This year’s Weisman Art Museum (WAM) fall exhibition peers into the shadows of America’s glorified history and beckons forth what has been disremembered.

WAM opened “Kara Walker: Harper’s Pictorial History of the Civil War (Annotated)” on Saturday. The exhibition consists of fifteen large-scale prints of scenes from the Civil War that were printed in “Harper’s Weekly,” annotated with the multimedia artist’s signature silhouettes.

Walker’s silhouettes explain the experiences, violent and otherwise, of Black people during the Civil War that have been excluded from the dominant historical narrative.

“Everything I’m doing is trying to skirt the line between fiction and reality,” Walker said in a companion video on view within the exhibition space.

Indeed, this exhibition prompts us to interrogate what we’ve come to accept as the reality of our national history and how and where it has been fictionalized.

The source material, “Harper’s Pictorial History of the Civil War,” published in 1866, sought to depict events from the Civil War “just as they occurred,” according to the WAM.

Professor Gwendolyn Dubois Shaw of the University of Pennsylvania explained in her keynote lecture coinciding with the exhibition that the editors “purposefully minimized the Black experience” while compiling the book.

In this way, Walker’s prints are not only revelatory but reclamatory as well.

The original engravings, ironically, portray a sort of pastoral serenity, even in their depictions of violence. Against these backdrops, Walker’s silhouettes, which possess a storybook sort of creepiness, visually disrupt the scenes and narratively disrupt the stories being presented.

In “Buzzard’s Roost Pass,” smoke puffs from a cannon and cannonballs appear as small bursts in the middle ground. Meanwhile, Walker’s annotations include the dismembered arm, head and breasts of a Black woman falling into the scene.

Historically, the scene at “Buzzard’s Roost Pass” existed at the midpoint between General William Sherman’s scorched-earth campaigns in Mississippi and Georgia, in which Sherman and his soldiers burned towns to the ground and destroyed all means of transportation.

Walker’s annotations consider the sexual violence against Black women that often occurred during these campaigns, the arm reaching out of the frame hinting at how this redacted violence extends throughout history.

Walker depicts the violence against Black people that persisted during the Civil War, a war supposedly meant to secure their freedom, alongside many different dimensions of Black life then and now.

In “Alabama Loyalists Greeting the Federal Gun-Boats,” the silhouette of a Black woman is projected onto the scene, crawling to her freedom amid the chaos. A Black child in the original engraving appears to crawl after her to their freedom.

The silhouette of a Black man with arms draped in moss poses majestically in the foreground, mirroring the trees surrounding the scene, in the piece “Cotton Hoards in Southern Swamp.”

The piece shows how white supremacy equates Black bodies as natural resources to exploit akin to the cotton they were forced to harvest. In this sense, the silhouette dominating the scene and dwarfing the boat below reclaims the power of the narrative.

“It was intense and horrifying,” said visitor Chris Mann of the exhibition. “But it does a good job of capturing the true range of human experience.”

Part of the gallery space is populated with a seating area of plush black leather chairs and a couch next to a bookshelf with Black historical representations in art and literature. Reflection is a key theme of this exhibition, and this space provides room for visitors to reflect on the art.

Opposite the seating area, visitors can submit postcards with their thoughts on the exhibition.

WAM’s exhibition, which works with Walker’s original 2005 exhibition of the same name, includes an array of original engravings depicting Civil War scenes by the American artist Winslow Homer.

The original engravings in conversation with Walker’s pieces call to mind what is missing from the scene, obscured by the glory of war.

In one engraving, a Black person dances for a crowd of white soldiers in a campfire scene. While the soldiers’ faces appear neutral, their true thoughts and feelings are obscured. Are they looking with interest? Derision? Do they really see this person as an equal?

What’s more, the Black person’s face is hidden from view.

The exhibition appears during a moment of reflection for the Weisman, as well. In 2022, it received grant funding for a Truth and Reconciliation Project coinciding with the repatriation of Mimbres cultural belongings of Indigenous peoples of the American Southwest.

The project, WAM said at the time, is part of ongoing diversity, equity, access and inclusion initiatives in its operations.

On an individual scale, visitors should consider their place in the history Walker’s work reveals, and how disremembering continues as we move into the future.

With its subterranean location, pillars plastered with gig posters from days of yore, and chalkboard walls and ceilings covered in messages both radical and tongue-in-cheek, the Whole Music Club seems tailored for queer punk acts.

The Whole welcomed two such acts on Saturday — New York City-based queer punk band Sorry Mom and the up-and-coming Twin Cities DIY queen Anita Velveeta.

“Hey friends!” Velveeta said to the crowd of students, many of them punks. Several whoops of excitement bounced around the room.

As she set up her backing track playing off her computer (her usual band couldn’t make the gig), Velveeta directed regulars to her shows to come closer to the stage.

“I need you to show people how to dance, or else they’re gonna break my kneecaps,” she said to laughter.

And people danced.

Velveeta’s performance bridged the gap between stage and audience. There were multiple songs where she dove into the mosh pit while singing and even got the crowd to carry her at one point.

