spring 2008

    Clothing and accessories provided by:

    Karma, 841 Grand Ave., St. Paul; 651-291-1997;

    Picky Girl, 1326 Grand Ave., St. Paul; 651-698-4107;

    Hubert White, 747 Nicollet Mall, Minneapolis; 612-339-9200;

    Concept, choreography, production, and styling by Janine Ersfeld

    Photography and videography by Marco Baca

    Art direction by Vangie Johnson

    Editorial by Christy DeSmith

    Hair and makeup by Lauren Spear
    (llspear@hotmail.com; 612-209-6534)

    Thanks to Anne Parr for production assistance.

    View a video of the quintet in a custom-choreographed performance designed to show off their garb.

  • Am I the First?

    Scott from Corner Table here. Well, you might have guessed what I will be talking about. LOCAL STUFF! I would hope that this is a blog that will be a place for us to comment on the people that comment on us all the time. I am sure that from "back of the house" to "front of house" there are plenty of people that would love to tell AB, AZ, KJ, RN, DM-G, JI, AP, PL, NN, what we feel is important to talk about. So, here goes.

     

  • A Casual Classic: Dinner and a Show

    WINE & DINE
    Metropolitan Delicatessen

    Enjoy a multiple course tasting menu with our favorite wine pairings tonight at The Rake’s World Flavors Tour. This month, join us at Be’wiched Deli for Metropolitan Delicatessen. Be’wiched
    Deli uses the freshest ingredients to create healthy food from scratch — featuring house cured and smoked meats and fresh bakery items. The meat they cure and smoke is raised by farmers who do not believe in using
    hormones or antibiotics. Space is limited and reservations are
    required. —Jennifer Havrish

    6:30 p.m., Be’wiched Deli, 800 Washington Ave. N., Minneapolis; 612-767-4330; $30.

    MUSIC
    Boy Toys or Toys Boy

    If you’ve found yourself missing New Kids on the Block and the Backstreet Boys lately, you should probably go check out the Jonas Brothers at the Target Center tonight (and then unsubscribe from this email, because I probably will never really write about anything you like — kidding, of course). But for a far more interesting show — with a fair degree of boyhood wonder and sap involved — you’re better off catching Say Hi to Your Mom at the Triple Rock. Sure, it’s emo. Sure, it’s computer generated. Sure, it’s vaguely pretentious and perhaps tries just a little too hard to be weird (just check out the bio on their website — talk about saying it all without saying a thing). But they—or rather, he, since it’s primarily Eric Elbogen—sings songs about toys with brains and the like. That’s pretty cool, right? And darn if they don’t sound nice. Listen to them here or here.

    9 p.m., Triple Rock Social Club, 629 Cedar Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612- 333-7399; $10.

    Or… you can get a little jiggy with it…

    Galactic Grooves

    Warm up with an evening of hot grooves from Galactic, a New Orleans based ensemble that may just be the rightful heirs to the godfather of soul’s funk throne. The band combines the neo-jazz sensibility of Medeski, Martin and Wood with the classic grooves of The Meters and then filters it all through a modern hip-hop prism. From The Corner to the Block is the band’s latest and perhaps greatest offering, a street-smart party record that will please lovers of the old and new schools of funk and fusion. And don’t worry, there’s no doubt that Galactic’s tight breaks will provide ample opportunity to get on down. Plus their live show is evidently quite a party. Opening is acclaimed neo-soul-hopper Ohmega Watts. —Christopher Hontos

    8 p.m., The Cabooze, 917 Cedar Ave., Minneapolis; 612-338-6425; $22.

    FILM
    Cinema Lounge Sells Out

    It’s time for another Cinema Lounge, and as usual, this one promised to be quite interesting – that is, if you like mocking commercial work — and who doesn’t? Tonight’s films are primarily spoofs, which ought to be quite amusing; but a few real pieces are tossed in just to frighten us a bit (actually, this will include entries from the Grain Belt Beer commercial competition, which should also be quite amusing). Stop by. Have a beer (or the tuna tataki). Have a laugh. Watch shorts by Idiot Box, Ryan Strandjorn, Jon Springer, Dave Ash, Dreamworld Studios, and Todd Cobery. And then meet the artists in person, ask them questions, and hear them talk about their work. You know the drill.

