northern nomad

I'm back!

2008-12-13T16:11:00.006-06:00

More blogging soon. In the meantime, a couple of photographs from the wonderful Musée Mécanique in San Francisco...

more mundane moments

2006-11-29T14:15:00.000-06:00

I've been out of action for a while. Here are a few more mundane moments from around my neighborhood. I find these kinds of everyday scenes and objects, ordinary as they are, to be thoroughly interesting. When we stop and look at them, they seem to tell stories. I wonder if Mark gets much handyman work from the ad.

anti-meth poster, University Avenue bus stop

2006-10-21T12:22:00.000-05:00

2006-10-19T14:44:00.000-05:00

Tower Grocery, University Avenue, today

2006-10-19T14:41:00.000-05:00

Dinkytown, today: Art of the Can

2006-10-18T20:22:00.000-05:00

sky dramas, 7pm (near Como-Snelling).

2006-10-01T22:21:00.000-05:00

More mundane dramas from the Como-Snelling billboards.

billboard photo essay number three: ephiphanies of consumer desire

2006-09-26T15:10:00.000-05:00

The billboard's territorialization of public space for the cultivation of consumer desire rests on an increasingly pithy symbolic vernacular. The consumer is hailed as a savvy interpreter of the symbolic universe who is able to recognize and decode the barrage of images and text that circulates around us. We become putative members of consumer society via our capacity for aesthetic proficiency. We could say that we are no longer "mere" consumers but active producers of the very apparatuses that guarantee our integration into consumer culture in the first place. This billboard poster seems to suggest that a visit to the Mall of America is a cultural event akin to visiting Museum of Modern Art or the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, cultural venues whose acronyms and modish appeal the MOA evokes here.

The epiphany here is the "realization that there is a sweet sale” at the Mall of America “on your day off." Hence, we find delectable personal reward if we realize that consuming can sweeten our leisure time (which is implied to be somehow empty otherwise, much like the sky that provides the backdrop for the poster).

One has epiphanies when encountering the profound. Are we being asked to contemplate an afternoon of trudging round the Mall of America as a profound activity?

Maco Theater, Virginia, Northern Minnesota

2006-09-21T22:46:00.000-05:00

The beautiful Maco Theater in Northern Virginia up on the Iron Range. It's simply beautiful. Neon. Glass brick. Original doors. What more could you want? It was built in 1938 and originally had statues depicting Native-Americans inside. It now houses the Cornerstone Family Church. We were up there last Sunday afternoon and went inside for a look. There were some young guitar hopefuls practicing their thing on the stage. They sounded rather like Low who hail from up the road in Duluth who frequently play the Twin Cities. The doors photographed here are a little to the side of the main entrance.

signage graveyard, Virginia, northern Minnesota

2006-09-18T21:32:00.000-05:00

Coming across this signage company's yard yesterday in Virginia, a town on the Iron Range in northern Minnesota, was an odd experience. I always imagined that gas stations and other companies stripped their stores themselves when they closed down but apparently, companies like the Mesabi Sign Co. provide that service. What happens to signs when they are dismantled, I wonder? There's a certain melancholy (to use a word that others have mentioned here recently) in the way that these once powerful symbols of consumerism are stacked together, awaiting their fate. There are lots of metaphors begging discussion here but I'll resist for now. I'll write more about Virginia and share some more photographs soon, though.

rust and neon: Midtown Cleaners and Tailors

2006-09-12T00:04:00.000-05:00

This is Midtown Cleaners and Tailors on Hamline and Larpenteur. I guess the owners have no plans to spruce up this lovely sign (it's been out of order for the five years that I've lived in the neighborhood). This isn't a particularly spectacular example of snazzy signage but I like it for its simplicity. I imagine that it used to look pretty cool when it was working. The little star is nice. Come on Midtown, get it fixed and I'll bring my suit in...

