The front yard of the Minneapolis Club.
Friday, January 28, 2011
More snowy abstract expressionism
This snow scene with broad strokes of asphalt melting through the white ground, and gestural meanders accenting the inside of the curves, reminds me of Robert Motherwell's Elegy for the Spanish Republic. Not literally, but in its evocation.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
I bought this moment. Paid for it.
I contributed a dollar to the flautist's hat. Other hat. The one not in the picture. Music on the skyways is not something you can either escape or take for granted. I had been thinking about that.
Emptyness revealed through the scale of its occupant.
The TCF Tower atrium seems suspended in time, in some process of becoming from its raw vast brick emptyness toward a humanized environment, perhaps with a table or patch of color. In the meantime, this woman sits, and that woman spies her, and I frame the two in the frame of vastness without emotion, downtown.
Bird in the hand moment in the skyways
Live chicken sighting in the NorthStar Center today. If you want to know what it was all about, get out more.
Skyway self commentary on a billboard
Good use of environmental reference in an antifreeze ad in the skyways.
Indoor sports
One of those weird green Twins effigies (Joe Mauer as offspring of the Jolly Green Giant?) outside the Skyway Dental Clinic.
Abstraction of an Abstraction
Cropped photo of an abstract sculpture in the plaza of the Wells Fargo Center. The snow contrives its own commentary on the texture of the piece.
Emptyness.
There are stretches of the skyway that define the word "empty." Quite a few of these, actually.
Hugely empty skyway with unusual signs of life.
I was framing up a shot of the enormously long, empty skyway from the 3rd Ave Garage to the 5th Ave Garage, and this couple walked up past me, obscuring the essential emptyness of the moment with their transient elan.
Light Rail takes a holiday
The LRT power was down today. I noticed walking north from the Jerry Haaf garage that there was activity around this stopped train. Looking closer, I was intrigued by the big truck in front of the train. Was it a tender transferring vital material to the engine, or was it going to tow? The pattern of the trucks tires scribbled another Franz Kline-like abstraction in the snow. You won't find these works of art anywhere but in the great skyway gallery.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
A person in the skyway
When I exchanged a few words with this gentleman and asked if I could take his picture for the blog, he responded with a positive attitude. It caught me by surprise, a bit, and reminded me that there was something important in the act of recognizing someone. I didn't take his picture. He gave it to me, and with substance.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
A windchill of seven below zero.
One of the city's oldest skyways, north of the NorthStar building, with its dingy carpet and narrow passage, still exudes warmth and camaraderie on a razor-cold day.
Waiting in line for lunch
Chipotle at the US Bank center has been drawing crowds since it's recent opening.
Asian Max at One Financial Plaza usually keeps them standing 10- 20 deep during the peak lunch rush.
I am intrigued by people spending time in lines, in the skyways, during lunch. Especially with so many good to great eateries going empty.
A river of light
From the 18th floor, looking south, with the low winter sun shining off the road surface: The autos are like bits of debris floating on a river of light.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Winter City Skyway
The bridges between buildings shelter everyone equally. That is the point. You don't have to buy a skypass, and there aren't dryer, warmer lanes for wealthier users. They fulfill a vision of egalitarian access and utility in cities. In Minnesota they work, and are not neglected, nor do they become eddy pools in the urban stream that collect debris.
What would you do if there were no skyways? Would it matter to you?
Friday, January 14, 2011
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