|Hennepin History Museum,|
Anyway, it was also populated by other unemployed people: schoolchildren. Droves of kids in their single-digit years, mobbed and marked by monochromatic ID t-shirts, ran excitedly up the stairs and listened disinterestedly to old adults who forgot how to speak to children. When I'd had enough of this, I went back to the Hennepin History Museum.
|"Cool yer jets, Towser, I'm tryin' ta|
say goodbye ta all da nice kiddies!"
On his own, however, William painted "a garageful" of portraits depicting his vision of otherworldly demons. In a strange and earnest oeuvre he represented the royalty of demonic court and festivities, rendering these extraplanar beings with what reminds one of Thai or Japanese influence. Himself, he did not consider these paintings much more than a lark, being more praiseworthy (and surprisingly self-congratulatory) on his natural setting and still-life work.
Those portraits are not featured. It's all demons, all the time, at the Hennepin History Museum since September.
My favorite is the children's exhibit, what childhood looked like and was stocked with at the turn of the century and since. It's interesting to me to see what binds us across the channels of time, what fascinations and basic necessities endure and manifest to suit the era, time and time again. Toys would be one of those things, and among the pictures of joyless entrepreneurs attempting to sell bags of acorns, decked in the headgear of their nations of origin, there's an irresistible sweetness that hasn't lost its life after all this time.
If you've got five bucks and a free hour, and if want to feel like a part of the city in which you live, all good Minneapolitans will take a little time out to patronize the Hennepin History Museum and brace themselves for the unexpected, the dazzling, and the delightful.