Though Velveeta can conjure a circle pit in a crowd, it reads more like a friend’s infectious spontaneity than orders that must be followed. Combined with her relatable songwriting, mutable sound and humorous persona, Velveeta is definitively of the people, for the people.

Velveeta, who opened for Sorry Mom, began her set with “disassociating in the back room of a starbucks,” which she dedicated to “everyone who has to wear a green apron for a living.”

The song begins with quiet, whimpering vocals which crescendo into hardcore scream-singing, at the end of which Velveeta screamed into the microphone while holding it between her teeth.

Velveeta began the song “Stealing From Target Is A Twin Cities Pastime” by yelling “612, fuck 12!” with several police officers and security guards posted around the room, something she said was a big difference compared to the venues she usually plays.

“I definitely got a glare from the cop,” Velveeta said in an interview.

An ex-Gopher twice over, Velveeta also took time to reminisce about her days studying Cultural Studies and Comparative Literature, specifically musicology with Professor Michael Gallope.

“I’m extremely grateful for what I did learn while I was here,” Velveeta said. “It’s cool to get to do what I always wanted to do at this school.”

Velveeta ended her set with “TERFS WILL NOT GET INTO HEAVEN,” during which she directed a regular to take the mic at a certain part of the song, then for the pit to try and wrestle it away from them.

“I am not an issue!” Velveeta and the audience member screamed in unison into the mic, the crowd jostling in frenetic movement.

Ultimately, Velveeta got to keep her kneecaps, because the moshing lasted throughout Sorry Mom’s set.

Vocalist and guitarist Juno Moreno rocketed the show forward with ragged, angsty vocals and lightning-quick riffs, with drummer Taryn Gangi and touring bassist Hector Udall matching the energy.

There were times when Gangi was drumming so hard she practically jumped out of her seat.

Sorry Mom’s songwriting is similarly tongue-in-cheek to Velveeta’s, with titles like “Molly Sells Molly by the Seashore,” “But I’m a Quarterback” and “I Fcked Yr Mom.”

The latter song features spoken-word taunting from the narrator about how they seduced someone’s mom, at which point Moreno tried to improvise.

“I saw your mom in the Twin Cities. I thought, ‘That’s another pair of twins I’d like to see,’” Moreno said.

Moreno said “I Fcked Yr Mom” is a simple song, but the improv can be hit or miss.

Sorry Mom’s set was also dotted with covers, from an angstier, screamier version of King Princess’s “Hit the Back,” an admittedly weird version of “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None The Richer, and a more straightforward, though still punk-flavored version of “Pristine” by Snail Mail.

Though Velveeta technically opened for them, she and Sorry Mom are definitive artistic equals.

All three members of Sorry Mom said they were “stoked” to play with Velveeta — so stoked, in fact, that they went off their tour path to drive to Minneapolis from Columbus, Ohio in one night, “(defying) the human need for sleep.”

Velveeta and Sorry Mom will join forces in Minneapolis again on Dec. 7, when they play at the Varsity Theater during Pissfest.

Leading down the hall towards the Whole is a series of colorful frames displaying programs of previous bands who have performed at the club. Among their ranks are grunge gods Soundgarden and Twin Cities alternate rock veterans The Replacements.

The members of Sorry Mom were floored upon hearing that.

“It’s like we’re a little part of history,” Gangi said.

Indeed, the next program hung on the wall should be Sorry Mom and Anita Velveeta from 2024.

For many students, college is their first time moving away from home — their first time inhabiting their own space.

These spaces, from dorms to apartments to duped-out houses, aren’t always what they expected them to be.

Ethan Andler, a first-year University of Minnesota student, originally wanted a triple room in Pioneer Hall with his two roommates, but they were given an “extended double” room in Comstock Hall instead.

“It’s essentially a double for three people,” Andler said. “I hated it. I thought, ‘You’re gonna get three grown dudes in here?’”

Still, before moving in, Andler made mock-ups of the room to brainstorm what he and his roommates could do with it. Even with a rattling window and having to walk back to his dorm from the communal showers in soaked shoes, Andler wanted to work with what they had.

“I want my place to be special, and what we have is special,” Andler said. 

He added that the best part of their space is the sprawling view of the Mississippi River and the skyline of West Bank and downtown Minneapolis.

Andler described his and his roommates’ decorating style as minimalistic. Indeed, plain, dark gray bedding and a matching futon and curtains adorn their University-provided loft beds, with additions of a simple black leather cube footrest and a striped light gray rug.

But Andler said they accented the room with colorful lights.

In fact, each student I interviewed said they avoid using their “sterile,” “corporate” and “hospital” overhead lighting.

Ryan Olk, a second-year student, said he prioritizes function over form in his small, shared bedroom at the Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity house but avoids using his overhead light like the plague.

“We have a couple of UMN flags and lights around, and there’s also natural light from this big window,” Olk said.

Olk, who joined SigEp as a freshman, said he enjoys the camaraderie of living with 40 other people but also the sense of independence that comes with living in a house compared to a dorm.

