Modern/Contemporary art is kind of my thing, so I was greatly looking forward to visiting the Walker Art Center during my first ever visit to Minneapolis. (I’ve already blogged about the Minneapolis Institute of Art.) The Walker is one of the five most visited art museums of its kind in the United States, and it has 65,000 square feet of exhibition space, and displays about 15,500 works at any given time.
One of the first works Dear Husband and I encountered was Don’t Look Back by Fiona Banner. It’s her description, from memory, of D.A. Pennebaker’s celebrated rockumentary film Don’t Look Back, 1967, about American singer Bob Dylan’s first British tour in 1965.
It makes for a quite fascinating story, so it appealed to my story-loving nature. It takes you back to 1965, and makes you feel as though you are on tour with Dylan. It’s time and cultural travel at its best.
Here’s much of what the panel says. (I say “much of” because I used Google Photos’ “copy text from image” feature, and apparently some portions of my photo were a bit indecipherable, so there are a few gaps in continuity. My apologies in advance. And if you don’t have the time/desire to read it, please scroll past it. There’s a lot more to this blog post!)
HE'S STANDING THERE, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FALLING APART STREET, THERE'S RUBBLE EVERYWHERE AND A GUY WITH A BIG BEARD AT THE SIDE, COULD BE GINSBERG, DOING NOTHING, HE STARES OUT THROUGH THE FRONT CARELESSLY, AND THE SONG COMES OUT OVER EVERYTHING, BUT HE'S NOT SINGING IT, JONNIE'S IN THE BASEMENT THINKING ABOUT THE GOVERNMENT... HE LETS THE CARDS DROP IN SYNC WITH THE WORDS, BASEMENT, GOVERNMENT, OCCASIONALLY LOOKING DOWN TO CHECK THAT THEY FALL IN TIME, WHICH THEY DON'T REALLY BUT HE DOESN'T CARE. THE WORDS ARE WRITTEN BY HAND, IN LONG TAPERED LETTERS. HE LETS THE LAST ONE DROP, THAT'S ALL, THE MUSIC ENDS AND HE WALKS OFF LIKE HE WAS NEVER EVEN THERE, LEAVING THE EMPTY STREET AND THE BEARDED GUY THERE CLEARING IT UP.THEY'RE WALKING ACROSS THE BRIDGE AT HEATHROW AND IT'S DARK OUTSIDE, BUT VERY BRIGHT IN. EVERYTHING IS ECHOEY AND THEY START SINGING LONDON BRIDGE HAS FALLEN DOWN FALLEN DOWN FALLEN DOWN. BOB'S CARRYING A HUGE LIGHT BULB. THEY GET TO THE BARRIER AND THERE ARE A LOAD OF FANS AND PHOTOGRAPHERS PRESSING IN, ONE ASKS HIM WHAT'S DIFFERENT ABOUT THE TRIP THIS TIME, BOB REPEATS, THIS TIME? AND THEY SAY YEA THIS TIME YOUR BIG. HE SAYS I AM? AND LAUGHS A BIT. HE'S BACK STAGE AND ITS REALLY DINGY, JUST EVERYONE FIDGETING AND HIM PACING BACK AND FORWARDS, SAYING HAS ANY ONE SEEN MY CANE, WHERE'S MY CANE? THE WORDS ECHO ACROSS THE ROOM. GROSSMAN AT THE FRONT, PRETENDS TO BE LOOKING, BUT ISN'T REALLY DOING ANYTHING. DYLAN EMERGES SAYING I'VE GOT