The first I’d heard of the Art Shanty Projects was from a coworker. He compared the event’s striking similarity to another, as he put it, hippy nightmare.
“It’s like Burning Man,” he said, his eyes wild but dead serious. “On ice!”
Despite his warning, I was undeterred.
As a recent transplant, I was eager to take Minnesota’s legendary winters head-on. And the Art Shanty Projects—hippy shit or no—sounded like an excellent excuse to brave winter’s worst for ridiculous fun on a deadly lake.
The Art Shanty Projects is a four-weekend experimental winter art program. It’s held on a frozen lake in Minneapolis—lake Bdé Umáŋ (Lake Harriet). Occasionally the ice is thin and the shanties are moved on shore. The event is built and operated by a dedicated team of artisans, performers and volunteers. Magically, it is free to attend, but donations are encouraged.
An Art Shanty can be many things. Usually, it’s a small structure that hosts interactive art experiences and performances. But the activities at the Art Shanties aren’t confined to the structures.
One year I saw a professional figure skating demonstration. (Of course I took plenty of photos.) There’s been sled racing, a kite flying festival and, of course, yoga. Or (ungh) snow-ga.
One of my favorite attractions was a towering structure of white-painted scaffolding dangling a clutter of mirrors and multi-colored plastic shapes that spun in the breeze. The dazzling, large-scale mobile caught the oppressive sunshine and shattered it to a fractaled kaleidoscope of color and scattershot reflections. (My eyes!) Convulsing against the stuttering light, I wondered how many people succumbed to seizures in this flamboyant hut-of-mirrors.
We were there for a long time. It was incredible! I wondered how this attraction was not more popular than the others? And yet there was no line. My daughter and I had simply sashayed our way inside.
Finally, dizzy and blindly blinking, we left the hut-of-mirrors. It was only then I noticed we were exiting from the entrance. (We’d gone in the wrong way!)
And as we left the entrance we were suddenly confronted by an exceptionally long line of pissed-off people who’d all been fuming, watching us frolicking in the shanty. They scowled at us venomously. Their kids whining about their frozen toes.
Another hut was a seeming junkheap of bike parts. There were old pots and pans, and other nicknacks which visitors were encouraged to beat on with a selection of mallets and drumsticks. There was a sauna titled, “Minnesauna.” One of my favorite installations was the Art Shanty thrift store with racks and shelves of clothes and trinkets free for the taking, buying or trading. I’ve never actually bought anything from the Art Shanty thrift store. But how often do you get the chance to peruse a rack of used clothes in the middle of a frozen lake?
Oddly, only a few attendees thought to wear crampons on their shoes. The ice is often exposed and obviously very slippery. So most everyone is navigating the slick ice with an ugly, top-heavy walk their arms-out in a funny sort of flat-foot shuffle. It’s difficult not to laugh at this sight, to see so many grown adults mincing about and falling on their ass is chaotic slapstick.
It’s not all fun and games at the Art Shanty Projects. There’s that loathsome parking lot: woefully inadequate for the teeming throngs who descend on Bdé Umáŋ every winter. They circle like blood-hungry sharks for parking in a lot so obnoxiously cramped, it makes the Trader Joe’s lots seem expansive. Also, out there in the middle of the lake, it can be bitterly cold. Dangerously cold at times. And attendees must ignore, or at least, not mind how only a thin layer of ice is all that separates them from the deadly black waters just below their feet.
Still, spirits are high. Everyone is clearly having a good and ridiculous time. The attendees at the Art Shanty Projects are a special group who seem to share an enthusiasm for cold—a key sensibility to living in and loving the most beautiful state in the nation. Though maybe enthusiasm is too strong a word for Minnesotans. Rather, a truce, or coming-to-terms with our magnificent winters.
It’s early February now, this is the last weekend for the 2025 Art Shanty Projects. We’re heading out there tomorrow for another fun-filled day on the ice. There are only a couple months of winter left to pack in as much of Minnesota’s most elegant season as possible. Before the cold snaps and we’re made to suffer through another goddamn miserable summer until, at long last, we can accessorize once again.