Art, Friends, Food, Drink

I spent tonight walking from art to art, from food to food, from friend to friend — the midpoint of an art week.

DAI Postcard Image

I started at the Arrowhead Biennial, at the Duluth Art Institute. The show was celebrated in the DNT with a photo of Rob Adams‘ work in the show — the touch-free art dispenser.


I know it takes an army to make something like this happen, but the part of the army I saw was my colleague Dana Mattice, who is doing amazing work making the DAI even more of a presence in the arts in Duluth than it already had been — and that is saying something.

Walking the show was Ashley Kolka, the grants manager of the Arrowhead Regional Arts Council, Kenneth Marunowski, local painter, Ed Newman, arts columnist and fiction writer, Sarah LaChance Adams, philosopher, Claire Kirch, author… what a crowd at both the DAI and the companion show at North Shore Bank of Commerce. The Bank hosted an amazing collection of art as well, I might add, as the tastiest chocolates I have had all year.

As I walked home, I stopped by the Wolf/Flow exhibit at the Zeitgeist. Still worth a view.

Wolf/Flow is, like the Arrowhead Story event at the Red Herring on Wednesday, both moving and beautiful. Ken M. live-painted at the event (see below), hosted by Amy Waugh.

Most significant for me, LadySlipper performed. They are mesmerizing to watch, to be clear, but as a man who weeps when he hears the tango, the music to which they dance, with its mournful sound… oh, my god. I melt.

amy ken m

Prove Opening Friday. See you there?


[email protected]

about 9 years ago

Can anyone familiar with Ladyslipper tell me about that music?


about 9 years ago

Dave, your artistic trials in the city of Duluth are always like this grand humano ejaculatory epoch fable. What you get into in one night, future legends will not be able to tell in one sitting. Let me tell you of my last two evenings. 

Last night, I went to Chester creek and skied a bunch of nice lines amidst scads of puffy snowflakes. I only crashed once. There was nobody there. I threw a nice round pebble out of the way, wondering how it became dislodged from its resting place, and took a piss. It was beautiful. The night I mean. It always amazes me,that in the only real place to recreate near the center of what amounts to a six figure city, when I have the whole place to myself, the sheer odds it takes for nobody else to be there, out of 100,000 people, or 395 million for that matter. The amount of times I randomly crossed paths with Sarah Krueger between 2011-2012 is 2374 % less likely than the 87,000 other citizens of Duluth not showing up, and made not running into her there last night an astounding oddity by itself. 

Then tonight, I went to Brighton Beach with the same story to tell. I've never seen the place this desolate. In one hour, a minivan passes by plus one pedestrian. Maybe it was Charlie Parr? Not. The lake looks dark, cold, and deadly. The lift bridge like that star wars toy Prizblowski mentioned. It amazes me again how much little weather it takes to confine the whole fucking city indoors, even and especially the chief of police. I think of all the young ladies in this well-lit section of town laying on their well-lit beds, scantily clad and texting some worthless bullshit they'll not remember in three minutes, let alone the rest of the world, leaving out most of the ones in Papa New Guinea. All this to me is living art, yet it requires and contains no living artists. It's almost like nature is art. And art or life or nature, is one giant crusher. There is a certain beauty in pitch black and 20 degrees F reminding me of some lesser known Star Trek episode from 1968, and I'm the only dude out there to prove it, moving ahead so life won't pass me by. Please mentally proof read this shit I just wrote because I'm too drunk and tired to care, rather the computer has been drinking.

[email protected]

about 9 years ago

Herzog:  The story I never tell on Perfect Duluth Day, that I want to tell because you told yours, is the story of how many nights, after I walk from event to event downtown, I hop in  the car I rent on weekends (I don't own a car;  I just rent one once in a while to travel to the Cities and such) at drive late at night to Stoney Point.

Why Stoney Point?   Because the drive there is desolate.  It is almost always just me on the road.  And because if I park just right, I can sit in a way that I cannot see any of the lights at all from Canal Park or the city.   It is the darkest place I know to go.

When I sit there, usually shivering, in the darkest place I know, my ears fill with the sound of the water.  It's difficult to explain how different the experience is, after a night of art and lights and people, to live for a little while that way.  How essential that can be to me.

I'll be honest:  I go to these things, I write about these things, because I love every one of the people and events I write about.  I value what them.  I am happier living in a city with people who pursue their passions and make something creative from those passions.  I want them to know that they are appreciated, and I want others to appreciate their work in the future.

But when I am done, I want to be alone.  I often need to be alone.  And I am so very very grateful that the city of Duluth gives me places to be alone.  I used to drive to the top of Hawk Ridge for this experience -- but then you are just above the cacophony.  I sometimes, when the temp is below zero, drive to Two Harbors.  The highway becomes my away space.  But when the weather and the mood is right, I always choose Stoney Point.  At Stoney Point, the cacophony recedes and my mind and heart fill differently.

Thank you for letting me write about this.

Claire Kirch

about 9 years ago

The art show at the bank is absolutely incredible. I highly recommend it and am proud that I stash my millions there, that is a great community-minded bank.


about 9 years ago

God bless this forum.


about 9 years ago

That's really cool rhetoric guy.  You and I are tighter now.  Here I was prepared to retort how my comment wasn't sexist because scantily clad ladies was my dream and they exist somewhere if not everywhere, and how as a guy I don't care to mention naked men, but now I won't bother. In short, I tried to bait Claire but it didn't work.  I love Stoney Point, don't get up there enough, and that is a good sanctioned use of your rental car IMO, and good on ya for not having a car anyway.  I've had a lot of amazing moments there. One that came to mind recently was last winter probably around Jan, there was a day of thaw and it was around that time we stopped there coming from just north of, landing  in a spot wondering where we were and lo, it was SP, and the sky blue ice sheets were stacked up, words cannot describe. Kinda made me think of Superman's home.  I tried to tell my neighbor to head out there, but I don't think he listened. 

 I've seen people surfing ten footers on SP in Oct looked like Maui.  Anyway, I digress.  I appreciate you appreciating art, and appreciate the artists in the world and Duluth. We would be truly fucked ala Bush Iraq 2003 were it not for artists and women.  That super detailed art exhibit at Prove from Maine a couple months ago was awesome.  Lived here over six years now and just discovered all the amazing rural landscapes to the north.  So I really appreciate what you said about balancing out your evenings with the silence of the lake. Keep on keeping on dude.


about 9 years ago

I also wanted to mention that the night you posted this, I was really inspired by Mike Simonson's stellar rebroadcast of the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald.  It really put me in that place of how real, raw, and cold it would've felt the moment they realized how absolutely fucked they were. RIP

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