IT, IT WAS IN THE CUPBOARD. HE WALKS BACK WITH THE CANE. THEN HE'S ON STAGE, STANDING IN A LONG POOL OF LIGHT, EVERYTHING ELSE IS DARK, HE'S SINGING, AND HIS VOICE SOUNDS VERY STILL, IN THE DIMES STORES AND BUS STATIONS PEOPLE TALK OVER SITUATIONS SEE THE WRITING ON THE WALL BUT MY LOVE SHE... AT THE FRONT OF THE ROOM FLASH BULBS GO OFF. THE JOURNALISTS SIT IN ROWS IN FRONT, WITH NOTE BOOKS POISED. SOMEONE ASKS HIM IF HE THINKS THE YOUNG PEOPLE REALLY HEAR HIS MESSAGE, REALLY UNDERSTAND IT, I THINK HE SAYS SURE THEY DO. IT'S A WOMAN WITH A FRINGE LEANS IN FROM THE SIDE AND ASKS HIM IF HE'S EVER READ THE BIBLE, SHE'S ASKING HIM SHYLY, FROM BEHIND HER HAND, LIKE SHE'S ASKING SECRETLY, FLIRTING, HE WHISPERS BACK NO, IT'S LIKE THERE'S NO ONE ELSE IN THE ROOM, SHE SAYS WELL YOU SHOULD! SOMEONE ELSE ASKS AND HE ANSWERS IN A WORD THERE'S ANOTHER QUESTION, I THINK ITS TO NEUWORTH IN THE FRONT ROW, HE SAYING WE AIN'T NO FOLK, SUDDENLY ITS OVER, I THINK BOB GETS BORED AND CLOSES IT DOWN HE'S SITTING ON THE SOFA, LEGS CROSSED, IN A HOTEL, THE GUY COMES AND SITS NEXT TO HIM. HE SAYS HE'S FROM THE RADIO, FROM THE AFRICAN SERVICE, HE'S TALKING TO DYLAN LIKE HE'S A KID, BUT RESPECTFULLY. HE'S GOT ALL THIS EQUIPMENT AND THE GUY INTRODUCE HIM, AND SO AND EVERYTHING SWERVES AROUND AND ITS VERY LIGHT, DYLAN'S LEANING AGEXPLAINS THAT HE'S UNINGTON TO THE SUN STREAMING ONTO HIS ARM AS IT STRUMS THE GUITAR, WEARING THEN HE SAYS SO TELL ME HOW IT ALL BEGAN JEANS, LOOKING TEN YEARS YOUNGER STANDING IN THE CORNFIELD. HE'S SINGING A BALLAD, THE TIMES THEY ARE A CHANGING MAYBE. THE BLACK GUYS FADED, LOOK BACK AT HIM LIKE THEY KNOW IT, THEY'RE WEARING DUNGAREES, BOB'S IN A CHECKED SHIRT, THE HEAT, EVERYTHING FADES, THEN HE'S STANDING ON STAGE FACING THE HUGE INVISIBLE AUDITORIUM, HE'S SO SMALL IN THE POOL OF LIGHT, BUT HE'S THE ONLY THING, APART FROM THE MILLION EYES. HE'S SINGING, THE HARMONICA HIDES HIS MOUTH, HE RUNS HIS LIPS ALONG IT, KISSING ITS SPINE AND BLOWING AT THE SAME TIME. NEUWORTH AND DYLAN STAND THERE CLICKING IN TIME SHOO BEED 000 STYLE WITH THE DIRE JAZZ, THEY'RE AT THE BACK OF A CROWD, BUT STILL IN IT, HAMMING IT UP, ONE OF THEM'S HOLDING A NEWSPAPER THERE'S SOME ARTICLE ABOUT DONOVAN. SHE'S THERE TOO, SALLY GROSSMAN, BUT YOU ONLY HALF SEE HER, THEY'RE WEARING THE SAME RAYBANS, EVEN SALLY, SHE'S DANCING OUT OF THE FRAME. GROSSMAN'S THERE, SOMEONE SAYS TO HIM, WE WOULD LIKE TO PRESENT BOB DYLAN WITH THE AWARD FOR BEST UP AND COMING JAZZ MUSICIAN, DYLAN SCOFFS FROM BEHIND AND SAYS, TELL HIM TO GIVE IT TO DONOVAN. HAHA. THEY'RE IN THE HOTEL ROOM, JOAN'S ON THE SOFA, A FLASH GOES OFF. THEN SHE HOLDS HER HAIR AND STARTS MAKING FACES TO THE CAMERA, WRINKLING UP HER NOSE LIKE A RABBIT, SHE SAYS SOMETHING IN A