Walking through the skyways recently, I spied a pile of pamphlets stacked outside a City Center storefront. I crouched down to skim the words "Goethe-Institut" printed in small letters. Then I peered into the shop itself, where two video screens featured aerial shots of Stalinist architecture. Wait, was I still in Minneapolis? Or somewhere over the Atlantic?
"People are on such a mission" when they pass through the skyways, said Sandra Teitge, the German curator behind this unusual downtown Minneapolis spot. "You have to stage something quite dramatic in this space to interrupt their flow or mission of getting to the office, lunch or a meeting."
Goethe in the Skyways is a pop-up gallery designed to shake up the skyway ecosystem, one interactive art exhibition at a time. Sponsored by a consortium of German institutions — the nonprofit Goethe-Institut, the government-run German Foreign Office and the Federation of German Industries (BDI), which represents the interests of trade associations and companies — the gallery marks the "year of German-American friendship" with monthlong residencies and exhibitions, with most artists hailing from Berlin's hot art scene.
The gallery launched in October with works by the artistic/documentary duo Korpys/Löffler, borrowing filmmaking techniques from the modern surveillance state. Then came an eye-catching exhibition of colorful posters by Minneapolis artists for the 2018 midterms. In November, Berlin's Franziska Pierwoss visited the space to set up dramatic Hollywood lighting for a reality TV shoot starring three Minnesota families and their candid observations about the Thanksgiving holiday.
Currently, the Berlin-based, South Ukrainian-born Anton Kats is turning the gallery into a radio station/recording studio. Inspired by family members who served as WWII wireless radio operators, Kats plans to stage open rehearsals with Minneapolis musicians, eventually producing vinyl recordings of their work together.
"I really like transitional spaces," Kats said recently, seated at a table in the minimalist gallery space. "Mostly I appreciate that [the skyways] have a randomness to them."
Why the skyways
Born in Soviet-controlled East Berlin, Teitge is no stranger to Minneapolis. The independent curator landed here in 2013 when her husband, Wiley Hoard, accepted a job in the city (Hoard is a grandson of the late John Cowles Jr., former publisher and chairman of the Star Tribune).
"It was the hardest move I had ever made," Teitge recalled. "I found Minneapolis to be an extremely difficult place to infiltrate, a hard nut to crack. People are very reserved."