A highlight of my culture vulture weekend (to recap: Bernadette with the Minnesota Orchestra, Compline at Saint Paul's on the Hill, a Juicy Lucy at The Nook) was my first trip to The Museum of Russian Art. I've been wanting to visit since it opened, have no reason for not going before now, and am thrilled that I finally did; 'tis terrific. Julie Snow, arguably the city's best-known architect, conceived a beautiful space out of the limitation of building out an old church. Of the exhibits, the strongest is the Soviet-era realist paintings of northern Russia (the textiles looking a tad home-sewn, and lacquer boxes making me want to throw things, things like lacquer boxes). I appreciate a museum with a focus small enough that I needn't spend days and days there to get a sense of it, yet ambitious enough to curate the work thoughtfully. The museum manages to do both, and has been added to my circuit of Cultural Gems Worth Visiting When It Would Be Just As Easy To Stay Home And Rent A Redbox. I commend it to you for consideration.
P.S. Never think my crooked, poorly-lit iPhone snapshots are the point of any of this. We all just need to hang tight until June, when Apple had better make good on its promise of a better camera.
