From the museum cases at the Foshay Tower: Laurie Anders, star of the Western variety show “The Ken Murray Show,” when she served as the Aquatennial Grand Marshal in 1951; her co-star Bob Gross appears with her. I was intrigued with this picture when I first ran across it in 2004; no names were provided, though the location was obvious. A story came out of it, though not the real story, of course.
A year ago today, we were at the airport in Portland, Maine, dealing with a delayed flight; we arrived in Chicago at around midnight and slogged to a hotel that seemed to be located somewhere in Iowa, based on the length of our shuttle ride. It wasn’t until the next morning, when we were using our hotel-supplied toothbrushes and re-packing our carry-on, that we learned of the 35W bridge collapse.
Since then, the boys have been obsessed with bridges: types of bridges, construction methods of bridges, and why bridges fail. For a couple months they were concerned about the safety of the bridges we take every day, particularly the Lake Street and Ford Avenue bridges over the Mississippi. The 35W bridge was familiar to us–it was the way we would go to get to the Target in Northeast, while the Midway store was closed for remodelling–and its collapse was just too close.
At the end of June, we took the tour of the bridge construction. This was before “the gap” was closed, when you could still see between the spans to the Stone Arch Bridge, St. Anthony Falls, and the skyline beyond–quite an impressive view.
The morning news is packed today with reflections on the bridge collapse, live from the scene; and while I’m sure the punditocracy will have lots to say today about bridges and people and the public trust, I think Mayor Rybak said it best soon after the disaster:
Our city, our state and our nation have not invested as we must in roads, bridges and transit–and our lack of investment has serious consequences. I say this as the Mayor of a city recovering from a tragedy that was not an act of God, but a failure of Man.
Once Phidias stood, with hammer in his hand,
Carving Minerva from the breathing stone,
Tracing with love the winding of a hair,
A single hair upon her head, whereon
A youth of Athens cried, “O Phidias,
Why do you dally on a hidden hair?
When she is lifted to the lofty front
Of the Parthenon, no human eye will see.”
And Phidias thundered on him: “Silence, slave:
Men will not see, but the Immortals will!”
Statue of Minerva, goddess of wisdom, at the Minneapolis Central Library.
The 2008 Million Writers Award, Jason Sanford’s Internet answer to the O. Henry Prize and suchlike, is open for nominations. Look at the rules, check out the previous years’ winners, and find something good to nominate; nominations close March 31.
When I worked downtown, about 10 years ago, this was indeed a bank: U.S. Bank, in the historic Farmers & Mechanics Bank, a classical and impressively sober place. Now it’s a restaurant in the new Westin Hotel, and from the skyway, at least, it still looks pretty impressive; I’m glad that the chandeliers and friezes have been maintained, and I liked the look of the open kitchen where the bank tellers used to be. But I was traveling through with my six-year-old assistants, and $9 for an egg salad sandwich was a bit rich for our budget.
More of the Spoonbridge. The day I was there I wasn’t the only person snapping pictures–though I didn’t see any brides or prom-goers, there were any number of touristy-types taking the perennial I’m-holding-the-cherry-in-my-fingers picture.
I’m running on auto-pilot today–we’re in Chicago for the weekend, checking out the Field Museum and the Shedd Aquarium (my four-year-olds are nerds, and I see no reason not to encourage it). So if you’ve made a comment, rest assured that I’ll respond when I return–I’m not being rude!
Yes, it’s that iconic landmark of Minneapolis–St. Mary’s Basilica. With a big metal cherry in front of it.
I’m running on auto-pilot today–we’re in Chicago for the weekend, checking out the Field Museum and the Shedd Aquarium (my four-year-olds are nerds, and I see no reason not to encourage it). So if you’ve made a comment, rest assured that I’ll respond when I return–I’m not being rude!
I’m running on auto-pilot today–we’re in Chicago for the weekend, checking out the Field Museum and the Shedd Aquarium (my four-year-olds are nerds, and I see no reason not to encourage it). So if you’ve made a comment, rest assured that I’ll respond when I return–I’m not being rude!