FAKE ENGLISH ACCENT AND THE PHOTOGRAPHER ASKS HER NAME, SHE SAYS JOAN BAEZ, HE SAYS HOW DO YOU SPELL THAT, SHE SPELLS IT, BAEZ AND HE STATS TAKING IT DOWN IN HIS NOTE BOOK, THEN SAYS OH I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T RECOGNISE YOU, BUT I DON'T KNOW IF HE'S JOKING OR SERIOUS. BOBBY'S SNIGGERING IN THE BACKGROUND. IT'S LATER AND THE ROOM LOOKS PACKED, THOUGH THERE ARE ONLY FOUR PEOPLE THERE, IT'S PACKED WITH SMOKE. JOAN'S ON THE SOFA AGAIN, SHE'S SINGING 'LOVE IS JUST A FOUR LETTER WORD, HIGH AND CLEAR, AND GROSSMAN STARES ACROSS FROM THE OTHER SIDE, SALLY'S DANCING IN THE DOORWAY, HOLDING A ROSE. BOBBY'S BANGING SOMETHING OUT ON THE TYPEWRITER, PLAYING IT LIKE A PIANO, HE STOPS THEN JIGS HIS HEAD AROUND IN TIME WITH SOME INVISIBLE RHYTHM, THE SMOKE IS THICK ABOVE HIS HEAD. JOAN SAYS YOU MUST HAVE A MILLION ENDINGS BY NOW, HE STARTS TO SING IT OUT LOUD AND THEN SHE TAKES IT OVER, HIGHER. DYLAN SHAKES HIS HEAD, TO SAY THAT IT ISN'T THE ENDING. THEN JOAN SAYS SHE'S GOING TO TURN IN THE TOWEL AND THEY TEASE HER, SHE'S GOT THAT WHITE SCARF IN FRONT OF HER FACE, SHE STARTS DOING SOME KIND OF WEIRD DANCE, THE SCARFS FRINGE HANGS DOWN OVER HER MOUTH HER DARK DARK EYES SMILE OUT OVER THE TOP, THEY SAY YOUR DONE YOU WERE DONE BEFORE YOU WERE EVEN UNDONE OR SOMETHING, IT ISN'T FUNNY BUT THEY ALL LAUGH. THE GUY FROM THE ANIMALS ASKS DYLAN IF HE KNOWS THE SONG HE SAYS THE GUY WHO SINGS IT IS LIKE A HUMAN SLOTH, AND THEN HE DOES A WEIRD JAGGED DANCE SAYING THAT'S HOW HE DOES IT ON TOP OF THE POPS, THEY ALL SING ALONG, EVERY LITTLE THING. THEN DYLAN ASKS HIM WHY HE LEFT THE ANIMALS, I DON'T THINK HE ANSWERS, BUT HE SAYS SOMETHING ABOUT THE BAND, AND WHO IS THERE NOW INSTEAD. HE PAYS THE PIANO REALLY FAST, STANDING UP. THEN BOB GOES, IT'S TIME, HE'S ON. AND THE ANIMAL GUY IS THERE ON HIS OWN, HE OPENS A BOTTLE OF BEER USING THE PIANO KEYS, THEN SPITS IT OUT, AN INVISIBLE VOICE SAYS, GLASS? AND HE SPITS, NAH WOOD... THE ROOM IS EMPTY. BOB'S SITTING ON THE TABLE, ANOTHER H WHIFF ON THE WALL. THERE'S AN ARTICLE ABOUT DONOVAN IN THE PAPER, DONOVAN DESERTS HIS FANS IS THE HEADLINE AND A PICTURE. BOB ASKS WHAT'S HE LIKE THIS DONOVAN, THE ANIMALS GUY DRINKING BEER FROM THE BOTTLE, FRINGE FALLING IN FRONT OF HIS EYES, SAYS HE'S OK, HE'S NOT A BAD BLOAAK, IN HIS STRONG NEWCASTLE ACCENT, THEN HE ADDS DO YOU KNOW WHAT A BLOKE IS, DYLAN REPEATS THE WORD, BLLAKKE, BLOOOAAKE, BLOOACHH, LIKE HE'S PUKING OUT THE WORD. HE LAUGHS, THEY ALL DO, AND GOES OVER TO THE MIRROR LODGING THE ARTICLE BEHIND IT. BOB SAYS HE THINKS DONOVAN MUST BE A LOSER, BUT HE PUTS IT THERE ALL THE SAME. LATER IN BIRMINGHAM THERE MESSING AROUND ON A PIANO, THE GUY FROM THE ANIMALS IS PLAYING THIS TUNE, EVERY LITTLE THING THAT YOU