    7 p.m., Bryant Lake Bowl, 810 West Lake St., Minneapolis; 612-825-8949; free (but I’m guessing donations are more than welcome.

     

  • The Syringa Tree: Strange Magic

    Every morning, I get up all bleary and I pour my coffee and I sit down with my laptop and I tell my little stories. Character, plot, narrative, theme. I think I have a handle on these things. Most days, I feel competent.

    Then I read or see something like The Syringa Tree, which is playing at the Jungle Theater until March 9, and everything I know about how to construct a story seems hopelessly naive.

    Here’s the thing. I know beginning, middle, and end. I understand the journey, the epic, the Once Upon a Time. . . . and Happily Ever After motif.
    What I do not get is how playwright Pamela Gien took shreds of dialogue
    and monologue and memory and wove them all together into a sparkling web of a tale that spans 30 years and includes the politics of
    apartheid, the complicated allegiances of a liberal white South African family, and
    the shame that comes to those — both white and black — who feel
    responsible for the vicious acts of their kind.

    This is a one-woman show in which one actor (Sarah Agnew at the Jungle) plays 22 different characters — ranging from a six-year-old named Elizabeth Grace to a Catholic priest to Zephyr, a 60-year-old Zulu gardener — using nothing but the pitch of her voice, accents, facial expressions, and body language. She turns ever so slightly to one side, straightens her spine, and suddenly becomes someone else. Never do you wonder whether she is the child or the mother, the white doctor of the black maid. Agnew’s body is like liquid on the stage. She skips, weeps, cowers, and grieves. There is a world of people within this single small form.

    Watch in particular for the scene that takes place in a car — which does
    not, of course, actually exist. There are three people in the invisible
    vehicle: Elizabeth, her mother, Eugenie, and a driver. And Agnew moves
    in a continuous circle playing them all, carrying on a conversation
    with herself, until you could swear there actually are three people on
    the stage.

    No less is this alchemy present in the set. There is only a bare stage with a large swing hanging from the rafters, a backdrop cracked with sky-colored hues: pink, yellow, and blue for daytime; gold and green for dusk; shadows with slats of light. A man is beaten, a little girl watches in fear. It all happens before your eyes though of course, there is nothing there, really. Somehow, this amazing play makes you conjure the hat-sized blooming jacarandas and sly Rhodesian freedom fighters all on your own.

    How is this done? I only wish I knew. I feel as if I need to get ahold of a copy of the play and shake it until the secret falls out.

    Part of it must have to do with Joel Sass’s brilliant direction. It is worth noting that Sarah Agnew — who is luminous in this performance (or these performances, as the case may be) — also played Margaret in the Guthrie’s recent production of The Home Place. And though Star Tribune theater critic Graydon Royce singled her out as the "most satisfying" among a muddled cast, I, frankly, was hard pressed to see it. There, she faded. Here, in Syringa Tree, she is mesmerizing. But so too is the careful attention to movement, to her position on the stage, to the carefully choregraphed glances she casts to indicate action in another plane.

    It is only partly coincidence that I followed this magnificent evening at the theater, a mere 90+ minutes that seemed to go by in half the time, with a South African pinotage.

    In truth, I’ve always wanted to like South African wines. I like the idea of South African wines. But sadly, I’ve never tasted one that turned me on. Then, I found out there’s a Minneapolis company called Etica distibuting only Fair Trade winemakers — those that ensure workers are paid a livable wage, pay producers a premium for their products, adhere to eco-friendly methods, and re-invest in the local communities where there wine is made — and one of their top offerings right now is the 2006 Goue Vallei Pinotage.

    Pinotage is the principal grape in South African winemaking. A combination of Pinot Noir and Cinsaut, it has a distinctly dirty taste. I don’t mean earthy, peaty, or rich with soil. I mean old ashtray with a hint of green banana peel.

