Walker Art Center

I rarely wander to the Walker Art Center. I'm much closer to the MIA and the MIA's perpetual free-ness tends to win out over the Walker when I'm itching for visual inspiration.  But I'm trying to take advantage of the Walker's free first Saturdays more often and the promise of jewelry artists selling pretty things this Saturday was the added oomph I needed to get me there.

My knowledge of art largely hits a wall around the 1940s or so. Before that, I'm likely to stumble upon pieces, movements, and artists I recognize. There's a familiarity with Impressionism, Dadaism, Cubism that lends itself to comfort, largely because these are the movements I remember from my liberal arts education. After WWII, however, I'm in a maze of stimuli that require constant reference to the explanations on the wall.  This doesn't bother me.  In fact, it's probably why I find modern art infinitely more fascinating than prior periods.  The ingenuity and irreverence, not to mention the scope and sheer size of some works, tends to stop me in my tracks.  There are pieces that resonate immediately, and pieces that even upon reading the artist's intent, I still struggle to "get" on any level. But that's what makes the wandering worthwhile. Inspiration mixed with confusion is not a bad state of being for a lazy Saturday afternoon.

The Walker is free the first Saturday of the month and Thursday evenings. Take a wander!

Follow me on Twitter @TheMinneapolite

More Real at the MIA

The power of an exhibition, whether it be artistic, theatrical, musical, or literary, resonates with me when I'm surprised by its influence days/weeks/years later. Entertainment is one thing, beauty another, but influence is elusive. The More Real exhibition at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts has influenced my days, the way I think, and I'm not sure there's higher praise for a Saturday afternoon experience. That influence is probably fleeting, soon to be shuffled behind future experiences, but for now, it's the mental nugget my brain is gnawing on. 

The leaflet floating around for the show uses a quote from Time, "Art Lies. that's one of the things it does best. And if it does it right, it points to some kind of truth every time." Walking through the exhibition, the patron is struck by one "kind of truth" after another.  Early on, one experiences Ai Weiwei's "Colored Vases" as a powerful example of that question of veracity. Are the vases really priceless, ancient works? Are they fakes? Surely he would not destroy a treasure of antiquity...surely not...

I was impacted by the pieces most when I stood at a distance first.  We were told upon entering the exhibit that we should make sure and read the didactics on the wall.  Important, to be sure. But part of the power of these works is in recognizing how your first impression surfaces, and what it takes to dissuade you of that impression. 

The work that has stuck with me, however, as a work by Iris Haussler, and I struggle with giving away too much because I don't want to rob anyone else of my surprise.  Because it's a fascinating surprise. Instead of speaking too much about the particular installation piece, I'll link to the artist's wikipedia page. Suffice it to say, I left the museum believing a story that was not true.  And it was a story that stuck with me, tragic and beautiful and powerful.  It was only upon googling around for more background on that tragic story that I discovered I'd been duped, expertly so. And I just keep coming back to that moment of realization and what it says about our ease in believing what is written, what sounds plausible.  And a story so intricate and beautiful in its sadness, just seems like it should exist. I remain fascinated by that story, but even more fascinated by the mind that created it.  Because most people will not google the way I did, they'll forget the work. They'll incorporate that story as truth into an experience they had at a museum.  They may even tell friends bits and pieces of that story, that lovely lie.  So there is "truth" by individual definition floating around out there that is 100% false. And my own truth is hobbled together by wikipedia, not necessarily the hallmark of veracity. Just fascinating. 

I'll have to go back, of course, to revisit the space of my manipulation, and to dig deeper into what it means to be a fact and what it takes to dissuade us of the facts to which we cling. 

The More Real exhibit is open for your own curiosity and exploration through June 9.  It's worth the $14 price tag, or make sure and check it out on a Third Thursday, when the exhibit is free!

