Field Guide: From our Education & Community Programs department, an evolving guidebook navigating the expanded terrain of art and creative life.
Asking Art: Global Change
Every four years, the September energy of a new school year coincides with political intensity leading up to national elections. Influenced by this moment and last night’s opening of The Living Years, we’re drumming up conversation about art and global change. Educators—we’re inviting you to share your insights into this topic by mining ArtsConnectEd. Through [...]
Every four years, the September energy of a new school year coincides with political intensity leading up to national elections. Influenced by this moment and last night’s opening of The Living Years, we’re drumming up conversation about art and global change. Educators—we’re inviting you to share your insights into this topic by mining ArtsConnectEd.
Through the month of September, educators participating in Asking Art (details here) will receive one complimentary gallery pass for two adults. To participate, begin at ArtsConnectEd’s Art Finder. Ponder these questions from any angle—economic, political, environmental, societal, informational, technological, etc.:
When you think of global change, what artwork comes to mind?
How are artists making art that investigates our complex world and offers ways to reflect on globalism?
We believe that exercises such as this “asking art” prompt can help us as educators teach a generation of informed global citizens. Educators, join us in this conversational exploration.
Phenology Report: The Future Generation of American Toads
Phenology doesn’t take a vacation, but I do. But before this Phenologist-in-Residence migrates north for two weeks of relaxation, I wanted to share this video chronology. I believe these are American Toads and for now they live in the pond near Spoonbridge and Cherry. Will they hop away before my return in July? And what [...]
Phenology doesn’t take a vacation, but I do. But before this Phenologist-in-Residence migrates north for two weeks of relaxation, I wanted to share this video chronology. I believe these are American Toads and for now they live in the pond near Spoonbridge and Cherry. Will they hop away before my return in July? And what other day-by-day changes will transform the Sculpture Garden & Open Field?
May 15:
May 21:
May 25:
June 8:
June 12:
In conjunction with Open Field, I’ll be posting a series of reports that examine Open Field and the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden through the lens of phenology. The lens of what now? Phenology refers to recurring life cycle stages, such as leafing and flowering, emergence of insects, and migration of birds. As an amateur naturalist and the Open Field Phenologist-in-Residence, it’s my privilege to observe, document, and share the sequence of natural events as it unfolds on the Walker campus. Read the Twitter chronicle so far @OpenPhenology: twitter.com/openphenology.
Phenology Report: Know Your Grackle Vernacular
There’s such a flurry of spring phenomena that it can be tricky picking a focus. But bird behavior is as good a place to start as anywhere. Morning visitors to the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden will witness the heavy air traffic of Common Grackles frequenting the muddy low waters near Spoonbridge and Cherry. Watch the video [...]
There’s such a flurry of spring phenomena that it can be tricky picking a focus. But bird behavior is as good a place to start as anywhere. Morning visitors to the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden will witness the heavy air traffic of Common Grackles frequenting the muddy low waters near Spoonbridge and Cherry. Watch the video below and tell me that soggy clump of plant matter doesn’t look perfect for building a nest!
The grande allée’s arbor vitae and linden trees are abuzz with grackles calling and strutting. And if you’re lucky, you might witness a pair of Common Grackles performing a courtship dance!
In conjunction with Open Field, I’ll be posting a series of reports that examine Open Field and the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden through the lens of phenology. The lens of what now? Phenology refers to recurring life cycle stages, such as leafing and flowering, emergence of insects, and migration of birds. As an amateur naturalist and the Open Field Phenologist-in-Residence, it’s my privilege to observe, document, and share the sequence of natural events as it unfolds on the Walker campus.
If you’re interested in more local phenological phenomena, visit openphenology.blogspot.com. Or to learn more about the science of phenology, check out the National Phenology Network and the Minnesota Phenology Network.
Phenology Report: It’s All about Appearances
Many of us are especially aware of the natural world come spring, when new things show up every day. It’s apt, then, that the word “phenology” comes from the Greek word phaino, meaning to show or appear. Last week, my friend Rachel and I noticed little pink and yellow cones adorning the boughs of the [...]
Many of us are especially aware of the natural world come spring, when new things show up every day. It’s apt, then, that the word “phenology” comes from the Greek word phaino, meaning to show or appear. Last week, my friend Rachel and I noticed little pink and yellow cones adorning the boughs of the pine trees. I reached out and was taken by surprise by the appearance of pollen!
In conjunction with Open Field, I’ll be posting a series of reports that examine Open Field and the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden through the lens of phenology. The lens of what now? Phenology refers to recurring life cycle stages, such as leafing and flowering, emergence of insects, and migration of birds. As an amateur naturalist and the Open Field Phenologist-in-Residence, it’s my privilege to observe, document, and share the sequence of natural events as it unfolds on the Walker campus.
If you’re interested in more local phenological phenomena, visit openphenology.blogspot.com. Or to learn more about the science of phenology, check out the National Phenology Network and the Minnesota Phenology Network.