some more photographs of Morecambe desolation

2006-09-03T16:22:00.000-05:00

Well, I've been a bit distracted in the last week and so my photoblogging's slowed somewhat. In the meantime, and because the Minnesota State Fair brought it to mind, here are a few more photos of Morecambe, taken when I went back there in July. Piika's pairings of poetry and photography got me thinking about the American poet, Kenneth Fearing who wrote mainly in the 1930s and 1940s. I think that Piika got me thinking about Fearing because her pairings of poetry and photography bring to mind the strong visual element of his poems. Fearng also wrote about time in an interesting way. I think that it was he who described cameras as "clocks that take pictures." That's an idea that I think really speaks to the practice of photoblogging too, what with the extremely fast process of image reproduction that tends to occur. (Ironically, my laziness this week sort of contradicts that, but even so, I think it's often the case).

There's something about Morecambe's "in-process-ness" (if you know what I mean) that makes me think of time. The town seems to be changing (mainly decaying) as time ebbs away. The last three photos suggest ongoing decay, though there are things in Morecambe (that are less evident in these photographs) that suggest rejuvenation. Then again, perhaps decay is also a kind of rejuvenation if we see Morecambe’s declining tourist trade as a metaphor for a return to its pre-tourist resort past. The first photograph (inside Brucciani's cafe on the promenade) evokes a sense of stasis for me—time has pretty much stood still there in the sense that the owners have retained the gorgeous art deco and (thankfully) resisted implementing any major modernizations. For me, the near absence of people in the photographs also evokes Morecambe's odd relation to time. These scenes look both timeless and of their contemporary moment, I think. Photographs of the promenade created between the 1910s and the 1970s generally show large crowds of holidaymakers (let’s see if I can find some old postcards soon). That was before cheap flights made it possible for holidaymakers to go to the seaside resorts of Spain and other European locales.

Anyway, enjoy the desolate, yet strangely beautiful decay of Morecambe. Let's see if I can get out and photograph some interesting moments (ha! The time thing again!) in Saint Paul or Minneapolis soon.

the night before the fair

2006-08-24T16:06:00.000-05:00

I took a walk around the state fair entrance area on Snelling last night just as it was getting dark. I wanted to see--and capture--what it looked like the night before the fair opened. I like the way that these entrance booths look without anyone inside and before the crowds arrive. Sort of ghostly. I'm going tonight for the opening with the Flaming Lips and Sonic Youth. I guess it'll look a little different then. Bring on the cheese . . .

sky words: the mundane dramas of roadside signage

2006-08-23T15:19:00.000-05:00

On the face of it many of the areas that we walk through or (more often) drive past along highways and main road intersections in America are pretty dull and uneventful places. But the more that I look around, I find these places to be full of little dramas and stories. When we see the signage that occupies much of the skyline in those spaces, we're usually confronted by a dizzying array of advertising and billboards that seek to motivate various kinds of desires and behaviors (consume this, travel there, abstain from this and so forth). But the camera lets us slice those images and words up however we please, which I think can make for some interesting re-imaginings of those spaces. I also feel a perverse pleasure in being able to disassociate words and phrases from their original contexts and intended meanings. When I look at and photograph signage this way, it makes me think of these ostensibly mundane places as eerie, sinister, even. This is especially so when it begins to get darker and the experience of walking through these areas feels a little more ominous. I'm off to the State Fair tomorrow, so hopefully I'll have some photographs of various sorts of food on a stick (covered in cheese, of course) to show and talk about soon.

under the tracks: overnight whitewash

2006-08-18T13:13:00.000-05:00

thursday . . .

friday . . .

