I WAS EXCITED TO SEE CRYSTAL PITE AND KIDD PIVOT’s Dark Matters at the Walker: the smooth-as-silk hyper-coordinated wonder of postmodern ballet meets the warped mirror of postmodern puppetry, all under a title that’s equal parts astronomy and goth whisper. Sexy, poetic, dark — it sounded like complete catnip. But the Canadian dance company’s work turned out otherwise. Not that Pite, the choreographer…

IN THE BACK CORNER OF THE SECOND ROOM of Alec Soth’s new show at the Walker Art Center, From Here to There, Alec Soth’s America, is a photograph that is hard not to see. It is a fat man and his wife, sitting on a couch together. They are in a kind of embrace. And they are naked in almost every way.   I know how hard this photo is to avoid — perhaps how powerful it is — because I was standing in front of it…

As a child, my father ran into open fields at the first sign of storm. Muddied grass of stickball games at his feet. He let the rain soak his clothes, his face. “I dare you,” he yelled to the sky. “Hit me.” And it does, though years later, and not in an open field but the shelter of home. I’m wondering when they will come for me, my father writes in a letter. I’ve been followed, phone-tapped, checked on by the…

I GO TO THE OPENING OF THE SOAP FACTORY gallery’s Minnesota biennial show, A Theory of Values, curated by Kris Douglas and Scott Stulen, to see what a slice of my region’s artists have been up to. The first work of art I encounter is the bottom of an upended wooden platform, its legs facing me, its sides fringed in silvery Mylar — the kind of cheesy decoration I associate with a bar stage. The top end…

A QUICK SEARCH ON THE INTERNET REVEALS COUNTLESS LISTS of the world’s great directors, screenwriters and actors, describing at length their contributions to the art of film. However, it is rare to find a similar catalog of great film producers, and nearly impossible to find a discussion about their creative input. Producers are the ones who receive the Best Picture statuette at the Oscars, and yet…

THERE IS A BAR IN NEW YORK CALLED THE EAR INN. I like it. It goes a ways back, and it reminds of my favorite bar (maybe in the world), the Clown Lounge in the basement of the Turf Club (more on that in a minute). But that Ear got me thinking. This might be the best time for the distribution of original music, ever. Artists are no longer dependent on the patronage of nobles, the control of radio, or the…

WHEN ARTISTS DREAM OF SUCCESS, they probably dream of showing at the Walker, the Met, the Tate, Musée National d’Art Moderne — not the java joint down the street. But on the road to the big-time, those little coffeehouse shows can be important stops along the way, providing a safe platform for artists to practice the tricks of their trade: how to produce enough work for a show, create a cohesive…

THE IVEY AWARDS ARE A PRETTY LAVISH AFFAIR — this year they were held at the luxurious State Theater in downtown Minneapolis, where a red carpet awaited guests, who were photographed by a throng of paparazzi as they entered. I have it on good authority that at least a few of those paparazzi were hired actors, but what does that matter? This is theater we are discussing, after all - such things are all…

JULIE BUFFALOHEAD’S NEW PAINTINGS AT THE BOCKLEY GALLERY seem charming at first. They don’t losetheir charm upon closer examination, but their disguised powers become evident. Fairly small works on paper (22” x 30”), the paintings are collaged. Small figures —  drawn and painted with acrylic with a slightly crude edge, cut out and glued down — give a crafted edge to these compositions, which are arranged on…