Phenology Report: Hibernation is so over!
In conjunction with Open Field, I’ll be posting a series of reports that examine Open Field and the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden through the lens of phenology. The lens of what now? Phenology refers to recurring life cycle stages, such as leafing and flowering, emergence of insects, and migration of birds. As the Open Field Phenologist-in-Residence, [...]
In conjunction with Open Field, I’ll be posting a series of reports that examine Open Field and the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden through the lens of phenology. The lens of what now? Phenology refers to recurring life cycle stages, such as leafing and flowering, emergence of insects, and migration of birds. As the Open Field Phenologist-in-Residence, it’s my privilege to observe, document, and share the sequence of natural events as it unfolds on the Walker campus.

Photo: Mnmazur, Wikimedia Commons
Hibernation is so over! For ground squirrels and people alike, we’re ready to emerge from our winter digs and stand up in the sun! On March 15, I saw my first 13-lined ground squirrel of the season. Unlike the ubiquitous gray squirrel, these smaller rodents hibernate during winter months. And now they appear to be emerging from their dens and burrows.
An attentive visitor to the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden will recognize these animals, which are frequently seen standing upright and surveying their surroundings or scampering for shelter under the arbor vitae hedges. And since these animals eat insects, you could interpret their appearance as a cue to get close to the ground and look for six-legged crawlies.
If you’re interested in more local phenological phenomena, visit openphenology.blogspot.com. Or to learn more about the science of phenology, check out the National Phenology Network at usanpn.org.
Perform Me a Picture
Who wouldn’t be curious about a place called The Museum of Everyday Life? And who wouldn’t want to know what that museum’s Chief Operating Philosopher is up to? Well, as it turned out, the woman bearing this title recently visited Minneapolis so I seized the opportunity to find out more. Last Saturday I witnessed Mild [...]
Who wouldn’t be curious about a place called The Museum of Everyday Life? And who wouldn’t want to know what that museum’s Chief Operating Philosopher is up to? Well, as it turned out, the woman bearing this title recently visited Minneapolis so I seized the opportunity to find out more.
Last Saturday I witnessed Mild Light, an evening of cantastoria performed by Clare Dolan. Ushered into the In the Heart of the Beast Theatre, I took a seat close to the stage. I was, I confess, hopeful that Dolan could clear up my ignorance surrounding this term “cantastoria.” She managed this with the gusto of a puppeteer, the elocution of a storyteller, and the insight of a philosopher.
But since I am none of these things, I’ll just lift a definition from the Web:
Cantastoria is an Italian word for the ancient performance form of picture-story recitation, which involves sung narration accompanied by reference to painted banners, scrolls, or placards. (Source: Museum of Everyday Life, Performance Department)
“Look. Listen. Observe.”
In a sing-song voice punctuated by gesture and music, Dolan urged the audience to examine the images depicted on a series of hinged canvases. This plea to look—deliberately, intentionally, and consciously look—had me hooked. It struck me what allies we have in puppeteers! As museum educators, my colleagues and I work to enliven and animate the Walker’s collections. And I believe we could learn from puppeteers, artists who expertly imbue still things with life and feeling. The show charged me with energy (and questions) to bring back to the Walker. How can storytelling and theater amplify and enrich a gallery experience? How can multi-sensory experiences make the process of interpreting images more memorable and meaningful? How do cadence, musicality, and body language transform communication and yield an impact markedly different from ordinary speech? I’ll be reflecting on the sensations of that night as I work with my colleagues to make meanings with objects, decipher stories within images, and share this process with our audiences.
What’s next for Dolan? She and her colleague Dave Buchen are organizing and curating Banners an Cranks, a festival of cantastoria performance. Curious to see for yourself right now? I recommend Dolan’s YouTube Channel.
Field Trip: Birding with Nathalie and Hans
One Tuesday morning in early September, artists Nathalie Djurberg and Hans Berg took a break from marshalling in The Parade to go birding. With binoculars at the ready, they flew the coop, accompanied by Susy Bielak and Abbie Anderson. What follows is a glimpse into their field trip, but first, a brief background on our birders.
One Tuesday morning in early September, artists Nathalie Djurberg and Hans Berg took a break from marshalling in The Parade to go birding. With binoculars at the ready, they flew the coop, accompanied by Susy Bielak and Abbie Anderson. What follows is a glimpse into their field trip, but first, a brief background on our birders. Nathalie and Hans were spending a week in Minneapolis to install their exhibition, The Parade, which includes new sculptures informed by the psychology and natural history of birds. Abbie just concluded a summer of weekly nature walks around the Walker and was eager share that experience with visiting artists. Susy, in addition to serving as photographer, interviewer, and scribe for this outing, manages public and interpretive programs at the Walker.