    But after becoming entranced by The Syringa Tree, I figured I was in as hospitable a mood as possible. So I opened the Goue Vallei and gave it a try. Perhaps it was due to Gien’s work and the memory of Agnew on her swing, but I can safely say this is the best inexpensive Pinotage I recall. It is dirty, but not intensely so. There’s a robust layer of fruit, cherry with a whiff of something tropical, and a rutting goat-ish finish that lingers for quite a while.

    I find it strange that this wine has no more in common with a French Pinot Noir than it does, say, with an egg salad sandwich. It’s not for refined sipping and it’s probably best drunk with plenty of sinewy dark meat, such as elk or deer. But it is — like the play — an interesting and entirely different experience. Plus, it’s probably the most humane and ecologically-responsible way to drink, right down to the bottle’s synthetic cork.

    If you want to try a glass, it’s on the menu at Birchwood Cafe, The Sample Room, Via, and, of all places, Green Mill. For a complete list of local retailers carrying Etica wines, click here.

    But here’s my advice: First, you should call The Jungle to reserve your tickets to Syringa Tree.

  • Text Your Tuna

    If you’re one of those people who is annoyed by restaurant texters, thumbs madly pumping away on their phone while they ignore the others at their table, relax. They may be saving the ocean.

    The Blue Ocean Institute has launched FishPhone the first sustainable seafood text messaging service. Embracing technology, Blue Ocean understands where the important decisions are made: in front of the menu. How often, when you’re in the whirl of a spectacular evening out, can you recall the specifics of your eco-training? Especially with seafood, a vast arena of eating that fluctuates with seasons and trends. No one can memorize the status of the thousands of sea critters.

    Enter the text. Simply send a text to 30644 with the message FISH followed by the name of the species you’d like to research. They’ll send you a text back with that species status: Green, Yellow, or Red.

    I sent FISH lingcod and received this: caught off US West Coast (YELLOW) some environmental concerns; bottom trawling damages habitat; HEALTH ADVISORY: High Mercury. … at this point I might choose to find out if the restaurant knows how the fish was caught, many chefs won’t buy anything trawl caught.

    When I tried to check out branzino: Sorry, we haven’t reviewed that species yet. Be sure to check spelling. We continually add species to our database so check back often! … Branzino is actually just the Italian name for European Sea Bass which is pretty common and well-regulated.

    For monkfish: (YELLOW) some environmental concerns; try US farmed catfish, US farmed rainbow trout, or US farmed tilapia instead … I like the recommendations, but you’re out of luck if they’re not offered on the menu.

    Additionally, for those with web-enabled devices, you can download Blue Ocean’s Guide to Ocean Friendly Seafood from fishphone.org.

  • No Surprise Here, UnitedHealth Rides Again

    It’s not any surprise to those who’ve followed the sordid history of UnitedHealth Group to see that the company is being sued by the Attorney General of New York for manipulating the reimbursement rates for their insured who go outside of the network for their care.

    It seems United reimburses its customers based on a formula which calculates the "customary" charges for services in the New York area. Of course, the "customary" charges are calculated by a third party. In this case a company called Ingenix, which happens to be owned by UnitedHealth.

    An investigation by the state showed that a "customary" charge for a doctor visit in New York City was $200. Ingenix said it was $77. I don’t know if any of you have been to the doctor lately, but the charge in Minneapolis passed $77 quite some time ago. I’m fairly certain that I read somewhere that New York is more expensive to live in than Minneapolis.

    As NY Attorney General Andrew Cuomo said, “We believe there was an industrywide scheme perpetuated by some of the
    nation’s largest health insurers to deceive and defraud consumers.”

    Ya think?

     

  • The Three Pointer: Better Than Philly

    Copyright 2008 NBAE (Photo by David Sherman/NBAE via Getty Images)


    Game #52, Home Game #27: Philadelphia 88, Minnesota 104

    Season record: 11-41

    1. Spread the Credit

    It’s been a habit of these three-pointers to isolate players for individual praise or criticism, rearranging members of the roster like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle that someday will yield a different and more pleasing picture than the one who entered the All Star break losing more than four games for every one it won. But tonight’s convincing triumph over a Philadelphia 76ers team that had won five straight is most accurately seen as a blended team effort, the type of performance that most satisfies coaches and front office personnel.