“You don’t have to rely on a dining hall or anything like that. Plus, my room has AC and wood floors,” Olk said.

Olk said the common spaces in the house came pre-decorated and that he and his fraternity brothers brought an “If it’s not broke, don’t fix it,” mentality to those spaces.

The real customization comes with individual rooms in the house, Olk said.

Given the small space he shares with his roommate, Olk said they use a desk to split the room in half, providing a good workspace.

When living with a roommate, Olk said communication is key.

“It’s their space, too, but feel free to speak your mind,” he said.

College living spaces are typically either small, cookie-cutter or both. What’s more, moving in and out of these spaces within a relatively short period of time is virtually guaranteed. 

Still, students agree that intentionality with function and style is key.

Xaria Williams, a second-year student living in Radius Apartments, curated a tidy, minimalist yet stylish living room with her roommates. A comfortable blue sectional and warm green armchair circle a modern, circular coffee table adorned with a vase of fall flowers.

Of course, Williams and her roommates detest overhead lighting, too.

“We try to keep it homey with a lamp and LEDs,” Williams said. “We were very intentional with our space, but it took trial and error as well.”

Williams brought a similar aesthetic to her room, a cozy space lit primarily with the warm dimness of a floor lamp.

“It’s minimalist, but I also used a pop of color, florals with warm tones, and black and white prints on the walls,” she said. “The space was hard to work with initially because of the weird shape of the room. The bed would only fit well like this.”

Williams’ bed takes up the side of the room closest to the window. The pocket of space that’s left is inhabited by a small wooden desk, with pens and pencils and a wooden jewelry box with floral designs arranged on top.

Williams described Radius Apartments as “70% apartment, 30% dorm.” Like a dorm, floors on Radius are split into communities, and University advertising adorns the elevator. At the same time, the larger size of the apartment creates a less closely-knit community.

“I moved here because I liked the apartment style. There’s in-house laundry and a full-sized bed,” Williams said. “There’s less of a community here, but it’s better than other upperclassmen options.”

Instead of a monthly rent charge, the cost of living at Radius is included in tuition, similar to a dorm housing contract, providing a flat price rather than recurring out-of-pocket payments to worry about.

Living in multiple different places for only about a year each is chaotic, but these temporary spaces still serve as refuges after draining days of classes.

Students agree that decorating these spaces with intention is key because they’re the first taste of something truly their own.

“Really find what you want,” Olk said.

Staring out of the entrance of the Katherine E. Nash Gallery is a portrait of George Floyd’s face painted in vibrant blues set against a rough white background. To the left of the portrait stands the words “SAY HIS NAME” in the same blue tones.

The piece, “Blues for George” by Twin Cities multidisciplinary artist Seitu Jones, is one of many plywood murals that appeared across the Twin Cities during the 2020 Minneapolis Uprising.

A collection of these preserved murals is now on display at the Nash Gallery in the University of Minnesota Regis Center for Art — East as part of its newest exhibition, “Art and Artifact.”

The exhibition showcases the efforts of grassroots organization Memorialize the Movement (MTM) and its executive director, Leesa Kelly, to preserve the murals and by extension the communities they sustained during the turmoil of the Uprising.

“What Leesa has done here is rescue a set of national treasures,” Jones said in his artist talk accompanying the exhibition. “Before coming here, I did not know that (“Blues for George”) still existed.”

The Uprising came in the wake of Floyd’s murder by Minneapolis police, a manifestation of the anger, generational and systemic trauma, grief, and fear that brewed in the Twin Cities during the first months of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Businesses scrambled to board up their windows to protect from looting, but just as quickly as the plywood went up, murals bloomed across them.

“It was a beacon of light in the darkest of times,” Kelly said in her artist talk.

Some of the murals on display are more composed, others are simple messages scrawled ruggedly in black paint across the wood.

“#Prosecute the police,” reads one message by an unidentified artist, beads of dripping paint still hanging from some of the letters.

Other messages acted as means of communication between businesses and community members. 

One chilling message reads: “Do not burn, immigration lawyers.” Many similar messages appeared on BIPOC-owned businesses as sigils of protection.

Another piece is a large board with a door handle screwed into it and various messages of resistance scrawled across it. The plaque next to it describes the piece as a body shield used during the Uprising to protect from police brutality.

Regardless of artistic complexity or original purpose, the murals serve as reminders of the most impactful period in recent Twin Cities history, as well as the long history of systemic racism that has allowed for the murder of Black people by police without recourse.

“It was born in protest and should be honored as such,” Kelly said.

Kelly spearheaded the movement to collect and preserve the murals in the months following the Uprising when the plywood started to come down and there was no clear destination for them. 

Kelly began with collecting the murals in her garage, then raised money for MTM to rent a space at the Northrup King Building in Northeast Minneapolis and store them there. Since its founding, MTM has collected and preserved over 1,000 plywood murals, according to its website.

According to Kelly, MTM saved the murals from destruction or from sitting in the basements of museums, spaces where Black people are sorely underrepresented.