the Midway Motel: direct color TV in every room

2006-08-16T15:26:00.000-05:00

As promised, here are a few photos of the signage at the Midway Motel, Snelling's finest (well, only, I think) motel. The neon arrow is a real peach, especially when lit up at night. I must return after dark. The use of arrows is an interesting aspect of motel and other road signage, and serves the practical purpose of enticing weary drivers in from the road. The details that the signs offer about TV are really nice. Not only do the rooms have "DIRECT TV," they also have "COLOR TV," which was no doubt a plus back in the 1970s (color TV became widely available just about then, I believe). This sign would vie with the sign at the Turf Club (which I really must get out and photograph) as the best sign in the Snelling area. As the larger "MIDWAY MOTEL" sign indicates, there are currently vacancies at the Midway. I’ve never stayed there but having popped in to use the pop machine I can report that the workers there are really nice. I've seen the "No Vacancies" sign lit up several times in the past, usually when the state fair or the retro motor festival is on.

sauntering and photoblogging: a suspicious art

2006-08-15T15:11:00.000-05:00

Meg Nakagawa's recent discussion of copyright issues around photography and the use of photographs on blogs: http://notawomanoffewwords.blogspot.com/2006/08/copyrights-pros-and-cons.html
made me reflect on something that happened to me the other week. I tend to do a lot of photography in the alleyways in my neighborhood. As visitors to my blog will see, I photograph vehicles, incinerators, old tires and whatever else I find interesting. One night last week around 7pm I was approached by someone who asked me if I lived "on the block." When I replied that I didn't, he asked whether I was "looking to move" there. When I replied that I was just passing through he looked suspiciously at me and said, "we like to find out who new people are." I told him that I'd lived in the neighborhood for several years but this didn't seem to satisfy him much. Glancing up and down at me, he walked off.

That was pretty much it. While I understand that residents have good reason for keeping an eye on unfamiliar people in the alleyway, at the same time it seems to me that there's a general suspicion of people who saunter around (that's what I tend to do) whether taking photos or not. But in my case, there was a cynicism and sarcasm in the man's words that seemed disproportionate. I think that what bugged me was the feeling that one has to have some clear, "legitimate" purpose when walking through public space in order to be perceived as unthreatening. I'm not sure whether this man saw my camera but it got me thinking about both the issue of taking photographs in public spaces and also about walking through public space to do that. I wonder if folk are more suspicious about people taking photographs these days? None of this is directly related to Meg's discussion, which concerns copyright issues more than walking through public space, but her post made me reflect on these issues. Have other photobloggers had similar (or different) experiences?

saved by the holy dollar

2006-08-15T13:50:00.000-05:00

This is the window of a Dollar Store up on Snelling near University in Saint Paul. The emphasis on the spiritual nature of the dollar--that holiest of symbols in contemporary capitalist culture, to be sure--suggests all sorts of associations between religion and consumer desire.

What does it mean to be "saved" in today's culture? Amid the relentless faith in money and commodities in capitalist culture, salvation acquires an increasingly commercial character to the point where visual spectacles depicting consumerism as a route to personal salvation are entirely in keeping with the signs and symbols that structure our everyday environments.
Taken August 11.

don't miss the bus

2006-08-14T20:27:00.000-05:00

I stumbled across this the other day. The breeze was creating a ripple effect on the poster and the sun was creating ripply reflections, (it's made out of a plasticy canvas), each of which distorted the little girl's face. It's interesting when you can get close up to posters and billboards, and here, the plastic added another level of oddness.

Anti-Meth billboards

2006-08-14T17:12:00.000-05:00

Fatale Abstraction has an interesting piece on the anti-meth ("Extreme Makeover") billboards that I talked about in my first blog piece. See her discussion here:
http://phlegmfatale.blogspot.com/
Also, take a look at her other excellent blog, Dallas Diorama, (there's a link in my links section) which contains some great photos/commentary on modern design in Dallas--including some terrific signage.

Axman Surplus: commodities collide

2006-08-14T14:36:00.000-05:00

Some scenes from the wondrous Axman Surplus, the gem of the University/Snelling area. Need some doll parts? A spare shoe? A cockpit seat? You know where to go...

solutions for modern living: Falcon Heights, 7pm

2006-08-11T21:41:00.000-05:00

color tv!

black and white tv!

your socks go in here:

you can move in now!

suburban fire truck decay part 2

2006-08-11T21:11:00.001-05:00

I returned to the suburban fire truck and got some more photos including some of the interior. The spider webs are a nice touch:

atomic incinerator

2006-08-11T20:59:00.000-05:00

More interesting objects from the local alleyways. I like this incinerator for its vaguely atomic visual connotations. It's at the back of Shanghai Market.

crime prevention billboards: aesthetic discipline?