    The Wolves’ outscored Philly in all four quarters, beating back a series of runs and challenges in the process. Seven of the nine players who participated–and all seven of those who logged over 20 minutes of playing time–scored in double figures. Only Antoine Walker, who played but 8:05, failed to record a positive in the plus/minus figures. Especially in the first half, the Wolves both moved the ball and moved without the ball, generating offense that was generous, dynamic, and visually pleasing. They were far better mentally and physically prepared than their opponent for their first game in nearly a week, roaring out to a 17-8 lead in the first 6:14 mostly by grabbing 12 of the game’s first 14 rebounds and proving themselves to be the more alert and energetic team.

    Within this team game, two early matchups deserve special mention. Perhaps no foe has frustrated Jefferson more than Samuel Dalembert the first time these teams played, with Big Al suffering five blocks, including a game-tying attempt in the final seconds. This time, Jefferson wasn’t lunched once en route to 9-14 FG. And at the other end, Jefferson totally stymied his taller but more listless opponent. At the half, Dalembert had two points and a rebound in 13:13 versus Jefferson’s 10 and 8 in 16:22. Jefferson’s shot wasn’t falling, but four offensive board produced a pair of putbacks that boosted his percentage (he was 5-9 FG in the first half). He added three more offensive rebounds in the second half and grabbed 14 overall versus 9 for Dalembert. Best of all, weaknesses in his game are slowly but fairly surely being caulked. His "show" on the pick and roll actually had some resonance for the dribbler, and he wasn’t as casual about getting back either.

    But the real eye-opener was a trio of interior passes down toward the hoop from a spot in the middle of the post. Because Jefferson has expanded his range enough to hit that 12-15 footer, the double-team–or at least an opponent’s attention–will be drawn. Tonight he shoveled one pass that Craig Smith finished, went over the top to find Rashad McCants in traffic beneath the hoop, and had another nifty feed come to naught due to a missed layup. His total of 3 assists could have been double that had his teammates converted, or if he needed to log more than just 2:22 in the 4th quarter.

    The other honorable mention goes to Corey Brewer’s defense on Philly’s leading scorer, Andre Iguodala. The 6-6 swingman was clearly bothered by Brewer’s length and tenacity, missing all four of his shots before Brewer picked up his second foul with 3:01 to play in the first and headed for the bench. On the other side of the ball, Brewer remains a disaster–his lone basket in 8 attempts came on a transition layup off a steal. Yes, he takes "good shots," and I suppose one should applaud his confidence in continuing to try and keep opposing defenses honest. But they simply don’t fall–long in the first half, woefully short on his first attempt of the 3rd period–and defenses cheat dishonestly away from him anyway, and will until his finds the range.

    But here’s why Brewer deserves kudos instead of brickbats for this game: While scoring just that lone bucket on five attempts in the first period, the rook also grabbed six rebounds, dished for two dimes, and sank a pair of free throws. Meanwhile, he held Iguodala to a pair of free throw attempts (one made), no baskets, two rebounds and an assist in that first period. When your rookie is getting the better of your opponent’s top point producer, the chances of winning skyrocket. Brewer wasn’t flashy about it–his blanket on Iguodala was most apparent after he sat and Iguodala suddenly was shooting jumpers without a hand in his face (McCants and Ryan Gomes were his other defenders). He *was* flashy coming out of nowhere to foul fellow rook Thaddeus Young in mid-slam well above the hoop in the third quarter, however. Bottom line, if Brewer is one of the top two (or perhaps even three) guys in your pecking order, your team isn’t likely to go far in the playoffs. On the other hand, most playoff-caliber teams have a Brewer-like presence in their lineup: An energy guy with glue-like attributes. And he’s going to get better.

     

    2. Bassy Hangs In

    Randy Foye finally received his first start of the season tonight, but in a bit of an upset, it was at the shooting guard slot. This move is a victory for common sense over face-saving draft politics. If Foye isn’t a point guard, then the Wolves likely erred in swapping him for Brandon Roy (certainly the injury history argument hasn’t panned out thus far for Foye’s defenders). Well, Foye *isn’t* a point guard–they are sent from God, as Stephon Marbury once said, and isn’t that ironic in retrospect–but force-feeding him at that spot to make sure was the kind of butt-covering logic I anticipated. Instead, Wittman and company are properly impressed with Bassy’s gaudy assist to turnover ratio; after preaching the value of reducing turnovers with numbing frequency, Wittman would have demonstrated blatant hypocrisy by lifting him for a unbalanced combo guy whose miscues outnumber his dimes.