DO... HE'S PLAYING THE NOTES REALLY FAST. A GIRL WITH SMUDGED EYES LEANS UP BY THE WALL SWIGGING BEER. OUTSIDE THE ADELPHI IN LIVERPOOL THE GIRLS LOOK UP, THEIR FACES ARE VERY CLOSE, LIKE THEY'RE WILLING SOMETHING. HE MUST APPEAR AT THE WINDOW BECAUSE THEY ALL SQUEAL AND GO CRAZY, THEN ONE OF THEM SAYS I DON'T BELIEVE IT' AND PUTS HER FACE IN HER ARM AND BENDING AWAY FROM IT ALL. THEY'RE UPSTAIRS WITH BOB NOW. SHE SAYS IT AGAIN I DON'T BELIEVE IT'. HE'S SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS FOR THEM, HE ASKS IS IT MERSEYSIDE OR MERSEAYSIDE, THEY SAY IT'S MERSEYSIDE, CAN YOU SIGN ONE FOR MY SISTER, DO YOU HAVE ANY SISTERS OR BROTHER, HE LAUGHS AND SAYS I HAVE LOADS OF THEM ALL OVER THE PLACE. THE ONE WITH THE WHITE FACE IS SO CLOSE AND WIDE EYED, SHE KEEPS TURNING AWAY AND THEN BACK TO CHECK THAT IT IS REALLY HIM. THERE, IN THE ROOM WITH HER, IN THE ADELPHI HOTEL. ONE OF THEM ASKS WHY HE HAS ALL THE BAND NOW, IT SOUNDS LIKE A SEND UP, THEY SAY, HE'S BETTER ON HIS OWN, BOB JUST HALF LAUGHS AND SAYS LOOK AROUND, THEY AREN'T SURE. WHEN HE GOES ON IT'S SO QUIET, HE STARTS SINGING, AND HIS FRIENDS, AREN'T THEY, THEY CAN'T BEGRUDGE HIM THAT NOW CAN THEY. THE GIRLS HE'S GOTO GIVE HIS FRIEND A JOB NOW HASN'T HE AND ALL THOSE GUYS IN THE BAND ARE STRUMMING STRAIGHT OFF, THERE NO GUITAR TILL HE SINGS AND NO SONG WITHOUT THE GUITAR, 'HEY MISTER PLAY A SONG FOR ME IN THE...' BUT EVEN THE APPLAUSE IS MUTED, THEN YOU SEE THEM ALL BACK STAGE, BEHIND THE HUGE CURTAIN PANICKING, SOMEONE KEEPS SAYING SOMETHING ABOUT A LEAD, THE LEAD ISN'T PLUGGED IN, YOU CAN SEE DYLAN TO THE SIDE OFF THE CURTAIN THEN SOMEONE FINDS IT AND PLUGS IT IN AND THERE'S SOUND, BUT DYLAN CARRIES ON NOT TRIPPING A SECOND, THE AUDIENCE ROARS, DYLAN'S HAIR LOOKS ELECTRIC IN THE SPOT LIGHT. AFTER THERE'S SOMEONE IN A PHONE BOX, HE LOOKS PACKED IN THERE, IN SUCH A TREMBLING RUSH READING OUT FROM HIS BOOK LIKE A SCRIPT, BOB DYLAN SINGS.ALL THIS STUFF TO THE SHADOW EYED PALE FACED TEENAGE FANS, BUT ARE THEY LISTENING, THE WORDS ARE MADE EMPTY ETC, SOMETHING ABOUT SINGING OR SERMONISING-HE GOES ON. HE KEEPS SAYING STOP AFTER EVERYTHING. HE'S SMOKING.THE PHONE BOX IS FILLING UP WITH SMOKE. HE HANGS ONTO THAT PENCIL. NO VOICE COMES BACK. HE'S WEARING A RAINCOAT. THEY RUSH THROUGH THE BACK CORRIDORS IT'S BLACK AND EVERYTHING'S JAGGING OUT OF FOCUS IN THE RUSH. THEIR FEET SWERVING ON THE STONE FLOOR AS THEY PILE DOWN THE STAIRS IS CLOSE AND THEY'RE BREATHING FRANTICALLY, EVERYTHING CHANGES, THEY FALL OUT INTO THE DARK NIGHT AND STRAIGHT INTO A CAR THERE WAITING, THE FANS ARE THERE JUST A SMATTERING, BUT THEY'RE GOING TO TOUCH HIM FOR SURE. IT GETS EVEN MORE FRANTIC THEN SOMEHOW THE DOOR IS SHUT. THEY DRIVE OFF, THERE'S SOMEONE ON