Follow me on Twitter @TheMinneapolite

Third Thursday at MIA

What is not to love about Third Thursday? Art, adult beverages, interesting humans, local music? The Minneapolis Institue of the Arts really has hit on a groovy little heartbeat of Minneapolis art-and-music-and-all-things-nifty with its monthly get together.

This month saw Paper Darts, a local lit/art mag, hosting a series of Choose Your Own Adventure stories by local authors. We scavenged about, following the teenage dramatics in The Ts, traipsing from one room to another, stopping to admire creations that struck our fancy. Bowen's new "Underwater" was a particular favorite.

My comrade and I also took part in the crafty color-your-part-of-the-exquisite-corpse project. As evidenced by our offerings, we are writers, not artistes.

A great evening, a great crowd, and an awesome way to experience area creativity, literary/musical/artistic, mere minutes from my front door.

Thank you, MIA! I will definitely put all Third Thursdays on my calendar!

Follow me on Twitter @TheMinneapolite

Rembrandt at the MIA

The MIA has to be one of my favorite things about living where I do, not only in South Minneapolis itself, but simply in the Twin Cities.  To have such a collection of art provided free to the public is such a cultural blessing, I feel almost guilty for not going more often.

The Rembrandt in America exhibit, though not free, is worth every penny of its $12 pricetag. If you've got a handy-dandy smartphone you can avoid the $4 charge for the audio tour and listen to the tour via the MIA wifi. It's a great system, a wonderful guided tour, and the paintings are a treasure.

The tour provided wonderful background into life in Amsterdam while Rembrandt was painting, the master's life and loves and the heartbreak both brought him, and the fascinating development of understanding which paintings were actual Rembrandts and which were pieces bearing his name as master of his studio.  I also found the histories given on ownership of the paintings very interesting and it led me to wonder what it is about this painter in particular that people find so enthralling.  His Lucretia (pictured) is what answered the question for me.  Rembrandt perfectly (perfectly!) captured Lucretia's shame, innocence, and heartbreak in a few spare tears pooling in her eyes.  And having learned the personal significance of the painting, the heartache is all the more touching.  Rembrandt's gift must be seen to be fully appreciated, so take advantage while you can!  While Lucretia is a permanent fixture at the MIA, her beauty and significance are better experienced when surrounded by many of Rembrandt's other masterpieces.

The exhibit continues through September 16.

Follow all my ramblings in the Cities on Twitter @TheMinneapolite.

The Bakken Museum

I work in the energy field, so let me provide that disclaimer up front.  Electricity, to me, is not just sparkly and helpful, it pays my salary and energizes (ha!) my brain. I've spent the last four+ years building a stockpile of worthwhile and worthless anecdotes about electrons and their sometimes problematic transport across transmission lines, their sometimes worrisome generation, and their always interesting journey from point A to point B (source and sink, for those of a mind to care).

I provide this background because I entered the Bakken with a well-established nerdhood on the subject of electricity and I realize that this may not be common. Might be weird.  So my joy at poking around their exhibits may be unique but given the squeals of joy coming from a range of teenagers to 6 year-old to adults (maybe myself), I don't think I was the only one who enjoyed the 2 hours tucked beside Lake Calhoun.

The museum is normally $7 for adults, which I think is reasonable and fair given the range of exhibits and uniqueness of the museum and the building it inhabits.  I lucked out on this first trip because the museum is free during the 10 days of Aquatennial.  But I would have happily spent the $7.

The museum is small but there are a number of highly interactive exhibits which I found fascinating. Brain wave battles and shock generators are always a good time.  The exhibit on powering Minnesota was also fascinating as it details how utilities marketed their newfangled technology.

The museum is open until 8 on Thursdays and while a number of people were wandering around with us, it wasn't crowded.  This also afforded a father-and-son duo to have free reign over a couple of experiments, which I imagine would be The Coolest Thing Ever for a little kid.

Highly recommended (especially if you follow your visit with a trip aroud Calhoun and supper at the Tin Fish)!