    Fifty-two games into this season, Telfair is the Wolves player who has most aggressively seized this campaign by the throat, not so much surpassing the low expectations his previous play had engendered as lapping them, stoking his energy and intelligence in the process. In the past 30 games or so, Telfair has finally learned how to do more than simply turn the key in the offense and try to steer the wheel. He’s discovered how to regulate pace with the throttle and the brake, how to draw and kick, how to make opponents cover him because of his dribble penetration or initial probes in the modified fast break where the Wolves may or may not have the numbers. He’s still small, of course, and despite tonight’s 3-4 FG, his shooting continues to be a relatively wretched adventure. But when he’s paired with Jaric or Foye or McCants in the backcourt, there’s no longer much doubt that he’s the floor general.

    By the numbers, Foye had perhaps his best game thus far: 13 points, five assists and one lone turnover. But he did jack up 15 shots (making six), including a half-dosen treys (converting one), and he’s been a sub-mediocre defender all year. Tonight, Andre Miller posted him up a couple of times for easy baskets on the way to a 15-point half that kept Philly in the game (Miller didn’t score in the second half, however.) Of even greater concern, Philly was the second straight opponent to deploy a full-court press when Foye was the primary point guard, and Wittman quickly had Telfair up and ready to go back in after the court-length disruption cut into the Wolves lead.

    Foye’s confidence, like Brewer’s, remainsa little higher than reality might warrant. Asked about his defense tonight, he boasted about clamping down on Willie Green (who *was* held to 6 points on 3-10 FG) instead of Miller’s early post-ups or some garbage time matador maneuvers. It is reminiscent of his claim about being best suited for the point. And maybe after he regains full range of
    that knee and fills his head with another thousand or so minutes at the point, he’ll become more of a savior than a sabatoeur at the position. But Wittman revealed after tonight’s game that he’ll continue to experiment with the Telfair-Foye backcourt allignment for a while longer to see how well they stir up sparks.

    3. Cuban’s Kidd

    About three weeks ago when I was catching a Mavs game on League Pass, a television poll showed Dallas fans believing that Devin Harris was the team MVP at that time. Now not only Harris but the Mavs’ best legit big man in Dasanga Diop are heading to New Jersey to finally trigger the trade for Jason Kidd. It’s a bad deal for Dallas on a number of levels: The fans clearly appreciated Harris, who destroyed the Wolves with dribble penetration the first two times the teams met in Dallas earlier this year. Kidd has slipped defensively, and will have difficulty with the Nash-Williams-Paul-Parker quartet, who figure to be among his opposing matchups in the playoffs. Losing Diop means Erick Dampier will be the default man in the pivot when the Mavs need to match up with lengthy ballclubs. Then there is the small matter of two first round draft picks. And three million bucks.

    I’ll be shocked if both Dallas and Phoenix make it out of the first round of this year’s playoffs.

  • Let It Loose, Let It All Come Down: A Very Sad Business All Around

    Some mysterious combination of failing light, and the smell of an unrecognized plant bring back to some men the sense of childhood, and of future hope; and to others the sense of something which has been lost and nearly forgotten.

    –Graham Greene, The Honorary Counsul

    What we cannot think, we cannot think; we cannot therefore say what we cannot think.

    –Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus

    When not engaged in warfare they spend a certain amount of time at hunting, but much more in idleness, thinking of nothing else but sleeping and eating. For the boldest and most warlike men have no regular employment; the care of house, home, and fields being left to the women, old men, and weaklings of the the family. In thus dawdling away their time they show a strange inconsistency –at one and the same time loving indolence and hating peace.

    –Tacitus, Germania

    The place was perpetually murky, either sticky-hot and prone to tantrums, or inhospitably cold and overcast. Clouds would roll in and set up shop for months at a time, casting a disorienting pall over the days, a permanent crepuscle that made it easy to lose track of time.

