When I decided to relocate to Downtown Minneapolis last August, part of my motivation was to pursue a photography project. Up to that point, I had never lived in the downtown of any metropolis, largely because it was practically impossible during my 12 years in New York City. In Minneapolis, however, thanks to the booming residential construction of the past decade and my good fortune to work remotely while living a car-free life, I was able to fit it into my budget.
I spent the first few months, including winter, building my walking routes and thinking about how I wanted to approach making photographs. Pedestrian infrastructure and urban greenery are consistent themes in my projects, so I had a good sense of direction. However, the ideas tend to arrive once I start visiting locations repeatedly and learning which parts of the geography entice me visually.
After the spring rains, it was impossible not to notice the greenery. I knew this was where I wanted to start, so I set out to document the green spaces, parks, paths and interesting trees. The greenery is all around Downtown, and I’m particularly interested in what I call “idiosyncratic green spaces” — a term that may seem ambiguous. After all, what I consider idiosyncratic, another person might find common. The subjectivity of the term allows for a personal interpretation. For me, these are the green spaces we might overlook or find in less-than-idyllic locations. Think of the green spaces that align with freeway infrastructure, for example.
Once I started making photographs, I began to wonder about the tree canopy. A quick Google search led me to a fascinating map of the tree canopy in Minneapolis by neighborhood, which was created as part of a University of Minnesota tree mapping study. As you can see from the map, downtown — unsurprisingly — has the lowest percentage of tree canopy in the entire city. For me, this makes the greenery that does exist even more interesting and perhaps more important, to document.
For the sake of this project, my definition of ‘Downtown’ includes North Loop, Loring Park, Main Street and the West Bank. I know this expands the geography beyond what might be technically considered Downtown, but in my psychogeographic world, they are all part of the Downtown Minneapolis experience.
I tend to photograph first thing in the morning — not necessarily at sunrise, but usually I’m out the door by 8 a.m. I’m generally off work by 5 p.m., so if the light is nice, I’ll often spend an hour walking around and making photographs. Some days, you get lucky with that amazing golden hour light, and downtown often rewards you with brilliant reflections off the glass skyscrapers, which create dramatic, long shafts of light. However, I don’t photograph only when it’s sunny. I’m an equal-opportunity photographer when it comes to the weather, though I generally don’t enjoy taking photographs at night or during inclement weather.
For the following photographs, I’ll provide the locations and share why I’m focusing on these areas. I plan to visit many of them repeatedly, so as a project this will likely have many interlocking branches.
The Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, part of Walker Art Center, is one of my favorite public spaces in the city. I’m captivated by how public art can visually transform the landscape. I often take the route through Loring Park, crossing Siah Armajani‘s Irene Hixon Whitney Bridge (1988) into the garden. This bridge is a remarkable piece of public art, and as someone who is fascinated by both pedestrian infrastructure and art, crossing it is an incredible experience every time, even with the roar of cars from I-94 below.
As the canopy map above illustrates, there aren’t many trees in the downtown core or warehouse district. Walking on the sidewalk next to the Target Center along Sixth Street always makes me feel that this area holds the potential for a unique public space — if only the city had the vision to close it off to traffic. This entire area could become a vibrant public space. Perhaps the line of trees on Sixth Street will one day witness this transformation.
The Mississippi riverfront is one of the few areas downtown with abundant trees and excellent pedestrian and bike infrastructure. Crossing the Third Avenue and Hennepin Avenue bridges offers a wonderful, expansive view of these spaces. I’ll continue to explore and photograph the entire riverfront, capturing the views that many of us enjoy on our strolls or bike rides.
The landscaping around the Convention Center includes a few intriguing green spaces, such as this one with an unusual stone path shortcut that seems to serve no practical purpose — which is exactly why I love it. Every time I walk in this direction, I take this mini-shortcut.
Walking downtown during the late afternoon, a near golden hour, often reveals brilliant shafts of light that sculpt scenes in intriguing ways, like a beautiful natural spotlight. Living on Eighth Street, I pass the Minneapolis Club many times a week, if not daily, but it’s only in that magical, late afternoon light that the tree on the corner truly shines as the star of the show.
The landscaping around commercial properties creates an interesting contrast with the greenery of public spaces. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. At 100 Washington Square, an intriguing rock garden and path run under the skyway, making for an interesting shortcut when walking around the Mill District.
Transit stations and bus stops are a subject I’ve considered documenting for years. Bus stop benches are often the only places to sit for blocks on end. I’ll often take a seat to catch my breath and take in the perspective of a bus rider.
On an early walk after moving downtown, I found myself wandering down North Fifth Street past Target Field. The Fourth Street viaduct looms large over the area, providing cover for additional surface parking for Twins games. Standing tall at the corner of North Fifth Street and North Eighth Avenue is a magnificent tree in what appears to be a school bus parking lot. Since that first walk, I’ve returned many times, capturing new photographs with each visit. I often wonder how long it will be before this entire area is transformed. During my research, I discovered that Bassett Creek runs directly beneath it, sparking a new fascination with one of the city’s most important waterways.
