The Wake

Photo by Scott Tuska

A few hundred yards off the eastern shore and onto the frozen Medicine Lake lies a village of sorts. In a way, this village resembles the ice fishing communities that often dot the lakes during the winter. Instead of grime-covered trucks, quasi-public urination, and Coors Light cans, there are art car taxis, receptacles for empty beers, and one giant robot ride. Why hell, it is the fifth annual Art Shanty Projects!

This twist on a quintessentially Minnesotan past time presents a challenge for local artists and performers: create something that is interesting in construction and purpose while keeping spectators warm. But the primary concern for artists is the drive for interactivity. This is destination-art after all, and last year’s projects drew in over 3,000 visitors. It is the foremost goal of the Art Shanty Projects to encourage the artists to engage their audience enough to pull open the doors, walk inside, and view what they have to offer.

The Soap Factory curates the projects, so not just anyone with spare time and plywood can participate. With the help of a number of local art hubs, a general call is put out for shanty plans in the summer. These proposals then meet a deliberation by jury in the fall, when the best are culled from the pack. If an idea is one of the lucky twenty to be selected for sponsorship, the artist will be handed $700 and given about a month to build his or her very own dream shanty.

In five years, the scope of the projects has grown to reach the current cap of about 20 funded shanties. Of course, a few “squatters,” the dedicated Shanty men and women who are unfunded by the Soap Factory, always join the neighborhood. 27 bona fide art shanties are on the lake this year, with a new donation system incorporated to help diversify the funding for future projects, as many of the builders spend more than their modest stipend.

When this ice colony is finally assembled in all its quirky glory, the events commence regardless of the appallingly cold weather. However, there is a somber note to the festivities this year. Matt Zaun, a founding contributor, co-builder of the Bigloo, local artist, designer, and musician, passed away suddenly and unexpectedly in November. Art Shanty Projects 2008 are dedicated to Matt.

The Shanties and the Artists Themselves

Photo by Scott Tuska

The Wake trekked out to the Art Shanties as a two-man team on the weekend of the 25th. The weather was warm considering the subzero temperatures that courted the projects in its first two weeks. At the shoreline was the soon to be moved Art Car Taxi Shanty. Familiar grills of the summer art car parade were enlisted to taxi visitors to Shantytown, but due to insurance concerns from the county, they soon retreated to the town itself and set up for hot dog and cocoa service.

The next shanty we encountered wasn’t really a shanty at all, but more of a $31 sculpture in the shape of a fish head made of millwork, and a set of hinges. Or so said its creator, Stewart Grange, who bellyached over his creation’s constitution in lieu of the surrounding works. His only ode to interactivity was his own duct taping of beer bottles that he lay inside the sculpture where a wooden fish had hooked a miniature man. We felt obligated to contribute, but unfortunately Grange had just finished taping up his last bottle.

It was difficult not to gravitate towards the nearest shanty. It stood 16 feet tall and had attracted a legion of children around its base. It was the Giant Robot. Up to 6 kids at a time crawled up into the floating belly of the machine, which was then rocked by its builder. The children inside the chest cavity tried communicating in their best robot voices to those on the ground as we moved on.

From the robot site we crammed into the converted sauna that made up the gallery for Ye Ol’ Black Box Theatre, the smallest theatre in Shantytown. Inside, we were treated to charmingly disjointed renditions of Roger Miller’s golden hits by a stuttering clarinet, infrequent snare, and two guitars. One guitar read: Cruelly Tested on Animals. All the musicians were dressed in ragtag oater garb while the theatre itself was furnished with bookshelves, stools, and old-fashioned curtains. They encouraged us to stoke the wood burning stove and join in on the chorus. As we left the lead singer handed out his calling card: David Friedman, Sensual Jewish Man: ‘He’s got a lot to offer, and nothing to lose’.

Photo by Scott Tuska

We actually had to chase down and board the next shanty. Literally dubbed The Mobile Home, this metal-worked shanty was built atop the drive shaft and axles of a Ford F-150. The shanty is completely powered by human muscle, with the drive shaft modified to fit six sets of bicycle chains and pedals. “How fast does this thing go?” asked one rider. “How fast can you move?!” was the reply of one of the builders, manning the billiard ball-topped steering rod as we roared forward. We stopped along the cleared path, which also serves as the bike-racing course, to pick up a woman dressed as her dog, who was in turn outfitted to resemble the woman. Only a short while after these new riders we were joined by a giant man dressed as the late Evil Knieval. We rounded the course until our treasured winter gear became too miserable to wear and dismounted from the hulking shack outside one of the “squatter’s” shanties.

Here we met Maggie Evans and Paul Linden at their Woodworking Shanty, where one could do nearly anything one would do at a cabin by a lake, like play board and card games. They also taught us how to make studded bike tires as well as a thing or two about Swedish carving knives. Like many of the hardcore builders, Linden and Evans often stay overnight in their shanty.

We wandered around until the start of the BIcicle Race on Ice, where 11 bikers, including Evil, who was now perched atop a children’s bicycle, scampered around the mile long course. The contestants managed to conduct the race with only one multi-cyclist , while Mr. Knieval was forced from exhaustion to collapse upon completion of his first lap.

Photo By Scott Tuska

We then proceeded to the acrimonious Serious Undertaking Regarding Visionary Investigations into The Vital Attributes of Longevity Shanty. Apparently, this downed airplane was carrying a documentary film crew, made up of a few ex-Wakers, who are now forced to document their fight for S.U.R.V.I.V.A.L. Even being blogged about daily has done little to avail the survivors of their treacherous disposition, forcing the remaining crew to demonstrate through performances, screenings, and Survival Sunday School what it takes to stay alive in extreme circumstances. On our visit we ate some venison prepared by a makeshift poncho and blanket smoker while playing an extreme game of croquet.

Empathetic for the crew, we thought it only civil to send a letter informing loved ones of the survivors’ conditions. We therefore headed over to the Postal Shanty. Here, letters were being sent to places as far away as Germany and Nova Scotia. Hoping to combat the monotony of regular mail offices, creators Caleb Peterson and Gabe Walker kept the shanty moving with Run DMC and an assortment of Schnapps.

From the Postal Shanty we moved on to enter the chalkboard exterior of the The Medicine Lake Drawing Club. An earnest Tim Nickodemus encouraged us to make drawing log entries as he spoke of his lesson plans. Multi-hand drawings, portrait-fencing, image-fishing, and idea-stealing, as well as exquisite corpses were in order. We sketched our own feet as requested by the log and left, as all other visitors do, members of the club.

We left that day after listening to the first solar-powered act at the Ice Museum Shanty – which was, ironically, HeatdeatH – and returned on Sunday to visit the remainder of the shanties and to speak with David Pitman, one of the Art Shanty Projects’ founders.

Pitman’s shanty hosts 97.7 K-ICE, the town’s very own radio station, powered by a drive-in theatre’s mini-tower. Pitman plays music and invites anyone to join him on air to read the weather or tell stories. He asked The Wake not to focus the story on him or co-founder Peter Haaken Thompson, explaining that the real value of the projects lies with the ingenuity and dedication of the many other shanty men and women.

Walking around the town for a weekend among wandering dogs and sled riding children, we repeatedly ran into people who were overawed with the projects and wondering out loud why they hadn’t visited before, while pledging to spread the word. These were our thoughts exactly.

It is a unique combination of local talents that contribute to the growing success of this event. Marlaine Cox, a new mother and co-builder of the Shanty of Misfit Toys whose insulation consists of brand new stuffed animals that will be donated after the event, expressed the simple allure of the Art Shanty Projects: “We just love to see what crazy things people come up with.”