2006-08-08T10:33:00.000-05:00

The billboard at the Como-Snelling intersection has changed now. The "life or meth" billboard has finished its run, it seems (see my first post on the blog about that poster). Now we have a billboard warning people to lock their cars as theft prevention. It's interesting: Before I started the blog the other week I hadn't noticed this emphasis on crime prevention. I wonder whether the space is rented by the police or a crime prevention organization? If so, this raises the subject of how billboards are placed/used strategically as a form of aesthetic discipline. Then again, perhaps it's coincidence and the billboard is available to companies too (I'm sure I remember seeing billboards advertising products up there at some point). If anyone has insights, I'd be interested to hear them. And, aren't most of these owned by Viacom?

cheesed up and tired

2006-08-07T21:48:00.000-05:00

More everyday objects from the Como/Snelling intersection: the "cheese rings" behind Nelson Cheese Factory.

front avenue signs

2006-08-07T21:10:00.000-05:00

So, I had a wee trawl down Front Avenue last night and snapped a few pictures of signs that I've been admiring for some time. Having included photos of Ted's and Patrick's, I felt that Half Time Rec should be included here. The Rec is a funny old place. The bocce ball in the basement is, of course, an attraction but the beer is pretty steeply priced ($4.50ish for a pint of Summit last time I was in there). Downtown prices. As I was taking some photos outside a guy popped out for a smoke and, gesturing to my camera, said, "well, I have to ask the obvious question..." "Well, I like the sign," I said. We looked at it for a minute, nodding to ourselves and then he went back inside.

Way down the other end of Front Avenue, past Dale, is Ace Radiator which has another great retro sign:
Like many of the objects included in the blog, it's the unfussy and somewhat bygone style that I find appealing here. In a world that's saturated with visual hyper-stimulus these signs feel to me like a bit of respite. They do what they need to do with no frills.

1877-Whassup (with this picture)?

2006-08-06T17:01:00.000-05:00

So, this is the only outdoor public telephone that I can find in the entire area from Snelling/Como to Larpenteur/Hamline. WTF! Reverence for the holy cellphone appears to have dulled us to the possibility that there are some people out there (myself included) who don't feel the need to be reachable during every second of our lives. Have a good look at this. In a few years you'll be hard pushed to find a phone outdoors. Just so you know (in case you ever find yourself in the neighborhood and need to use one of these old 20th century relics) this one is outside Shanghai Market at Como and Snelling.

"cleaned out my life" sale: the business of personal cleansing

2006-08-06T15:25:00.000-05:00

So, I saw this little sign on Hamline Avenue between Larpenteur and Como the other day and its emphasis on the importance of possessions to one's life caught my attention. I can't help wondering about the whole notion of "life-cleaning." It seems that we are so thoroughly immersed in our possessions that to clean out the garage, loft, bedroom (or whatever) constitutes a personal cleansing, a sort of salvation for the good consumer-subject.

Stop . . . wet your whistle at Patrick's Lounge

2006-08-06T14:38:00.000-05:00

So, here are some photos of Patrick's bar as promised. There's something about the building and its general milieu that I find intriguing. Like Ted's Bar up the road, which I discussed in a previous posting, it's to do with incongruity, I think. There it is nestled within the dull strip-mall architecture of Larpenteur Avenue. I've been in Patrick’s a lot and they seem to do a fairly good trade, though It's rarely what you would call "busy." The windows are particularly engaging. They look good at night when they're lit up, especially. The sign with the changeable text is always worth a look. They usually have something humorous up. The more that I think about it, signage (signs for businesses, billboards and so forth) are one of the most interesting aspects of the local area. I suppose it's the fact that the signs, unlike the buildings themselves, are in a constant process of change. There's a nice, old-fashioned phone booth in Patrick's that's worth a look (the sort that used to be seen in hotel lobbies) and there are some intriguing paintings in there also. One complaint, though: what happened to the old knight-suit near the back door? Anyways, go in there and have a Summit. They serve it in those wee tulip glasses. That's less than a pint but they fit nice and snug in your hand.