“Since 2020, I have learned that five percent of all conservators, less than seven percent of all historians, and four percent of all curators in the United States are Black,” Kelly said. “That means that if a museum had collected this art, there would likely only be one Black person, if that, in the whole institution who could tell this story, if they were even given the opportunity to do so.”

“Art and Artifact” is Black history honored, curated and showcased by Black people. Debut Curator and University of Minnesota graduate Amira McLendon said the show represents “the legacy of Black art as a form of activism.”

“Liberation is multifaceted, and art has the power to disrupt, to challenge and to heal,” McLendon said.

Although the murals are displayed outside of their original context, the array of emotions they hold seep into the viewer as they move through the gallery, regardless of who they are and where they were at the time of the Uprising.

“I’ve heard the word sacred a lot, and that’s how it feels to be in there,” said McLendon’s friend Mildred Agyapong.

In the middle of the main gallery space rises the iconic wooden fist sculpture by Jordan Powell-Karis, originally built at the site of Floyd’s murder at what is now George Floyd Square at the corner of East 38th Street and Chicago Avenue.

It’s one thing to describe such a powerful sight, and it’s another to see a photo of it through a screen. 

“Viewing them through a screen feels distinctly distant,” McLendon said.

Everyone should visit “Art and Artifact” at least once before it closes on Dec. 7, as it is truly not enough to read about it. 

“Art and Artifact” demands to be experienced.

When Student Unions & Activities (SUA) announced in August that indie singer-songwriter Indigo De Souza would perform at Coffman Union in October, my first thought was “How?!? Why?!”

My friend and I immediately bought tickets for the Oct. 12 show at 7:30, but those questions filled my brain the entire time. Why was De Souza, who previously opened for huge acts like Mitski and Lucy Dacus, coming to our college campus? How did SUA get her?

Kirra Stopka, a SUA event planner for the Whole Music Club, said pitching De Souza as a potential concert instantly piqued office interest.

“It was finalized within weeks, while some of the smaller bands we’ve worked with have taken way longer to book,” Stopka said. “Larger artists often have agents who make correspondences with our team much easier than with an artist who may not have a team yet.”

Stopka said SUA hosts one national act near the beginning of every fall semester. Last year, it was TikTok sensation Ricky Montgomery. She added that large acts are booked for Homecoming and Spring Jam.

“I’m pretty optimistic about turnout,” Stopka said. “We saw a big first-day jump in ticket sales after we announced the show, so students are excited.”

On Monday, SUA announced Susannah Joffe and Minneapolis punk rock band Creeping Charlie as openers.

Stopka said she is a fan of De Souza and started listening after hearing about De Souza opening for Mitski in July 2022. 

“‘I Love My Mom’ is one of my favorite albums,” Stopka said, referring to De Souza’s 2018 debut record. “Her most recent album (“All of This Will End”) has really dark themes but an optimistic, folksy-sounding vibe. I really enjoy that contradiction.”

Straightforward lyricism and raw, unpolished vocals are key facets of De Souza’s artistry. In a 2023 interview for GRAMMY.com, De Souza explained how she links this honesty to mortality.

“The acceptance of mortality allows me to make music that is directly from the heart,” De Souza said. “I don’t feel scared of being open about my feelings because they’re fleeting, and I know that at the end of it all, I’m going to die.”

De Souza’s lyricism is to the point, but never too on the nose. The second track on “All of This Will End,” “You Can Be Mean,” sucker-punches you with it in a short, two-and-a-half-minute vent.

“I can’t believe I let you touch my body / I can’t believe I let you get inside,” De Souza sings, her words dripping with bitterness. “You know what you did / You know what you took from me / It makes me sick to think about that night.”

They are lyrics you wish you could say to someone directly, but circumstances mean indirectness must suffice, so you throw everything into it.

University of Minnesota senior Abby Wichlacz said he appreciates De Souza’s relatable songwriting, particularly in “You Can Be Mean” and “Take Off Ur Pants.”

The latter song’s chorus begins with a painfully honest, but often necessary, confession of true feelings: “Now that everyone’s gone, I can tell you the truth / I don’t love you, I like you.”

“It’s like, I’ve been there. I get the emotion.” Wichlacz said.

He also named “Kill Me” and De Souza’s 2016 single, “Boys” as favorites of his.

Wichlacz said he was both excited and shocked when he heard about De Souza coming to campus because SUA has not hosted acts he has been interested in seeing before.

“I’m honestly just excited to be around other fans and see someone I didn’t think would come here and have fun with my friends,” Wichlacz said.

August Mentch, another University senior, named De Souza’s belting guitar and piano ballad “Younger & Dumber” and the more indie-rock sounding but equally wistful “Sick in the Head” as their favorites.

A friend of Wichlacz, Mentch said they were excited to go to a concert with him and partake in that atmosphere together.

“We’ve been friends for years and we still haven’t gone to a concert together,” Mentch said. “Even if you’re at a concert with people you don’t know, you get to bond with them in that moment over a shared love of the artist.”

Tucked away on St. Clair Ave. in the Macalester-Groveland neighborhood in St. Paul is the ArtScraps Creative Reuse Materials and Idea Center, a small, colorful storefront housing endless creative possibilities in the form of donated craft supplies and other materials for reuse.

