I’m tired
Not of summer, nor certainly of my Bifocal Fridays. Just
bone tired the last few weeks. Partly it’s getting to the age where an easy,
solid night’s sleep begins to elude me more regularly than occasionally. Partly
it’s the houseful of teenagers to simultaneously worry about and work for and enjoy.
Partly it’s a rich social life that seeds my calendar with so many joyful outings
and adventures, some of them more joyful and more late-night than I can sustain
indefinitely. Partly – and in no small part – it’s the deep troubles in the
world that seem to be washing up in a relentless rising tide that is making
everyone scared and angry and tired. And this week, too, it was partly the heat
– in the high 90s for many days running – that was weighing me down and making
me sleepy.
So when Friday afternoon rolled around, I came home at noon,
took off my damn bifocals, and promptly slept for a solid three hours. I didn’t
regret a minute of it.
Seeing nature
It was a beautiful show that lived up to MIA’s promise (and it
will be be on view until September 18 if you want to see for yourself):
“Spanning 400 years, this spectacular exhibition illuminates the
rich and varied approaches in European and American art to the landscape genre.
Featuring 39 landscape paintings drawn from the private collection of
Microsoft co-founder and philanthropist Paul G. Allen, including masterworks by
Claude Monet, Gustav Klimt, David Hockney, Edward Hopper, and Georgia O’Keeffe.
Lovers of of French Impressionism and Neo-Impressionism will
find these styles well represented.”
It’s hard to imagine one person actually owning all those
paintings, and I’m struck by the “one-percenter” aspect of that – and Paul
Allen is probably even in a much smaller fraction of a percent than that. With
a net worth of $15.8 billion, the most recent Forbes 400 Rich List puts
him at the 26th wealthiest person in the United States. Whether you
envy or despise or admire somebody with that kind of money -- or Paul Allen himself,
specifically -- you have to admit that the guy (and undoubtedly his curator)
has great taste in art. And if you’re anything like me, you probably have to
feel some sense of gratefulness and joy that someone is able and willing to
acquire and preserve and most importantly share this treasure with other
people.
Two of my favorites: Klimt's White Birches and Monet's En Paysage dans L'ile Saint-Martin
Speaking of sharing art
with the world
I have to back up a minute. On our way to the MIA, we
stopped downtown to see a personal friend who has shared an incredible body of
work with the world, though his means are much more modest.
Drew first introduced me to Daniel Corrigan when we had him
over for dinner and a game night. We’re all avid Scrabble players, and we now play
Scrabble online together regularly, and see each other occasionally at one
event or another.
Corrigan
is the
longtime staff photographer for First Avenue, the iconic Minneapolis rock club.
For decades he shot pretty much every act to come through the doors, including legendary
local bands like Babes in Toyland, Husker Du, the Replacements, and none other
than Prince himself. He captured them all with a style that is equal parts
gritty, raw, and tender. In recent years, Dan has been the subject of a
Pitchfork documentary, as well as
the
Minnesota Original series.
His work will be highlighted in the book
Heydey: 35 Years of Minneapolis Music, coming out this November from Minnesota Historical Society Press.
In recent years, Dan has morphed into a role maintaining the
First Avenue facility, that deliciously dingy place we all love so much. He is
still frequently found behind the camera, though. On this particular Friday, it
was his birthday, and he was giving his friends a gift. He had extended an invitation for any of us to come down to First Avenue and have our picture
taken.
We parked downtown at the old Dayton’s ramp – I can’t think
of it any other way – and stopped in at Candy Land to buy him a box of mixed
treats for his birthday. Braving the hot-town-summer-in-the-city pavement temps,
we crossed Hennepin to meet Dan at the Depot Tavern. The Depot is next door
to the First Avenue/7th Street Entry clubs, and owned by same. In
its previous incarnation, First Avenue was an art deco style Greyhound Bus station
built in 1937 and called The Depot.
Dan’s photos line the wall of the Depot, and we found him at
one of the back booths, quietly welcoming us in his sweet, low-key way. He led us through the back
storage room and into the service garage where he had a stool and a fan set up
against the concrete walls. I could imagine the hubub of all the bands that had
pulled into that space to unload their gear over the years since First Avenue
opened in 1970.
But in fact, I didn’t have to imagine very hard, because all
of a sudden a musician friend of ours came running up to give me a
hug. Olivia Quintanilla is a super-talented young cellist who is currently playing
with
Useful Jenkins, a contemporary acoustic
band with a bluegrass foundation. Tonight Olivia just happened to be making her
debut appearance playing the First Avenue main room. That’s totally a bucket-list thing for any Minneapolis
musician, as she reiterated to me with an excitement that was tinged with a
little exhaustion, coming to the night as she and the band were from a long
series of road gigs. Although we couldn’t make it back to the show that
evening, it was sweet to see her and I know they rocked the house.
And of course, Dan rocked the photos.

Wrapping up the afternoon
with Nighthawks
After our shoot with Dan and the MIA show, Drew and I stopped at
Nighthawks Diner & Bar at Nicollet and 37
th for a happy hour
nosh. Among the many great places along "Eat Street," Nighthawks is one of the best lately. I
had a crazy good chicken and pork belly slider, and Drew had this super amazing foot-long
hot dog.

Back home for the rest of the evening, I may have even
gotten a good night’s sleep.