Memory and Desire

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.

Ah yes, the over quoted Wasteland by T. S. Eliot.

But, something happened recently that drop-kicked memory and self-reflection into high gear: I went to see “Imprints: a Photo Project by Tom Berthiaume” at the Bookmen Stacks.

60+ portraits of Minneapolis luminaries. Our local celebs, if you will. Politicians, artists, singers, impresarios. Artists and politicos. The people that shape our city. The stuff of great show. Very hip and definitely, not square. Tom's style: elegant yet without pretension. Spare. Avedon-esque, even. Tom was gracious, sincere and generous with his credit for all the contributors. Classic Berthiaume. It was a great evening for him.

The subject matter guaranteed a successful opening night party, and the place was packed. Was it the valet parking, the open bar or the fact that Tom worked with some of the biggest names in the local ad and art scene? Some of his assistants went on to start studios of their own. Young art directors climbed the ladder and ended up as VPs and Creative Directors. His client list was the Who’s Who of Minneapolis Advertising.

Me, I was just a lowly studio manager at Arndt and Berthiaume photography back in the early 80s before the studio split up. Booking models, finding props, billing, finding 4 old bathtubs to hold the booze at the annual party--all good skills for a foundation in Project Management. Too bad I didn't pay more attention to the art and craft of photography. Getting knocked up with Baby #3, aka Nora, ended my full-time studio manager career.

In the 70s, I also worked w/ Tom at the “Twin Cities Express.” An artsy newspaper he started that was a precursor to City Pages and other rags. Great fun but he hemorrhaged money. The Express later inspired our own paper, “The Revue,” when Steve and I were exiled and bored living in LaCrosse, Wisconsin. Also fun. Also a big money loser.

I was ready to see more of Tom's brilliant portraits but I was not prepared for the trip down memory lane. Faces I hadn't seen for years. Talk about stirring dull roots with spring rain--there's nothing like seeing old friends that brings emotion to the surface.

Doris! Doris was there! The people who know and love Doris could populate a small planet. She arrived the day of the opening from Italy looking gorgeous. Expatriate. Luccesian landlady.

il Mulino.

Amazing cook. And ad scene drop out. She's also one of the first people I met while I worked for Tom. Embraced me into her life and in the process became part of our family. The godmother of my youngest son, Paddy. Former business partner of my brother, Tom. Thirty years started flashing before my eyes. Too much.


















Lucky me. I've got a small collection of Berthiaume images here at home: Steve's dad, Aut. (Image from an old contact sheet.)













Steve and I taken the week his mother was dying.

















Meghan in her first communion dress. My imprints. The people who shaped my landscape. And I am grateful to have them. Here in MadgeWorld we also like to give credit where credit is due. Never again have I had a job where the entire scruffy staff took all afternoon for lunch at 510 Groveland, then went home drunk. Thanks Bert, for a great time in my life.

Listening to: Jackson Browne