Opened in 1993, the ArtScraps store is an arm of the arts nonprofit ArtStart, which was established in 1987.

“The mission of ArtStart is to inspire artistic creativity and illuminate the connections among people, ideas and the environment through engaging artists, children, families, and communities in quality arts education experiences,” said the organization in its mission statement.

ArtStart aims to cater to all artistic pursuits regardless of age, identity or creative background. This is apparent in ArtScraps’ interior, which looks like an “I Spy” book come to life.

ArtScraps houses everything from traditional craft supplies like markers, pens and yarn to barrels full of paper towel tubes, CDs and orange prescription bottles, ready to be used in someone’s next creative experiment.

“You notice different things every time you come in,” said Cindy Lukas, a volunteer worker who has been involved with ArtScraps for nearly eight years.

Lukas started as a customer looking for materials to use in creative projects for people with dementia at the nursing home where she assisted. ArtScraps also proved useful for her own mixed media art practice.

“It just fit with the other things I was doing,” Lukas said, which is what led her to start volunteering.

Examples of art made with ArtScraps materials can be found all over the store, adding even more color to the whimsically kitschy space.

Hanging in the far-left corner inside the front window are fabric tubes tangled together and hung from the ceiling, appearing like tentacles. Buttons adorn them, as well as large glass and metal circles resembling giant eyes.

On a shelf in the middle of the store is a green paper-mâché fish and various dioramas, including one of the human brain made for a school project with its different sections made of different colored plastic leis.

“Who knows what it was to begin with, but we had it,” said Store Manager Becky Olson when she pulled the diorama off the shelf, referring to the yellow hard plastic rim containing the brain.

Olson started at ArtScraps as a volunteer, then became a teaching artist who led different store activities until becoming the manager in 2012.

An artist with a background in set production for theater, Olson said she loves ArtScraps’ mission of “being a part of the circle of materials and making them readily available.”

“People love to give their materials to a place that’s dedicated to reuse,” Olson said. “It takes a load off their minds.”

Lukas said she donates a lot of stuff because it gets it out of her house and makes her husband happy.

The value of ArtScraps goes far beyond being a drop-off site for objects without purpose. It is the community that is fostered around the exchange and discovery of objects and their creative potential that counts.

“It makes people feel good,” Olson said.

What is more, a lot of those objects are priced under a dollar, excluding items with special value.

“A lot of things are at least 50 percent off craft store price,” said Franny Haight, ArtScraps employee and fifth-year University of Minnesota fine arts student. “I once found $2 mohair yarn.”

Haight said the low prices create access to the arts and the environment of ArtScraps, which also sets it apart from craft store chains like Michaels, which she called “sterile.”

Haight said coming to ArtScraps means shopping without the ethical concerns involving corporations, such as where their wares are sourced and how they treat their workers.

“You’re supporting a small nonprofit and saving items from a landfill,” Haight said.

As a worker, Haight has helped working artists find materials for their projects but also sees a lot of children come to ArtScraps.

“Kids have less judgment about what materials they’re working with or where they come from,” Haight said.

The infinite avenues of inspiration maintained by ArtScraps create childlike wonder in everyone who visits, which ultimately spurs creativity, both individually and collectively.

Haight said young girls come in semi-regularly and the last time they came in, they challenged each other to buy only items in their favorite colors.

In another instance, Haight said a parent showed their child around the store. As they were leaving, she heard the child say, “Thanks for bringing me here.”

To find out more about how and what to donate to ArtScraps, visit their donation page on their website. Their next open donation day is Tuesday, Aug. 20.

ArtScraps is open Thursday and Friday, 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., and Saturday, 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.

Whether or not you believe in astrology, it is undeniable that it holds value for people.

One of the first things you will learn about me is my love for astrology, and one of the first things I will ask you is what your sign is (I’m a Leo, for the record).

I am drawn to astrology because of how deeply I resonate with all of the placements in my birth chart (my Scorpio moon and Sagittarius rising, for example). It helps me see the nuances of my personality and articulate them, something I learned to do as I matured to an adult.

I also love to see how other peoples’ placements shape them and my relationships with them. In short, I cannot not see the world through an astrological lens.

According to the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization, the earliest evidence of astrology dates back to the third millennium B.C.E and was considered an academic discipline for centuries throughout much of Eurasia.

Today, Millennials and Gen-Z, attracted to the sense of control the practice provides during chaotic times, have helped it proliferate the internet, even though it is now considered a pseudoscience.

Perhaps someone has asked you for your “Big Three” (sun, moon and rising signs) or “Big Six” (the previous three, plus your Mercury, Venus and Mars signs). Perhaps you know what all of them mean or perhaps you do not.

If you are interested in astrology, there are plenty of places in the Twin Cities alone that can give you the tools to get started.

The Future, a 30-minute bus ride via the 3 and 22H buses or a 10-minute drive from the University of Minnesota in the Corcoran neighborhood, is a small storefront with a bright interior. The space was filled with the energizing scent of cinnamon when I visited on Friday.