    In the warm months, between spasms of rain, the little town would bake and be congested with dust kicked up by the slow, ceaseless procession of late-model European and American cars, bicycles, and carts dragged through the dust by old women and children on their way to the crowded markets.

    The town was surrounded by thick woods that rolled steadily upward toward the mountains that were overgrown with lush, almost tropical greenery. These mountains were said to be populated by ancient tribes of warring giants and trolls.

    For almost a century the population of giants was alleged to have been in alarming decline, a decline that was attributed to environmental factors and a mysterious crisis of infertility. For generations the giants had subsisted on wild hogs and the young and elderly trolls they were able to steal from their rival tribe.

    Over the years, however, the trolls had become masters of stealth, cunning, and deception, and had adapted to the once frequent incursions of the giants by moving underground, where they had excavated a complex network of tunnels and subterranean villages. They also became quite expert in creating traps for the giants. These traps were huge bunkers that the trolls would cover with brush and bait with a howling child or pig. One giant, thus captured, could feed one hundred trolls for a month.

    Eventually, the combination of these various factors led to the wholesale eradication of the giants, and the trolls had the complete run of the place. They moved above ground, started to read the Bible, and built unsightly compounds comprised of little but poorly-made mansions, town homes, and strip malls.The trolls, it was said, were indiscriminate breeders, and they rapidly accumulated great wealth and power.They were known to comport themselves with a strange combination of indolence, aggression, and arrogance. The natives of the village grew to regard them with fear and loathing, until one day a band of brazen local youths, armed with nothing but stones, mounted a series of attacks that razed entire neighborhoods, killed hundreds of trolls, and drove the remainder of the crass little bastards back underground.

  • All the News That Fits—and Then Some

    There’s an awful lot of talk about the news lately, but not, unfortunately, the sort of constructive conversation that promotes critical thinking and engages people with their neighborhoods, their country, or their world. No, what people are talking about is the media, or, more specifically, and more onerously, the business of media. The Star Tribune is losing readers, pages, and staff. (Did that venture-capital firm buy it just for its prime downtown real estate?) The Pioneer Press is facing the same challenges, and rumors have been circulating for over a year that it will cease to exist altogether. The corporate hijacking of local “alt weekly” City Pages seems finally to have succeeded, at least in a manner of speaking. (New Times indeed—just who the hell is this Hoffman character, anyway?) And it’s not just with these outlets. Almost everywhere you turn the quality of news is being questioned as resources and profits continue to dwindle. It’s just too expensive, it seems, to chase meaningful stories these days, and the competition has never been fiercer for advertising dollars.

    Enter the internet, the longtime boogeyman and sworn enemy of print media everywhere. As it turns out, it just might be the best tool any news reporter, storyteller, or publisher ever dreamed of. With more than half the U.S. now online—and two-thirds of them getting their news online—the web is suddenly a sexy proposition for all sorts of formerly hidebound print junkies. The venture capitalists are intrigued as well—you’d have to suppose that in a recessive industry, not having to pay for ink, paper, press operators, and distribution would bode well for the bottom line.

    And so, with (undoubtedly) noble thoughts and high aspirations, many Twin Cities newsies have been turning to the web as a panacea for a host of the ailments currently bedeviling the news media. Former Strib publisher and editor Joel Kramer got the attention of media insiders across the country when he launched MinnPost, his long-anticipated online news site, in November. At about the same time, erstwhile City Pages editor Steve Perry debuted his own site, The Daily Mole, which he mothballed last month after a frustrating three-month run; now he is taking the reins at the Minnesota Monitor. Perry’s new employer, like a number of other local sites (including Twin Cities Daily Planet, the Minnesota Monitor, Cursor, and MNSpeak), had been up and running on the web long before that pair of high-profile upstarts made their splash at the tail end of 2007.

    It turns out that the web, with its atmosphere of almost unbridled democracy (a sort of anarchic egalitarian free-for-all, if such a thing is possible), has breathed new life into the moribund American Dream. Freedom of speech. Free exchange of ideas. Anybody can play. People with a little bit (or a lot) of hubris can barge their way online and plant their flags. Every citizen (or non-) can put his (or her) voice out there. And anyone can hit the jackpot, which is, of course, measured in mouse clicks. (You can be sure even the gal blogging about what she had for breakfast is watching her numbers.) In the online world, clicks mean dollars.