THE CAR BOB KEEPS SHOUTING, THERE'S A GIRL ON THE CAR, GET THE GIRL OFF THE CAR. GET HER OFF. THE CAR ARCS ROUND AND THE LIGHTS STREAK IN THE BLACK, THEN YOU SEE THE PERSON RUNNING ROUND, CIRC CAN'T SEE EITHER OF THEM, THEY'RE SINGING AND PLAYING TOGETHER, THE DUSTY SUN COMES IN FROM THE WINDOW, I'VE NEVER HEARD THE SONG SINCE AT THE PIANO, ITS SO DARK THE CAR, AND HE SAYS BYE BYE, TO HER, LIKE THAT, BYE BYE', I THINK THEY LAUGH, EVERYONE IS RELIEVED. HE'S IN ANOTHER ROOM, HE'S SITTING IT'S VERY QUIET, LIKE A LOVE SONG, THERE ISN'T AN ENDING EITHER. THEY'RE IN A CAR. THERE'S SOME STUFF ABOUT BOB IN THE PAPER, HE READS IT OUT. HA! THE GRAVEL VOICED DYLAN, THEY PASS A POSTER ADVERTISING THE GIG ON SATURDAY NIGHT DAY, SOMETHING LIKE THAT. HE LAUGHS, A HUNDRED A DAY, DRAWING ON HIS CIGARETTE, 'GOD I'M GLAD I'M NOT ME. WHO SMOKES A HUNDRED CIGARETTES A DAY ARRIVED IN LONDON SOLD OUT SLASHED ACROSS THE FRONT. THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT JESUS, PERHAPS THE GIG IS AT JESUS HALL. JOAN'S IN THE BACK, SLOWLY PEELING A BANANA NOT REALLY LISTENING TO ANYTHING SHE SINGS, CRYING LIKE A BANANA IN THE SUN. SHE'S WEARING A BIG BRIMMED COWBOY HAT NOBODY LOOKS AROUND AND NOR DOES SHE. BEFORE THE GIG THEY'RE IN THE HOTEL ROOM AND JOAN IS THERE TOO, THEY'RE WANDERING DOING NOTHING ITCHING, HAVING A BLOW HERE AND A STRUM THERE, SHE STARTS SINGING THIS IS THE NIGHT, IN A REALLY HIGH PITCH, SO HIGH YOU CAN HARDLY HEAR THE WORDS, THIS IS THE NIGHT WHOAAA, OOOH', THEY COVER THEIR EARS AND ROLL THEIR EYES LIKE THEY CAN'T TAKE IT, SHE PUSHES IT EVEN HIGHER AND THE WINDOWS TREMBLE. THEN DYLAN AND NEUWORTH ARE OUT IN A DIFFERENT ROOM, OVER IN THE CORNER, THERE ARE A BUNCH OF BLOKES CROWDED ROUND THEM, ONE OF THEM WEARING A FLAT BEATLES HAT, IS SAYING, ITS JUST THAT WE REALLY LIKE WHAT YOU DO-DON'T GET US WRONG. I THINK THEY SAY THEY JUST WANT MORE PEOPLE TO HEAR THE WORDS.THEY'RE A DYLAN TRIBUTE BAND, BOB DOESN'T REAEN. THEY'RE ALL SITTING AROUND IN A BIGGER KNOW HOW TO REACT, HE JUST SAYS UHHH, YOU SHOULD LET ME KNOW NEXT TIME YOU PLAY AND I'LL COME ALONG, THEY ALL NOD AND SAY YEA SURE, BUT YOU KNOW IT WON'T ROOM, IT'S LATE AND HOT WITH SMOKE, THE ROOMS A MESS, PEOPLE SITTING EVERYWHERE THERE'S ONLY ABOUT ONE CHAIR, PEOPLE MOSTLY SITTING ON THE FLOOR, BOTTLES ALL OVER THE PLACE. OUTSIDE IS THE THE HOTEL MANAGER AND A BELL BOY GROSSMAN LOOKS ABSURD IN THE HARSH LIGHT, HE'S SOUNDING OFF, WHAT DO YOU MEAN, I'M BOB DYLAN'S MANAGER, I CAN'T SPEAK FOR BOB DYLAN. THEY SAY WE ARE GOING IN AND MAKE FOR THE DOOR, GROSSMAN EXPLODES, THAT ROOM BELONGS TO BOB DYLAN, WE HAVE VERY IMPORTANT EQUIPMENT IN THERE. YOU CAN NOT GO IN THERE, HE STANDS IN THE WAY AND BARS THEM, THEN BOB IS THERE SMIRKING QUIETLY IN