This past weekend I attended an in-law family event, and had to bite my tongue while listening to some Neanderthal political “discourse” on illegal immigration, Darfur, and Iraq. As noted previously, I tend to avoid political discussions, because I find that in the current climate they have a nasty viciousness that belies rational discourse. And when I’m at family events, I’d much rather play Disney Uno or Dora Memory with the kids than talk to the adults, anyway.
But then I started to think that silence may be the worst possible response in this political climate. Isn’t history full of instances where nastiness was met with silence, and nastiness won? So I’ve decided to start another weekly feature here, one that takes a politically divisive or misunderstood issue, gives it some careful consideration, and suggests some resources that people who are thoughtful and concerned might investigate. I’m not making this a “political blog” by any stretch–the main focus will still be photography and fiction–but I think I’ve got an obligation to speak my mind if I want my boys to live in a world that’s better than what we seem to be making for them.
A two-fer today, for the Tuesday’s Photos weekly challenge. This is a summer shot, of a Buddhist monk on the Stone Arch Bridge.
This photo, like liquors bar, has been named a Tuesday’s Photos Favorite! How’s that for respect? Be sure to view the other noted pictures in the Favs Archiv; great stuff.
This is a detail on the exterior of the RandTower in Minneapolis, my favorite downtown building. It’s a wonderful art deco extravaganza, built about the same time as the Foshay Tower but somehow a little classier, if shorter.
There are aviation motifs throughout the building, most notably the Oskar Hansen statue, “Wings”, in the lobby. The tower was commissioned by Rufus R. Rand, scion of the Minneapolis Gas Company and World War I pilot. These figures–wing-footed Hermes launching a biplane?–were one of my favorite sights when I worked downtown and would walk up Marquette Avenue every morning; why can’t architecture in the ‘burbs be more inspiring than concrete boxes broken up with reflective glass?
No, it’s not actually a human sacrifice to Mammon in the form of the Wells Fargo Center; this is a statue that graces the entrance to the Fifth Street Towers at 2nd Avenue and … um… Fifth Street in downtown Minneapolis.
World Pinhole Day is today, Sunday, April 30. I’ve taken a screwdriver to one of my Hawkeyes–it doesn’t really need a lens anyway–and I encourage everyone else out there to similarly mangle a camera for Sunday’s festivities. Show the world that all you need to take pictures is a box with a hole in it!
A Minneapolis photoblog without a picture of the Spoonbridge at the Walker Art Center’s sculpture garden? For shame!
I used to visit the sculpture garden occasionally when I lived in Nordeast; it was a nice summer bike ride. But then I moved to the south side, bought a house, got married, and had kids.
The day before Easter I had an unencumbered few hours while Kelly was studying and the boys were at Auntie Kathleen’s house, so I took the train downtown and hiked through Loring Park. I hadn’t been to the Walker for five years or so, and I felt like a tourist. Well, not quite as much of a tourist as the people who were posing for pictures in front of the Spoonbridge, trying to make it look like they were taking a bite out of the cherry or holding it in their fingers. Such fun. I may have some shots of the shenanigans taken with the Spotmatic; we’ll see how they come out.
This was taken with the Nomad–it’s what the cherry might have looked like if it had been built in 1951 instead of 1991.
We survived Christmas day. The model trains were, as expected, a huge hit. Peter in particular had the old transformer figured out in no time, sending the engines rattling around the loop in all directions. And the gingerbread waffles came off without a hitch.
Here’s a gaggle of kids on their way to the Marshall Field’s Cinderella display; there was much discussion about who should hold whose hand as they went past me.
Three things for which I’m grateful:
Co-workers who step up to the plate when funky stuff happens
A boss who knows when to turn a blind eye to the things that have to be done to fix the funkiness
A somewhat-blurry shot of the escalator into the menswear department at Nieman Marcus on Nicollet Mall. This is from my first roll developed in Diafine, a two-bath developer which will take a little getting used to but seems to provide good results on the cheap.
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