What sort of architecture is this? Was Patrick's Lounge a supper club back in the day? Do tell if you know. The wooden shingles and the color windows always remind me of confectionary (Hansel and Gretel?) and they also evoke a mildly church-like aesthetic. Here's a detail of one of the windows:

Ted's Bar: The prize of the Larpenteur/Lexington intersection

2006-08-04T15:56:00.000-05:00

So, does Ted's Bar have the coolest looking frontage or what? There it lies up on Larpenteur at Lexington. You just don't see enough chrome and neon these days. The terrific Turf Club does, of course, have a beautiful neon sign (I must go get a photograph of it for the blog) but Ted's has something all of its own. I think that it's the incongruity of the bar and the immediate environment. With the exception of Patrick's Bar down the road (which for me, always evokes the house made of confectionary in Hansel and Gretel--look out for a picture here soon), there are no other bars close by. The rest of the Larpenteur/Lexington intersection is a pretty drab strip mall dystopia. I think that it's the chrome that I like particularly like on Ted's frontage. Against the brown bricks that make up the building the chrome resonates with a vaguely futuristic feel. Inside is okay too. I've only made it in the afternoon and there's usually been a fairly decent crowd. I must go down in the evening. Does anyone have stories about the bar's history?

On the subject of bars, when I moved to my neighborhood (Como/Snelling) I was struck by their general absence. Only upon getting into a conversation with the guy at the hardware store on Como at St. Anthony Park (next door to the post office near Dunn Brothers Coffee) did I find out that this is all to do with an old bylaw that stipulates that no bars (or liquor stores) can be opened within a certain distance from the U of M's St. Paul campus. All about discouraging keg parties and the havoc that they'd supposedly bring. Jeez. Apparently, this bylaw gets renewed every year or two. I guess the University has a lot of power in this regard. A recent anomaly is the little wine shop opposite Dunn Brothers'. The owner there told me that they had to fight pretty hard for permission to open. No beer of course. I guess the University doesn't mind wine drinkers. Anyway, we still have Ted’s and Patrick’s.

cycling is green: it's official

2006-08-04T15:31:00.000-05:00

So, on the subject of odd little things in and around the neighborhood, I came across this the other day. I guess that someone must have left these two bicycles out behind their garage years ago. The weeds have grown through and around them so that now they're mostly covered in green. Like the fire truck that I discussed in a previous post (suburban-firetruck-decay) I like the general sense of decay here (a rusted piece of transportation that's been abandoned to the elements) and the subsequent emergence of something that's aesthetically arresting over time. The technology/nature theme is also interesting, of course. I see these little displays (I see them as displays even though that wasn't in all likelihood the initial intent here) as an unintentional suburban art form. I'd love to see other examples of this (that is, if and when folk start looking at my blog). I must go back later in the summer and see what the green bicycles look like then. But damn, we need some rain if those weeds are going to grow.

suburban alleyway decor

2006-08-03T14:13:00.000-05:00

On the face of it, my neighborhood is pretty dull. But the more that I walk around I notice odd little things that seem to tell interesting stories. People around here seem to have a penchant for doing novel things with their gardens and the little areas at the back or the side of their homes. Here's a display that someone created that I find quite intriguing. It's basically a small pool surrounded by rocks with a some climbing leaves and a mirror in the middle. There are some fairy lights and beads around the edge of the mirror which look nice at night. It struck me as quite odd when I first saw it but it's really quite pretty. It certainly makes the alleyway more interesting. It also has a bit of an eerie quality, especially at night.