THE BACKGROUND, GROSSMAN STORMS OFF SAYING, YOU ARE THE MOST STUPIDEST PERSON I HAVE EVER MET, TO THE MANAGER, THEN DYLAN IS IN THE ROOM AGAIN, HE'S GOING ROUND SAYING WHO THREW THE GLASS, WHO THREW THE GLASS I WANT TO KNOW. EVERYONE IS EMBARRASSED AND QUIETLY LOOKING ACROSS TO EACH OTHER LIKE THEY ALL DID IT. BOB IS ANGRY LIKE A TEENAGER, BUT ONLY IN THAT MOMENT, YOU CAN TELL ITS BECAUSE OF THE BOOZE. IT'S AS IF THERE'S A FIGHT BREWING IN THERE, EVERYONES HIGH AND THE ROOMS SO CROWDED. THEN HE GOES OVER TO SOMEONE, IT COULD BE THAT ANIMAL AND HE SAYS, YOU THREW IT, JUST ADMIT IT, WHY WON'T YOU JUST ADMIT IT, SOME ONE STANDS UP, LEAVES AND DYLAN WANDER'S BACK ROUND THE ROOM, SOMEONE SAYS HI TO HIM, FROM DOWN ON THE FLOOR, HE HIM OFF, MAN, THEY JUST KEEP SAYING, HEY MAN. THE GUY, HE ACCUSED HE SHAKES HIS HAND, HI I'M JACK, HE SAYS.THERE'S SOME CHAT. JACK SAYS WE SHOULD MEET, I COULD TURN YOU ONTO SOME THINGS. BOB GOES ROUND SAYING SORRY TO THEM ALL. SOMEONE SAYS SOMETHING ABOUT THE BATHROOM. THE HOUSE LIGHTS ARE UP, HE LOOKS ACROSS THE STAGE AND OUT INTO THE EMPTY HOUSE, THIS PLACE IS BIG GEE IT REALLY IS BIG, HE'S ON HIS OWN, BUT YOU KNOW SOMEONE'S LISTENING FROM THE SIDE I THINK THEY CALL SOMETHING BACK TO HIM. HE TRAMPS ACROSS THE WHOLE STAGE. THE WORDS ECHO IN THE EMPTY SPACE. EVERYONE PRESSES AGAINST THE DOORS AT THE ALBERT HALL, THE CROWD GETS BIGGER ALL THE TIME, HE SLOWLY PINS BACK ONE OF THE DOORS AND THE CROWD SURGES IN, THEY TRAMPLE ACROSS THE AUDITORIUM, IN FRONT TO THE STAGE AND SIT OR STAND. BEHIND IN THE DARK ROOM THERE'S A ROLL AND A BOTTLE OF BEER ON THE BENCH. HE PACES UP AND DOWN, TESTING HIS HARMONICA. HE CAN'T FIND THE RIGHT ONE, GROSSMAN'S LOOKING ROUND FOR THE RIGHT ONE, HE FINDS ANOTHER DYLAN GIVES IT A BLOW, PLAYS A FEW NOTES ON THE PIANO AND KEYS IT UP, OR TRIES TO, GROSSMAN SAYS IS IT OK, HE SAYS, IT'LL DO ITS JUST A BUMMER THAT'S ALL, ITS ALLLRIGHT. THEY'RE ALL SORRY, THE LAST YOU SEE OF HIM IS HIS BACK AS HE DISAPPEARS THROUGH THE DOOR. ON STAGE HE LOOKS WHITE AND SO SMALL, JUST HIS GUITAR AND HARMONICA AND HIS CLEAR BLEAK VOICE IN ALL THAT DARK. I CANT REMEMBER WHAT HE SINGS, THE WORDS ALL COME OUT AFTER EACH OTHER THEN HE BLOWS ALL UP AND DOWN THE HARMONICA, BREATHING THROUGH IT. HE STOPS IN THE MIDDLE OF A SONG A DOES A LITTLE RIFF ABOUT DONOVAN, I OPENED THE CLOSET AND DONOVAN WAS THERE, HA, HE LAUGHS THE LAST WORDS OUT, ITS FUNNY FOR NO REASON, THEY LOVE IT, EVERYBODY LAUGHS AND HE STARTS SINGING AGAIN. AFTER THEY'RE IN THE CAR, ITS SORT OF QUIET IN THE CAR, THEY'RE TIRED AND HIGH AND HE SAYS THAT WAS A GOOD GIG TO HIMSELF SOMEONE ELSE IS SAYING YEA THEY WERE ALL THERE MAN THE BEATLES, THE QUEEN! DYLAN'S STILL LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOW, IT'S