    The trouble, of course, comes in setting up a new online economy. How many clicks for how many dollars? What’s the rate of exchange? In a world where Britney has been the top search term for six of the past seven years, and where information is expected to be free, how can anyone make news financially viable?


    Making a play with traditional journalism

    Determined to uphold professional distinction above all else (presumed translation: no Britney stories), Joel Kramer latched on to a stable of reporters cast off in the recent newsroom purges on both sides of the river and set out to create a quality local news source. With the exception of a few videos and slideshows, MinnPost’s editorial model is little more than traditional newspaper journalism distributed online (in fact, until a few weeks ago, Kramer insisted on distributing fifteen-hundred Xeroxed printouts for those committed to words on paper).

    While web-based businesses across the globe save on rent by having staff work from home, Kramer resists this as well. He is proud of MinnPost’s old-school newsroom, which features open space to encourage dialogue, an office for the business staff, and conference rooms and workstations around the perimeter. Just as newspaper reporters rush to meet an evening deadline, MinnPost contributors—drawn from a pool of fifty-six freelancers—submit stories each morning so that web editor Corey Anderson can post them online at 11 a.m. This also runs counter to standard web protocol, where news is live twenty-four-hours and reporters bypass editors by posting their stories directly on the website. “Our goal is not to exploit the web,” explained Kramer, “but to provide quality journalism.”

    Can MinnPost make profitable use of an online medium without fully engaging its resources? Nora Paul, Director of the Institute for New Media Studies at the U of M, says no. “[Kramer] hasn’t embraced what’s interesting about online,” she argued, “which is the ability to create packages with a shelf-life, and that will have utility for a long time.” According to Paul, online news organizations need to find new and compelling ways to tell stories, and develop creative ways to pull together data. While most local online news sources have not availed themselves of Paul’s expertise, newspapers across the country are turning to her for the winning formula. Last month, eleven top newspapers, including The New York Times and the Washington Post, met with Paul (and five graduate students) to formulate questions they want answered about offering news on the web. What’s the best way to display video? Do news crawlers attract more clicks than breaking news digests? What’s the most engaging way to tell a story?

    Above all, the web offers flexibility. “Online, the walls should be much more porous,” explained Paul, “so that you have an evolving story-telling space.” In other words, there’s no excuse for anything static. Online news is more a process than a product; it’s created through interaction and various points of view, so stories build up almost organically, with varied perspectives, in varied forms, from varied arenas. Ideally, the end result is a much broader picture, and arguably a more compelling story than we’ve been reading on paper for centuries.

  • With Liberty and Luxury for All

    Luxury is big business these days, and not just because the world of the rich is more prosperous and populous than ever. The rest of us are also becoming avid consumers of goods and services that were once exclusive to the super-wealthy. Obviously your definition of “luxury” depends on where you reside on the economic food chain—there’s a difference, for instance, between a Dior T-shirt purchased at an outlet and an invitation to a Dior couture show. For some folks luxury might be a pair of Godiva truffles, nestled in a tiny gold box and purchased on a whim at Southdale; for others, a $4,000-a-night, two-story hotel penthouse with a baby grand piano.

    Such lodgings are now available in downtown Minneapolis, at the brand-new Hotel Ivy, ballyhooed as the Twin Cities’ first five-star luxury hotel. The saga of the tiny Ivy Tower is by now familiar: Long vacant, the 1930 landmark was destined for a meeting with the wrecking ball, but saved at the last minute by savvy developers. They made the idiosyncratic, vaguely Moorish building the centerpiece of a complex that includes a 136-room hotel, a 17,000-square-foot spa and fitness center, and ninety-two condominiums, almost all of which, remarkably, have sold.