The surface parking lot across from the Warehouse District light rail stop baffles me. This entire block is one of those pockets in Downtown that, on paper, should be a prime location for a thriving hub. I don’t find parking lots particularly interesting to photograph since they are prime carspace but this year I’ve started to pay more attention to the few trees and shrubs that pop up around the periphery. I’ve nicknamed the tree on the corner here the “Dylan Tree,” as it gazes upon the giant Bob Dylan mural on the opposite side of the street.
I get excited when I spot greenery in seemingly impossible locations, like medians. I’ve always loved how plants and shrubs will grow anywhere if they have sunlight and water. It’s fascinating how Minneapolitans invest resources in beautifying these spots, which are essentially impossible to interact with beyond a fleeting glimpse as you pass by. Unless, of course, you happen to be on foot or bicycle.
Before moving Downtown, I studied Google Maps to get a sense of the nearby green spaces. Triangle Park caught my attention because of its location and fitting name. I don’t often see anyone hanging out in the park when I walk by, likely due to its location. It’s not a destination park, and few residential buildings are immediately nearby.
The green spaces along I-394 in the North Loop make me imagine a future where this area is transformed into a park. It’s right in the heart of one of the city’s most vibrant and walkable neighborhoods.
One of the series I’m working on focuses on the Fourth Street viaduct and its surrounding environment. I’m intrigued by how the green spaces integrate into the concrete tapestry of the landscape. These massive elevated freeways are imposing structures that inject an aggressive, hostile atmosphere into their surroundings.
Samatar Crossing is a functional pedestrian bridge that spans I-35W in Downtown East. It leads into Cedar-Riverside and offers some of the best views of Riverside Plaza.
Benches are a rarity Downtown, but you can find them on a few blocks. On Eighth Street, efforts to add more greenery to the wider sidewalks have made a noticeable difference in the pedestrian experience. I feel calmer and more protected from passing cars. However, sitting right next to oncoming traffic doesn’t seem all that pleasant. Why do we do this?
Sometimes it feels like some of the best stretches of sidewalks with greenery are wasted in areas with little foot traffic. I stood on the corner of North 10th Avenue and North Second Street for about 15 minutes on a Saturday afternoon without encountering another pedestrian.
A few months ago, someone on X (formerly Twitter) shared photos of the Blacksmith House, which the Star Tribune called an “urban castle” in this article about a brewery backing out of a lease for the space. After learning a bit about its background, I started taking photographs every time I walked past it because you don’t encounter too many urban castles while out on a walk.
In Elliot Park, just off Chicago Avenue, a fantastic desire path leads to the D Line Bus Rapid Transit (BRT) station. The logic of these desire paths always brings a smile to my face when I’m out photographing. I love how pedestrians and cyclists create their own infrastructure. These paths are truly one of the most unique elements of our overall pedestrian and bike network.
The section of Lyndale Avenue running along I-94 from Loring Park to Franklin Avenue is one of those hostile corridors you want to escape as quickly as possible. It’s not a pleasant walk, yet it offers some interesting perspectives of green spaces. For that reason, I’m often drawn to these areas despite the anxiety they usually provoke. When I feel these contradictory impulses while walking public spaces, I know there’s something worth exploring and observing.
Washington Avenue is one of the most hostile streets downtown. It’s unfortunate because it has so much vibrancy around it; and yet the city has dedicated so much space to cars just passing through. I have no doubt it will undergo a major redesign once we come to our senses as urban dwellers. While the medians do sport some nice greenery, I do not recommend walking through them to get a photograph. Leave that to me!
The Loon Mural appears in many photos because it’s so prominently visible from both the light rail and the Hiawatha Trail. It’s a fascinating public space with some wild greenery that I’ve been photographing throughout the summer.
I frequently walk by this small tree in front of the entrance to a parking ramp on Fourth Avenue. It’s an odd location to plant a tree, as I suspect it might become problematic if it gets too big. For now, I’ll keep photographing it and see how long it can survive its fate.
The Prince Mural is one of the iconic spots along First Avenue, and right across the street is an amazing pair of trees. I love this location because it’s also adjacent to the Ramp A/Seventh Street transit center. One can imagine this entire area being pedestrianized in the future, with crowds of people taking selfies with the mural. I hope the two trees will still be around as well. Perhaps they can become a different type of urban icon.
What’s Next?
There are certainly more locations to be photographed, so this is only the start. I typically spend a few months editing and reviewing a new batch of photographs to help me better understand what has caught my interest. It’s a time of reflection before moving onto the next phase of the project, which will likely involve photographing many of these locations again during the winter, when the green has disappeared and the scenes are dominated by the gray and white of winter.
Photos courtesy of Bryan Formhals.