The iconic Grain Belt Beer sign, originally erected in 1941 along the Mississippi River near Nicollet Island, has been a Minneapolis landmark for decades. Once a symbol of the city’s brewing heritage, the neon sign went dark in 1975 after the brewery changed ownership. In 2017, the sign was fully restored by the August Schell Brewing Company, once again lighting up the skyline and preserving its status as a historic and beloved emblem of Minneapolis’s industrial past. Today, it remains a vibrant reminder of the city’s rich cultural and brewing history.
Landmarks play a crucial role in defining a city’s visual identity and are often the most photographed tourist attractions. However, capturing them in an interesting way can be quite challenging. In Minneapolis, a few landmarks stand out, with the Stone Arch Bridge and the Spoonbridge Sculpture being among the most iconic. Near the top of this list is also the Grain Belt Sign, prominently visible from Nicollet Island and the Hennepin Bridge.
I’ve been living in Downtown Minneapolis for a year now, so I spend a good amount of time walking along the river and crossing the downtown bridges. I remember in my first month I came across a group of photographers who looked to be on a tour of some sort perched along the river waiting for the sunset views of the sign, probably waiting to catch the moment the lights turned on.
I wondered to myself how I would go about photographing the sign beyond that perspective and in a more systematic documentary manner. Then under my breath I asked, “how do you photograph the Grain Belt Sign?”
Of course, a quick Google Image search will provide a nice overview of the typical perspective.
Since I live nearby, I attempt to answer this question for myself without too much physical difficulty. From a documentary photography perspective, it made me think about how we go about documenting city landmarks, especially over a long period of time as a type of ritual. As I’ve mentioned in my previous articles, part of my photography involves photographing locations multiple times across months and years.
In fact, I knew I already had one photograph of the sign in my archive. It dates back to October 24, 2013. I was visiting Minneapolis from New York City for a wedding. I flew in, jumped on the Blue Line into Downtown, where I proceeded to walk to the hotel in Northeast.
Sometimes a photograph is just a note to your future self, a reminder about an idea or location. Now that I had my starting point, it was time to see if I could answer the question.
On June 6, 2024, I took my regular after-work walk and brought my camera. I liked the light, which is one of the first elements I am always going to think about. It was a partly cloudy day but the light was nice so I knew this was my chance. I made the above photograph as my first effort. The plan was to find a few different perspectives, hoping to see what I could learn in the compositions.
Since pedestrian infrastructure is a key part of subject matter, I wanted to see if I could work that into the composition. It wouldn’t be too difficult since this is one of the best pedestrian corridors Downtown. Now I felt I was getting somewhere. Layering the elements was definitely the strategy. But maybe I was too close. Let’s move back.
Frames within a frame is standard compositional tactic. In the above photo, the sign lined up nicely through this odd little plaza on the backend of the Federal Reserve. The brick patterning adds another layer but I wasn’t sure this was the angle so I went back in closer.
In the above photo, I spotted what I was looking for in a composition. The nice afternoon light, the frame within a frame, and pedestrian infrastructure. Add in the greenery and it all comes together, at least for this day.
The next encounter with the sign was a few days later, on June 9. In the above photo, what caught my attention was the junior tree making its roots across from the sign. I’ve been taking a few photographs of new trees when I come across them. I’m not fully committed to the project yet but these sketches give me something to think about.
As I walked under the bridge, I knew I couldn’t pass up the nice light and reflection. People love to photograph under bridges. It’s a cool perspective and cuts up the frame in interesting ways. They are enormous pieces of infrastructure, and are sometimes very weird looking.
It’d be a few weeks before the next photographs. At the end of a morning walk, I took the Hennepin Bridge back into Downtown and decided I needed to try a photograph from the closer angle on the bridge. I like the changing perspectives from the bridge as you move further away. Bridges provide you with these interesting, clear sight lines and often the perspective feels distorted because of the massive size of the structure you’re walking on.
I was starting to feel good about the variety of angles on the sign I was collecting. But I knew there was more to explore on the steps up to the Hennepin Bridge. A few days later, on July 12, while walking up the steps I made the above photograph which I feel compliments the other version incorporating the steps. I will probably keep trying new angles over time or make photographs from the same spot during different seasons.
Of course, that means trying at night. It was about two months later, on September 15 that I finally made a night walk and made the above photo.
The night reflection of the sign in the Mississippi is probably what a lot of photographers are going after when they set up their tripods. It’s a fun effect, especially under the bridge.
A few weeks later, I took out the tripod to make some long exposures and was able to make the photo above, which was about the exact spot where I’d first encountered the group of photographers earlier in the year. I suppose it would make sense for me to find a similar group and see if I can join them next time.
I knew I was still missing a few perspectives, especially from behind the sign on Nicollet Island. A few days before the night photo, on September 27, I took a walk around the river and photographed the sign from behind.
I appreciate the perspective from behind the sign because it makes it an anonymous structure if you don’t know the history or what you’re looking at. It just seems like a big sign, but what’s on it?
For a moment, I thought it would be cool to have some type of observation platform around it. It would be cool to sit at the base during sunset and then there would be all sort of new photos with people waving from the sign to the photographers on the other side. At this point, I started to feel my 360-degree strategy was the way to go. Of course, seasons will change the perspective and colors as well. Winter will be interesting to continue.
I felt I still hadn’t made a photograph that felt uniquely like my own. Then while I was walking back up on the Hennepin Ave. Bridge at dusk, I saw a couple of people in a canoe silhouetted as the rowed on the river.
In the above photo, I framed the sign to the right and tried to bring the composition together. At that point, I felt I was finally on my way. I started to think about how people interact with the sign in the landscape. Adding the candid human element was the next step.
As I was working on this article, I thought I had made the last photograph, but then on a late afternoon walk a week ago, I found myself again by the river approaching the sign. I knew I couldn’t pass up another opportunity to make one more photograph.
Recently, I’ve been working on a series of candid photographs of cyclists on the move through the city. As I approached the park, I saw a few cyclists whiz by, so I thought this would be my chance to take one last photo of the Grain Belt sign in the distance.
In a quick burst, I was able to make the above photograph with the cyclists and joggers silhouetted against the magic hour light on the sign. This one felt like the photograph I’d probably trying to make all along. Photography is often a game of trial and error, one that rewards you if you have the patience to keep pushing yourself.
For most other people, it’s probably not about making an original photograph of the sign. It’s about making their own version of it so they can collectively share in documenting their story in the city. I would love to see other interpretations and share them on the Streets.mn Instagram. I’d be curious to see the full spectrum of photographs from all angles, seasons and different styles. I’m sure there are plenty of paintings, drawings and videos as well.
I’m certain I’ll continue to photograph the sign, perhaps next in the dead of winter after a snowstorm to create a noticeable divergence in the landscape.
All photos by Bryan Formhals