    Curious about what exactly it means to be the Cities’ first five-star luxury hotel (and what that coveted and somewhat mysterious designation signifies), I interviewed the Ivy’s general manager, Alister Glen, who graciously made time while in the midst of hiring staff and other harried preparations for the opening last month. The Ivy is part of Starwood Hotels and Resorts’s “Luxury Collection,” a franchise of fifty-some hotels and resorts around the world. (Starwood also owns the Westin, W, and Sheraton chains, among others.) Despite this pedigree, Glen made it clear that the Hotel Ivy would appeal “to all spectrums of the market”—that is, it would even welcome those who indulge in discount Dior and Godiva two-packs.

    “I don’t want people to feel like ‘We’re going to have to mortgage our house to even go in there,’ ” he said. “Is it luxurious? Yes. Does it have the kind of rooms and feel that we haven’t seen in Minneapolis? Yes. But are we setting it up to be a bunch of snooty people with attitude? No. No matter who walks through that door, they’ll be treated like they’re staying in the hotel. Maybe you won’t be able to stay in a hotel room, but you’ll definitely be able to have a drink in the bar or a cup of coffee in the lounge.”

    Glen’s open-arms approach gets at a tricky aspect of peddling “luxury” in the current market. You can’t be snooty and uptight—or perhaps, more to the point, you can’t afford to be. Thus the emergence of terms like “casual luxe” and “universally likable luxury”; the latter was used last year in a Wall Street Journal article about an ad campaign for Lincoln, the idea being to establish Ford’s high-end automobiles as an “approachable brand” distinct from “old world” luxury or “money-is-everything” luxury.

    Why be so adamantly democratic about luxury? One thing to consider is how much of the wealth among the upper-income elite is newly minted, and how many of its holders will eschew old standards of luxury—say, the Saint Paul Hotel—and defect to the Hotel Ivy.

    Another, perhaps more important factor to consider: the rest of us. Those who aren’t wealthy can ride along, to some degree, on the coattails of those who are. In “The Snob Within,” an article that appeared last year in the Boston Globe, Don Aucoin noted the original definition of “snob”: one who aspires to membership in a class above his own. In our growing fondness for five-dollar coffees, one-hundred-dollar facials, and thousand dollar “it” bags, he observed that middle-class people are taking cues from the rich instead of fomenting class war against them. As the income gap grows ever larger, it’s as if some of the middle class—or many, really—are looking to make the leap to the expanding yet still tiny ranks of the elite.

    However unlikely their chances of success in that endeavor, these strivers make for a huge market, and in an era of growth-at-all-costs global capitalism, why wouldn’t purveyors of luxury seek to exploit them? Hotels, for instance, generate considerable revenue outside of renting rooms; to maximize profits the Hotel Ivy needs to welcome locals for coffee, cocktails, or a spare-no-expense dinner. Its spa needs loyal customers, as do its meeting and banquet facilities—especially as it’s moving into an increasingly crowded “new luxury” market that includes the Graves 601 and the Chambers, and later this year, the W Minneapolis at the Foshay.

    As luxury-for-all goes, high-end hotels are distinct from goods like couture, cars, or mansions. A hotel is a place where you can experience a posh lifestyle without a long-term investment of cash. Regular folks will be tolerated—or even, as Glen insists, welcomed. “New luxury” hotels are one of a dwindling number of places that serve both the rich and those who enjoy rubbing elbows with them. Elite night clubs used to have the same function: In the heyday of Studio 54, street kids and hustlers could mingle with socialites, as long as they were good-looking, enterprising, or just plain interesting (even freakish). But as a recent story in New York magazine complained, with VIP everything and de rigueur “bottle service,” the top nightclubs have become the exclusive province of rich kids with platinum cards and assholes partying on expense accounts.

    Glen is an affable, thirtyish native of South Africa, and prior to coming onboard at the Ivy he was a manager at Barnsley Gardens, a luxury resort outside Atlanta. I noticed during our interview that he was wearing a Polo sweater—a perfect “new luxury” symbol. It’s well-known that Ralph Lauren grew up Jewish in the Bronx—which perhaps made him the perfect interpreter of wealthy WASP lifestyles. The designer is a great pretender, and so are his legions of fans around the globe, whether they buy Polo as part of “the ultimate retail experience” at the Rhinelander Mansion flagship on Madison Avenue or forage for it in a bin at Costco.