DARK, HE REPEATS, GEE THAT WAS A GOOD GIG, I THINK THAT WAS A REALLY GOOD CONCERT, THEN GROSSMAN'S READING SOMETHING IN THE PAPER, HE STARTS SAYING IT OUT LOUD, THEY'RE CALLING YOU AN ANARCHIST, BOB LOOKS ACROSS AT HIM, AN ANARCHIST, HUH, A COMMUNIST OK, BUT AN ANARCHIST! HE SCOFFS, A MINUTE PASSES, HE LOOKS OUT OF THE WINDOW, THEN HE HALF TURNS AND SAYS, UHH, GIVE THE ANARCHIST A CIGARETTE, THEY DRIVE INTO THE SHINY ROAD.
That was a great introduction to the gallery. From there I came across this painting by Georgia O’Keefe, but it’s nothing like the flowing, organic style that I’ve come to expect from her. Still, it is intriguing and mysterious.
Here are a few other pieces on display, including a video of a rather creepy yet delightful kinetic work of art. I hope these give you an idea how eclectic this gallery is. It’s well worth the visit. 700,000 visitors a year can’t be wrong.
During our visit, they featured a major exhibition (which will continue through September 3, 2023) by an artist named Pacita Abad. This was my first encounter with her work, and I was quite impressed with its vibrancy. Born in the Philippines, she had to leave her country in her mid-twenties to avoid political persecution during the Marcos regime. (I wonder what she’d think of the fact that the dictator’s son and namesake is now president there. There’s no way to ask her, though, because she passed away in 2004 at the age of 58.)
Abad’s work uses a variety of materials, but she is primarily known for her textiles. I particularly liked her social realist work regarding immigration. She traveled the world, picking up techniques and inspiration from various artists and cultures, and you can see that influence in this exhibit, which includes work inspired by her time in Bangladesh, the Dominican Republic, the US, Thailand, Indonesia, and Papua New Guinea, just to name a few locations. Here are some photos of the exhibit itself.
If you do visit the Walker Art Center, I urge you to brunch at the museum’s café, called Cardamom. While there, Dear Husband ordered the avocado toast and I got the French toast. When they came out, they looked like two additional works of art, so we shared them. It was a decadent indulgence after a very satisfying gallery visit.
After eating all those carbs, if you’re not too footsore from the art center and the weather is amenable, I suggest that you walk across the street and visit the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, which I blogged about previously. It would round out a perfect day in the City of Lakes.
Travel vicariously through this blog. And while you’re at it, check out my book! http://amzn.to/2mlPVh5
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