Lacey Prpic-Hedtke, an Aquarius, opened the store in 2017 and started her own astrology business, Silver Rising Astrology, the following year. Prpic-Hedtke said she has been interested in astrology since she was 12.

“I like that astrology is a way for people to understand how they relate to other people,” Prpic-Hedtke said. “It’s not necessarily about telling them what to do, but it’s more like a weather report. We have free will, but I try to make (my readings) empowering.”

The Future carries Prpic-Hedtke’s favorite book growing up, “The Only Astrology Book You’ll Ever Need” by Joanna Martine Woolfolk, among a myriad of other books, zines, accessories and ritualistic tools like candles and incense.

One book that stood out to me was “Post-Colonial Astrology” by Alice Sparkly Kat, a breakdown of how astrology can be used for collective liberation and healing. It immediately went on my “To Be Read” list.

For even more astrology books, stop by Magus Books and Herbs in Northeast Minneapolis, a 10-minute drive or 20-minute bus ride via the 2C and 10 buses.

Beyond astrology, Magus offers books catering to various spiritual beliefs, helping to bring those people together under one roof.

“I love overhearing a conversation in the store between a Buddhist, a Wiccan and a ceremonial atheist,” said owner and Master Herbalist Liz Johnson, a Gemini. “I think that’s fascinating. It’s good for the world.”

Out of what Magus has to offer, Johnson recommended “Astrologickal Magick” by Minneapolis author Estelle Daniels. 

Magus also has an in-house astrologer who holds classes and can be seen by appointment for birth chart readings of varying lengths.

One of Minneapolis’ oldest astrological institutions was The Eye of Horus, which opened in 2003 and is now split into a retail metaphysical store, MoonStone MPLS and 3rd Eye Psychic Salon.

Rachel Dominguez, owner of 3rd Eye Psychic Salon and a Scorpio, explained how astrology is built into practice as a tarot card reader.

“The major cards all have either a zodiac sign or a planet or an element, and the small cards are just interpolations of planets and signs,” Dominguez said. “You can derive a very flexible and nuanced interpretation based off of these different symbols as they arise.”

Dominguez said 3rd Eye Psychic Salon has two astrologers on staff who offer readings of varying lengths, but also recommended getting a Thoth Tarot deck at MoonStone, which she said includes nuances that were removed from the mainstream Rider-Waite decks.

“There’s all these different parts to the cards and they all make for an incredibly nuanced universe of constellations of meanings,” Dominguez said. “That’s going to help you understand your signs more.”

There are many ways to break into astrology, a practice Prpic-Hedtke said you can never stop learning about.

“Who’s to say any of what’s on Earth is made up,” Prpic-Hedtke said. “It’s just fun to believe in things I want to believe in, that bring me joy and make me giggle.”

On display at Schmidt Artist Lofts Landmark Gallery in St. Paul on Saturday were many different iterations of Camden Stevens’ distinctive character — a lanky figure, clad in a plain T-shirt, jeans and sneakers with a smooth glass orb as a head known as Stargazer.

Prints, a metal sculpture and a Lego figure of Stargazer populated the University of Minnesota Bachelor of Fine Arts graduate’s first solo exhibition named after the character.

Stevens, also known by his artist name C3, said Stargazer was originally a self-insert character, but it evolved as he wanted to detach his identity from his art.

“The Stargazer thing kind of started as an idealized version of myself,” C3 said. “But then I was having the realization of like, ‘If you’re doing some kind of self-insert, are you going to do the best possible version of yourself or are you going to be realistic about it and have it be a full form of self-expression?’”

The evolution of Stargazer was on full display, from its appearance in doodles in C3’s “Sketchbook 14” to an iteration of the character with dark brown skin in the inkjet print on panel: “Is It Wickedness?”

All of C3’s characters are faceless in some way and not always via globehead. One character has a pink, spiky brain and brainstem for a head and neck. Another, a simple paper bag.

When C3 does render faces in his artwork, they are incomplete or obscured — only half of a face, a glimmer hiding an eye or just the top of someone’s head.

“It’s too easy for me to be like, ‘Oh, I’m making a piece that’s supposed to feel sad. Let me use their facial expressions to communicate that to the audience,’” C3 said.

Another factor influencing the anonymity of C3’s characters is his desire to detach his characters from gender.

“There are no exact distinguishing things saying this is a man or whatever,” C3 said. “This collection then is acknowledging the space masculinity fits in my life, and why I do or absolutely don’t like that.”

C3’s consistent character design and the distinctive dynamism of his characters, lines and shapes call to mind Keith Haring, who had his own distinctive, hypermobile anonymous figures.

The most Haring-esque part of the STARGAZER universe is the use of abstracted, squiggly globe people as a substitution for in-universe text. It can be seen on a bottle of vodka in “Conversations With You Sponsor” and on an underwear waistband in “Man Up.”

Even the smallest details serve to immerse the viewer in STARGAZER. 