suburban firetruck decay

2006-08-03T13:33:00.000-05:00

So, I've been observing this old fire truck for some time now. (I won't disclose the location). Positioned next to this white picket fence it evokes images that have circulated in American popular culture for years (the scene in David Lynch's Blue Velvet comes to mind most immediately). It almost looks as if it's been placed there with some aesthetic purpose, though I imagine that it was parked there out of necessity. The doors are welded shut, I think, so you have to peek through the windows at the inside. That's the old hose on the back there. It looks as if someone's had a few half-hearted goes at painting it up. I think that it's the colors--the various shades or red, grey and off-white which blend into the general rust color--that I like the most. I must go back and read the writing on the cabin door again to see which town or fire station it came from.

seaside decay: how did cardboard man die?

2006-08-02T22:53:00.000-05:00

When I walked through this old fun fair in Morecambe a few weeks ago it reminded me (somewhat oddly) of an abandoned film set of a Hollywood western. If I were to imagine a more appropriate American comparison, Coney Island would be it, albeit on a much grander scale. But there's something about the doors in the first two photos that evokes a western movie setting. There was no tumbleweed of course, but there were plenty of chip wrappers drifting around. The third photograph suggests that the area has been modified for some skateboarding. I kind of like the combination of the skateboarders' alteration of the area and the general ghostliness that presides.

The bottom photograph, "Jug of Tea, 1.50" (I don't know how to do the pound sign on my U.S.-set laptop) is a particular favorite. How did cardboard man die?

seaside sublime: Morecambe's silent movie club

2006-08-02T22:37:00.000-05:00

This is a silent film club back in my hometown of Morecambe--a seaside town in northern England. In the 1910s and 20s, holidaymakers used to gather there on the weekends and watch Chaplin films after a day on the beach. Old Florence would provide piano accompaniment from the corner while smoking her fag while the kids ate ice cream. Or so I like to imagine. Actually, it's not a silent film club at all. It's the back of Brucciani's cafe, one of the best remnants of art deco style in the town. But when I first took the photograph it looked to me very much like a silent film club, which is why I span this fib out for a minute. But seriously, I think that Brucciani's embodies the ghostliness of seaside towns today. To go in there is to step into a place where past and present collide in delightful but oddly unsettling ways. And this is the strange allure of down-at-heel English seaside towns, I think. They're enjoyable because they take you into a past that's vying for some kind of recognition as a legitimate form of mass entertainment. The large bright rectangle at the back which I reimagined as a movie screen is in fact a frosted window that depicts a Venetian canal scene. The window, like most of the other fittings has been there since the cafe was built in the 1930s. Be sure to visit there if you find yourself in olde Morecambe towne.

Here's a detail from the window:

Nice isn't it? This has to be one of the most sublime places in Morecambe. By the way, Brucciani's does wonderful poached eggs and creamy mushrooms on toast. The mushrooms are out of a can but taste dreamy to me. I heartily recommend them. Just be careful when trying to squeeze your elbows onto the tiny tables or you might be in for trouble. By the way, Brucciani's is a listed building, you know.

life or meth?

2006-08-02T21:08:00.000-05:00

These billboards have been appearing in the Twin Cities of late. This one is at Snelling and Como. In and of themselves, they're not particularly interesting but I find them so when I look at them in conjunction with other signs and objects in the immediate area. Looked at with the twin-bulb lamp their implication of a choice and a weighing up of options becomes pronounced, I think. And then, when juxtaposed with the "One Way" sign on the entry to Snelling from Como they acquire an almost religious tone (The "Way" to salvation?) Or maybe just abstinence?

Spliced against the "Karate Junction" sign, the billboard brings to mind associations between meth and violence. Both the "before" and "after" photographs have a somewhat omnipotent feel, which creates an uncanny feeling given the rather dull character of the intersection. Welcome to my neighborhood.