He Said/She Said: Art-A-Whirl for the new couple

Wife and I wrote this last year after Art-A-Whirl, which is going on this weekend in Minneapolis. Our dance card is full this year with Red Sox games, so we won’t be going. Maybe next year. Anyway, on with the blog…

He Said

As a recent transplant to the Twin Cities, I knew nothing about Art-A-Whirl® going into it. Wife suggested it as a fun excursion into the art scene. Consider this article the result of a lot of fumbling about and trying to get my bearings to enjoy an event that has established itself for 17 years before we came along.

With a name like Art-A-Whirl, you expect to get dizzy. We didn’t plan much for it beyond figuring out where to park and hop on a trolley. We drove through a sea of ironic hairstyles and fixed gear bikes, becoming more and more apprehensive about this experience. Were we hip enough to do this at all? Wife said she read in City Pages that what you wear to these events is important – unlike what your mother believes, this is a fashion show.

The St. Mary’s Orthodox Cathedral parking lot was so empty, we wondered if we were in the right place. We decided to check out the church, and all our pretensions about Art-A-Whirl were dashed away by good ol’ religious iconography.

Every surface in the cathedral was covered with art. The looming figure of Mary in the dome up front appeared more three dimensional the more you looked at it. Acapella hymns filled the air, and we just had to sit down and take it all in. The people at the church were very helpful in asking if we had questions and explaining some of the finer aspects of the icons surrounding us. It was a shame, but also wonderful, that this stop on the tour wasn’t more populated. It felt special.

After getting our fill of religious iconography, we went to wait for the trolley. After 15 minutes of wondering if it would ever arrive, waiting for the trolley became an existential experiment in how long we could hold out. I started to question the existence of the trolley as night approached, and what in my life led me to sit on a corner infested with ants while passing the time with the wife.

But eventually the trolley did arrive. Turned out it was on a 45 minute schedule, not the 25 we had been told online. The host was pleasant and kept things lively as the semi-paved streets jostled our fillings. We now had information booklets to start planning our trip. As it was getting late, we decided to get off at the stop marked on the map at the corner of 2^nd Street and 13^th Avenue and just walk our way back to the car with the opportunity to stop at four or five studios. The trolley driver had different designs despite what the map said, and she blew by this scheduled stop to end up at the American Craft Council. Oh well.

We entered Grain Belt Studios at 79 13^th Avenue. Before I knew it, wife was blaming me for poor planning, there were two people who appeared to be dead lying in shrouds on red sheeted beds, stringed music filled the air, and people zipped about in every direction. We were having trouble knowing where to look, and longed for the quiet rooms of the Walker where your neck isn’t fighting your swiveling head trying to figure out where your attention should be. We decided to escape for less assaulting environments.

I think it was somewhere between seeing the topless kilt-wearing guy and the young woman who passed out near Two 12 Pottery and Gift that we decided to call it a night and start fresh in the morning.

Our first stop on Saturday was the Casket Arts Building. I was apprehensive about visiting another big place with a cacophony of artists after the previous day’s experience, but the Casket Arts Building was a wonderful diversion.

What I loved about the Casket Arts Building was the segmentation. We wandered around with no idea where we had been or where we were going next, but in each room, we could focus on that room alone. Each room was tied together by a single artist’s work, or by several artists with common tastes that worked well together.

Still, after several hours of exploring the one building, we were beat. In the end, if there was one complaint about the experience, it is that there is simply too much to do and see. There’s no way one can see it all in an enjoyable manner, and it can feel like you are missing out on something around the next corner or in the next building. You can let the art overwhelm you, Whirl-style, but sooner or later, you have to accept that your mind and heart have been filled to the brim with interesting pieces and let it go. It’s nice to know that we can keep going to Art-A-Whirl for years to come and still visit new studios every time.

She said

"We love to be naked" proclaimed a sign, made of construction paper and black sharpie, scotch-taped to a wall in an artist's studio in the Casket Arts Building. This profound piece of found art defined the art-a-whirl experience for me.

I am an incredibly private person, so much so that I don't even have a Facebook page. How these artists allow thousands of strangers to tramp into their private work spaces is unfathomable to me. Seeing the artists' microwaves, chipped and stained coffee mugs next to overused, dirty coffee pots, mish-mashes of cd cases and books, and art supplies organized in a way that only the artist can understand forces the viewer to see the artist as mortal, vulnerable, and human. Art-a-whirl demonstrates to people like me, who have only seen art as separate from the artist on walls and in instillations, that art is a lifestyle, a way of life. 

In some ways, the invitation into private space makes sense.  Every day the artist exposes themselves and their vulnerability. Whether it’s a painting, a chair, a performance piece or a ring, all present the soul and humanity of their creators. 

One of the most intense invitations into a private space was the St. Mary's Orthodox Cathedral. They graciously opened their doors to have not only their artwork judged, but also, perhaps unintentionally, their faith. Two women were painting icons on either side of the church. One of the church members explained that icons are painted from dark to light, as they believe Christ brings humanity from darkness to light. Very few people were inside the church when I was there, and many people chose not to visit the Cathedral, perhaps turned off by the very idea that the Church might be prostheletizing. This was not the case, the church provided a serene, cool, and welcoming environment, and in turn, allowed viewers to judge integral pieces of their humanity, just like the more conventional artist studio.

In the end, the sheer thought of thousands of people viewing and judging my cubicle raises my blood pressure.  I have more respect for those who do more than I could ever dream about, sharing their humanity with strangers.  Loving to be naked is no simple feat.