“Man Up” was the favorite piece of Rain McCafferty, a visitor at the opening. A shirtless, pale-skinned globe head beating up a person on the ground takes up most of the panel. Below, the arms of a yellow letterman jacket (as seen in “Dickhead 2”) splay out in both directions, and blood and broken glass can be seen above.

“I went in a backwards order and it was my first exposure to the fishbowl helmet bit,” McCafferty said. “There’s not many super raw experiences that humans can have anymore. At least, for most people, in most cases getting in a violent encounter is at the bottom of the list.”

McCafferty said the “obscured and garbled” in-universe figure text reminded her of being on psychedelics.

People of all ages, from young adults to middle-aged and older, visited STARGAZER, which showed just how many people were touched by C3 and his work.

“He’s a better artist than me,” said Liv Stevens, C3’s sister. 

A Schmidt Lofts resident, Stevens booked the Landmark Gallery for her brother. She sported vibrant blue eyeshadow dotted with darker blue stars and a matching black dress with white stars for the opening.

“I’ve loved his art for so many years,” Stevens said. “It’s just very cool to see him come around to be a professional.”

The making of STARGAZER was a family affair — C3 said his mother helped with the installation and kept him focused and inspired, as he writes in the show’s program. 

His other sister, Brenna, also helped him organize the show and was there to open the door for guests.

C3 said Nina Lund, who was in his BFA cohort, helped refine the collection.

“I love you all so much and I really appreciate being able to share this with you,” C3 said, choking up as he addressed his visitors.

C3 will be holding a free, public artist talk about STARGAZER on Sunday, July 28 at 4 p.m. at Schmidt Lofts and said he hopes to hold another exhibition in December.

Indie darling Clairo’s third studio album “Charm,” which came out July 12, is a warm, soul-infused, mature take on the complexities of young adulthood.

On her first independent release, Clairo expands and improves upon the sounds of her moodier second album “Sling,” which came out in 2021.

“Charm is a collection of warm, 70’s-inspired grooves that move lithely between jazz, psychedelic folk and soul,” says the album’s official description.

Sonically, this description is appropriate, considering “Charm” was recorded entirely on analog tape.

The success of “Charm” lies in the exchange of now overused pop music producer, Jack Antonoff, for Leon Michels as co-producer. Michels’ experience with soul group El Michels Affair and funk group Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings lends “Charm” its signature sound.

It also hones Clairo’s artistry and prevents her from sounding like another Taylor Swift or Lana Del Rey.

Sonically, “Charm” is a far cry from the synthy, sweet bedroom pop Clairo made as a teenager. It is still her bedroom she invites us into, just in a new place, decorated with richer colors, infused with experience and newfound self-knowledge.

The 38-minute-long record begins with the album’s two lead singles, “Nomad” and “Sexy to Someone,” two songs with seemingly contrasting themes until you listen closely.

The wistful opening track “Nomad” begins with crooning, western-inspired guitar, leading into Clairo singing about wanting to be alone to avoid disappointment, but desiring to be wanted at the same time.

“I’d rather be alone than a stranger / You’d come visit me late at night,” she sings, her silky vocals harmonizing beautifully with the backing vocal track.

“Sexy to Someone” more explicitly asks for attention, but ultimately gets to a similar point as “Nomad.” Clairo will let herself and others enjoy admiration only from afar, “Nothing more, nothing less.”

With nearly 30.5 million plays on Spotify, “Sexy to Someone” is already a summer hit. Its simple yet grooving beat is accentuated by a jazzy trumpet, french horn, piano and clarinet instrumentation, and Clairo’s relatable lyricism.

“Sexy to somebody, it would help me out,” she sings in the chorus. “Oh, I need a reason to get out of the house / And it’s just a little thing I can’t live without.”

Truly, what is the point of leaving the house if you are not going to be someone’s mysterious stranger stuck in their head for the rest of the day?

Not all songs on “Charm” are that aloof, though. Clairo leans into tenderness and intimacy on the album’s seventh track, “Juna.”

The funk-inspired track is addressed to a new crush and leaning into those heart-racing feelings after a long time.

It is easy to conflate Clairo’s whispering vocals with melancholy, but in “Juna,” they are light and flirty. If this song’s purpose is to compel the listener to fall in love, it succeeds.

I  was endeared to it after watching a TikTok of Clairo dancing enigmatically and mouthing the sensual second verse, with the caption “I heard you like this one.”

“(You make me wanna) go dancing / (You make me wanna) try on feminine,” Clairo tells the object of her affection. “(You make me wanna) go buy a new dress / (You make me wanna) slip off a new dress.”

“Terrapin,” the preceding track to “Juna,” is similar sonically, and the two blend into each other very well. Its repeating rhythmic melody is earworm-worthy.

Part of Clairo’s exploration of young adulthood is romantic feelings, both heart-racing and heart-wrenching. The latter is illustrated in “Add Up My Love,” a song where Clairo taunts her ex after the end of a relationship, but also herself for her unresolved feelings.

“If I could wait for a time / To be mad about it, mad about it / I’d choose a day when you’re on your way / And I can say it all to your face,” she sings with a voice comparably stronger than the rest of the songs on “Charm.” 

