There are several ways to get something to eat for nothing. You can stumble upon it, such as free samples at the grocery store. You can doggedly pursue it, like the freegans who live off society's refuse by Dumpster-diving. As an unemployed, penniless writer, I decided to take a more artful approach: grazing my way through the hors d'oeuvres tables at the Twin Cities' abundant free arts and culture events.
I've been around the arts scene enough to have witnessed some astounding outlays of food, enough to wonder: Just how much food is out there, and how good? What kind of events and what organizations provide the best spreads? Is it enough to survive on? To find out, I selected a couple of weeks and filled my calendar with readings, lectures, receptions and concerts at galleries, artists' studios, nonprofits, bookstores, churches and universities.
I attended as many events as possible, with an eye for diversity. To keep expenses low and my appetite high, I saddled up on my bike and hit the arts circuit...
Brian Turner Poetry Reading
Place: Plymouth Congregational Church, Mpls.
Time: 7 p.m. Sept. 29.
Gist: No love for poems; big church, small crowd, sad food. Turner fought in the Iraq war, wrote poems about it during his tour and made it home to get a book published, but no one here could be bothered to cook? For all the strength of Turner's reading, the reception is disappointing. Cookies, sweet bread, Kool-Aid and coffee. Yet, among the dun-colored Chips Ahoy and Milanos, a plate of blaze orange frosted discs glows. I bite into one thinking it'll be a cookie, but instead find the soft texture and flavor of pumpkin bread, studded with raisins. They're not particularly good -- either in flavor, texture or concept -- but they get points for being homemade and utterly bizarre.
Opening Reception for Carroll T. Hartwell Photo Exhibit
Place: Minneapolis Institute of Arts.
Time: 5:36 p.m. Oct. 3
Gist: If only the food were as creative as the art. I feel like a rat being funneled through the maze of the Art Institute's marble halls by barriers and security guards. Finally I spot patrons crowded into a small atrium between galleries. They're contained near the cash bar by signs declaring "No Food or Drink Allowed Beyond This Point." Waiters mingle with trays of hors d'oeuvres -- something truffled, I overhear -- but I can only get my hands on a wedge of pita bread topped with corn salsa. On a small table in the back corner, perfectly roasted vegetables tower over platters of cheese. It's all very swank, and very standard. I recognize that water crackers have somehow become the hallmark of sophistication, but really, the best the MIA can do is a dry, bland, crumbly cracker? It's also just awkward, especially when I bump a cluster of grapes into a glass of whiskey sitting on the buffet table, only to find its disgruntled owner standing next to me.
'Poster Offensive' Show
Place: Frank Stone Gallery, Mpls.
Time: 8:28 p.m. Oct. 3.
Gist: Red, white and Mexican! Riding up to the gallery, I'm greeted by a few smokers and a DJ's tunes spilling onto the sidewalk. A "Register to Vote!" sign stands inside the door. Weaving my way through the plaid button-downs, skinny jeans and Obama/Biden T-shirts, I finally spot a basket of Oreos on a low table and a mountain of brownies and cream puffs on another. A tray of spanakopita triangles is tucked against a wall. In the back, high upon white pillars, the mecca of free food beckons: a taco bar. Tacos are real sustenance! Perhaps it's a nod to the hipster crowd who cultivate the hungry, impoverished look, but I rejoice. I wrap spicy meat, shredded lettuce and cheese, black olives, green onions, sour cream and Tabasco sauce in a soft-shell tortilla, grab a glass of red wine and head to the patio for a satisfying meal.
Organ Recital
Place: St. John the Evangelist Episcopal Church, St. Paul.
Time: 4:05 p.m., Sunday Oct. 5.
Gist: More food than you can shake a cane at. After the recital to celebrate the restoration of St. John's organ, I follow the gaggle of elderly parishioners into the fireplace lounge behind the sanctuary. We're greeted by a long buffet brimming with an endless assortment of finger foods. There are six choices of wine to accompany baguette, pita bread, hummus, egg salad, cream-cheese dips, white cheeses, orange cheeses, brie drowning in raspberry sauce, salami, mini-cupcakes, mini-pecan pies and mini-mushroom tarts, to name a few. I guess a refurbished organ calls for pulling out all the stops. Although not gourmet, the simple abundance of food outweighs any criticisms I could make.
Rose Ensemble Concert Season Preview
Place: Hamline-Midway Public Library, St. Paul.
Time: 7 p.m. Oct. 7.
Gist: Ho-hum lecture, humdinger cookies. After descending a narrow stairway into the basement and walking to the end of an even narrower corridor, I emerge in a small auditorium. Only a clock adorns its whitewashed walls, and a U.S. flag stands guard next to the miniature stage. The presenter's hurdy gurdy is cool, but the cookies are fantastic. Perfectly sized and apparently fresh, they're soft, melty and scrumptious. It's no square meal, but they're a wonderful treat to nibble on while sipping coffee and listening to music about the impending apocalypse.
A Conversation with Bernard Kornblum, Part of Symposium on Eero Saarinen
Place: Bell Auditorium and Rapson Hall, University of Minnesota, Mpls.
Time: 6:54 p.m. Oct. 10.
Gist: Architects' answer to Willy Wonka. After the talk we all file across the street to a dessert reception hosted by the American Institute of Architects and the university. Luscious chocolate and carrot cakes sit atop pedestals overlooking baklava, cheesecake squares, éclairs, cream puffs and golden mounds of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. More than eight varieties of cheese, each one carefully labeled, sit in the center. The cheeses are divine, the sweets decadent and the wine bounteous. Architecture can definitely be arty, but this professional outlay is a league apart from your usual nonprofit.
Pilot Arts Group Show
Place: 801 Washington Lofts, Mpls.
Time: 6:19 p.m., Oct. 11.
Gist: A visual and gustable mish-mash. 801 Lofts' industrial-chic gallery is really just a hallway with exposed beams and brick walls. It's nice, though, to be able to wander in front of the paintings and at least look like I'm doing more than stuffing my face with spanakopita, curried dal, crackers, walnuts, dipping sauces and more cream puffs, brownies and fruit. After trying, once again, to gracefully eat roasted asparagus and slabs of bell pepper, I have to say it's impossible. They are messy and awkward and should not be served at a cocktail party. I move on to baguette slices doused with a rich, creamy mushroom sauce. They seem to have concocted enough dishes to represent each of the nine artists present, so there's plenty of both food and art, if a bit disjointed.
Altogether I attended 33 events over two weeks. Early on I had to give up trying to survive solely on the free fare. The arts scene just wasn't that saturated. Weekends were busy and many weeknights had something promising, but weekdays were often empty. I was disappointed to not find any free theater or popular music events with food, and rarely any free dance. And I forsook powerhouses such as the Guthrie and the Walker; when they do host something for free, there's no buffet.
Scoring a good meal was unpredictable. Some studios at the St. Paul Art Crawl had Twizzlers and pretzels for snacking, others didn't. Churches and libraries could be depended on for cookies and coffee. But there were no edibles at the Weinstein Gallery, Minneapolis College of Art and Design, Macalester College, Magers & Quinn or the MacPhail School of Music.
The successes were heartening. Private galleries consistently provided interesting, plentiful food. Perhaps because they're trying to get you to spend several hundred dollars on obscure artists, all the galleries offered at the very least a good bar. Should all else fail, there's always the U of M. If you can put up with jargon-laden speeches and undergraduates, there's some kind of event accompanied by food nearly every day.
Of course, there will be exceptions to my two-week experience. But if you choose your events wisely, you can make a night of it without spending a dime.