Our excursion began at the picnic tables as Abbie distributed binoculars and describes Open Phenology, her series of nature walks focused on observing ecological phenomena in the Walker’s vicinity.
Abbie: I’m interested in noticing the life forms around us and observing how they change through the seasons. This means looking for birds migrating, insects molting, flowers blooming, etc. These observations, in turn, are the basis for conversation and learning.

Nathalie and Hans admiring Gehry's Standing Fish
Wandering through Cowles Conservatory, the group admires Frank Gehry’s Standing Fish and commends the work of sculpture technicians who recently cleaned the glass scales, one by one.
Before spotting any avian species, Abbie gathered the group to inspect the insect world. Getting low to the ground at the water’s edge near Spoonbridge and Cherry, the group examined the exoskeletons left behind by metamorphosing dragonflies.
Abbie: See these?
Hans: Like ghosts.
Abbie: Larvae is actually Latin for ‘ghost.’
Hans [on metamorphosis]: It’s like one-day evolution.
Nathalie [clearly curious as to why an art educator takes such interest in biology]: So, what exactly do you do at the museum?
Abbie: Yes, I see what you mean. I’m a biology geek who works in an art museum. So beyond my job, which is supporting the Walker’s education and community programs, I’ve appointed myself as the Walker’s in-house amateur naturalist.
As the group marched over to Loring Park, the conversation shifted to Nathalie’s recent body of work, a veritable parade of sculpted birds (left, click to view larger image).
Susy: Why birds?
Nathalie: Before, birds were the least interesting to me—flock animals. Boring. I love animals and watch a lot of nature programs, but avoided bird programs. Then I came across David Attenborough.
Abbie: His documentary on birds of paradise?
Nathalie: Yeah, that guy!
Abbie: After watching Attenborough in Paradise, I felt like this planet is suddenly a totally different world! An astonishing place, but weird, right?
Nathalie: Yeah, though it was before that one that I got into him. And it changed how I see birds. I had no empathy for birds before. Now I really do.
Once across the Hixon Whitney bridge, we again gravitated to water, looking for birds around the pond. By the reeds we discover ducks—not only Mallards, but Wood Ducks, a regal looking waterfowl with a crested head, thin neck, and striking plumage. We spot them as we approach the pond, then peer from the bridge for a clear view. Nathalie runs with her binoculars to the water’s edge for a closer look. We follow.
Abbie [chasing after Nathalie]: I love the investigative impulse!
Abbie [catching up and training binoculars]: You can recognize the Wood Duck by size and shape as well as by its plumage.
Nathalie: Are they named after wood or the woods?
Abbie: It’s the same.
Hans: But one is a forest, ‘woods’ with an S.
Susy: Same stuff, but woods with an S is the environment, without an S is the stuff.
Abbie: Their nesting habitat is a tree cavity. Now we build boxes to help them out.
Hans: Are they rare?
Abbie: They’re not too rare, but many birds nest in dead trees, which we cut down. There’s a dead tree by my house that every morning is full of woodpeckers. It’s marvelous to see them. It’s a dead tree, but it’s living to them, because it’s full of bugs.
Nathalie [focusing her binoculars on a male Wood Duck]: Look at its eyes! They’re bright red.
Abbie: The Wood Duck is the showiest bird here.

Nathalie Djurberg, studio view of a work in progress, 2010 Courtesy the artists, Zach Feuer Gallery, New York and Giò Marconi, Milan
After this satisfying encounter, we make our way around the pond, geting back to talking about Nathalie’s sculptures.
Susy: How much of your birds come from actual birds in the world, and how much are derived from sheer imagination?
Nathalie: Most started by my looking at pictures, then really transformed in the process of making them. There were about thirty that came from my imagination. The rest were something specific at the start. Some have transformed so much I couldn’t recognize how they started.
Susy: How do you chose your birds?
Nathalie: I choose the ones I find interesting. Their personalities. How they move their heads. Their colors and patterns.
To witness the pageantry of these feathered forms with your own eyes, venture into the Walker’s Burnet Gallery—The Parade is on view through December 31. In addition to a flock of over eighty delightfully varied bird sculptures, the walls are brought to life by a selection of the artists’ claymation films and the entire space is awash in Hans’ music.
Birding and conversing with Nathalie and Hans has amplified my enjoyment of the show, which is emphatically rich and wild as it is. But after discovering a shared enthusiasm for Attenborough’s BBC documentaries, I found myself thinking, “Wouldn’t David Attenborough just have a field day here!” In a flight of fancy, I imagine a gallery tour led by Attenborough: Clad in khakis with a field guide in his vest pocket, he trains his binoculars on the multitude of exotic species. His hushed voice can hardly contain the exhilaration of catching sight of such strange birds. And lucky for us, this episode of Attenborough’s adventures doesn’t entail travel to an inaccessible tropical paradise, but unfolds in our own back yard.
—Co-authored by Abbie Anderson and Susy Bielak