Of course, romance is not a part of every young adult’s life, nor is it ever the only thing.

The closing track, “Pier 4,” which admittedly feels like an abrupt ending, demonstrates the overarching theme of “Charm” and young adulthood: self-discovery.

The stripped-down guitar ballad revisits the themes of “Nomad,” but feels hardened, as if Clairo is letting go of her desire to be wanted and leaning solely into solitude.

“And if you’re walking home alone / you’ll find a reason, you’ll just chalk it up / to being different, being young / and wonder why no one knew you at all,” she sings, describing the moment of realization that you have grown.

The title “Charm” is taken from the saying “The third time’s the charm.” Indeed, this is Clairo’s most cohesive album yet, down to the visually pleasing album cover dominated by warm, muted neutrals and greens, and its zany, wiggly cover font.

The album speaks volumes as the first she has produced independent of a record label, with more control over production and instrumentation and, concurrently, more maturity.

Editor’s Note: This article contains explicit language.

Over one hundred people crowded into the fenced-in backyard of the Pink Place house on Saturday following the Fourth of July. They were brought together by loud, churning electric guitar and even louder expressions of anger toward the United States and the forces of oppression it is said to foster.

The Pink Place, a house venue in Como, hosted an event called “F*ck the USA,” a four-set concert featuring local hardcore punk bands. 

All proceeds from the event went to the Autonomous Yurt Union (AYU), a housing justice collective that builds yurt-inspired structures for unhoused people across the Twin Cities. Yurts are circular domed tents with a lattice framework historically used in Mongolia and Central Asia. 

“Yurts make winter in Minnesota survivable,” AYU wrote on their Open Collective page. “With a wood stove and heavy-duty tarp, yurts can make a life or death difference in sub-zero temperatures.”

For Griffin Baumann, Pink Place resident and event facilitator, making “F— the USA” a benefit concert for AYU was a no-brainer.

“It was very, very recently that the Supreme Court made it essentially illegal to be homeless,” Baumann said, speaking of the June 28 decision allowing cities to ban people from sleeping and camping in public. “I didn’t have any doubts about supporting AYU before, but it’s very much like, goddamn, this is even more important because of the bullsh*t that happened last week.”

AYU was not the only mutual aid organization the Pink Place hosted that night. Community Kitchen MPLS and Southside Harm Reduction also tabled, handing out pamphlets and other resources.

Everything on the Southside Harm Reduction table was free, from “I carry Narcan” buttons to lollipops to opaque brown plastic zip bags of Narcan itself.

“Southside Harm Reduction Services works within a harm reduction framework to promote the human rights to health, safety, autonomy, and agency among people who use substances,” Southside Harm Reduction says in its mission statement.

Fundraising Leader Ash Monk said Southside usually tables at other house shows, raves and community events in the Twin Cities, but “F— the USA” was their first Pink Place event.

“We’re really excited to be here to support Autonomous Yurt Union, but also bring safe-use supplies for people and create access to that here,” Monk said.

While tabling, Monk was dispelling urban myths about fentanyl to an attendee, such as videos of police officers overdosing through touching the substance and marijuana flower being able to be laced with it.

“The power of suggestion is really strong,” Monk explained. “But you can only overdose on fentanyl once it enters your bloodstream.”

Monk further explained burning fentanyl destroys it, meaning it cannot be ingested via smoking marijuana.

The actual music was a pumping, blaring mix of four local hardcore bands, all with clear anti-establishment themes in their music.

During their set, the Twin Cities hardcore band Sh*t Dumpster led a chant of “All cops are f—cking bastards,” which was enthusiastically followed by the crowd.

Sh*t Dumpster, for whom Baumann also plays guitar, played their sardonically creative banger “Man Squirrel,” which they explained is a spin on actual superheroes, like Batman, who help the police.

Baumann removed his ski mask for his head to be shaved live on stage, which was met with encouraging chants of “Bald” from the audience.

Other standouts included “fuzzed out punk” band Birdcop from Rochester, Minnesota, whose anti-bigot anthem “Proud Boys” had the moshpit churning, and Twin Cities hardcore girl group Slut Intent.

Lead vocalist of Slut Intent Katy Kelly balanced anger and lightheartedness during their set, which closed out the show. It was apparent through their powerful stage presence that the group loved playing together, but they also jumped at the chance to play for something more than themselves.

“I didn’t even know this was a benefit show until (Pink Place) formed the group chat and I was like, ‘Thank God,’” Kelly said. “I’d rather the money go to people who need it way more and that aren’t f—ing free in this country than us.”

The attendees and performers at “F— the USA” were mostly young. It is only natural, given that major economic and political events form political views at a young age, a process which made young people lose faith in the American dream, “with its individualistic promise that your destiny is in your own hands,” according to the Atlantic.

Generation Z and Millennials have survived two recessions and a pandemic and are now at the forefront of social justice movements, being punished harshly for it.

“We should always be saying ‘F— the USA,” said a young attendee who requested their name not be included in the story. “We should always want change. Having a place to say ‘F*ck the USA’ makes it empowering.”