Less-than-Grand Avenue Mall

We stop at the downtown Grand Avenue Mall. The mall has become a tomb.

Built while I was in college, the mall received a lot of local media buzz. Connecting Boston Store and Gimbels under a single roof, the new mall would leave the historical architecture of the Plankinton Arcade intact. The developers wanted the new mall to evoke the days of Grand Avenue, before the street was renamed Wisconsin Avenue. Back in those days, women in bustles with umbrellas strolled with their beaus or husbands down Grand Avenue in their Sunday best.

The current Grand Avenue failed to achieve the planned grandeur. Despite a downtown nightlife resurgence in the late 1980s that continues today, the mall never drew large numbers of downtown shoppers. People go downtown for shows at the remodeled Riverside Theater, the historic Pabst Theater or the Performing Arts Center (now the Marcus center). People eat at Mo’s—A Place for Steaks, drink at Elsa’s on the Park and other watering holes along Water Street or Jefferson Street. But shop? Why shop downtown?

Grand Avenue Mall never housed great stores, not funky boutiques like on Brady Street or upscale shops like in Mequon. Grand Avenue could never compete with spacious suburban malls like Mayfair and Southridge.

A few years ago, large lower-end stores—TJ Maxx, Old Navy, Linens N Things-- moved in, encroaching on spaces designed as walkways. TJ Maxx and Linens were like open-air markets, in a bad sense.

So much of the mall is shuttered now. We walk through, horrified and sad. Stores that you never thought would go away like The Confectioner are gone. Many facades are covered with mirrors to disguise the abandonment.

Kunichika Silkscreen

My friend Nigel Robson created this silkscreen by hand, a copy of an original woodblock print by the Japanese artist, Toyohara Kunichika, circa 1875. He portrays Kabuki actor Ichikawa Sadanji. In Nigel's own words:

The menacing mien is a standard feature of kabuki and the famous actors each had their trademark expressions. . . . this is the best print I ever did from a technical standpoint (and believe me, I did many) . The toothpick is the most intricate stencil cutting I ever executed as it involved cutting razor fine lines with a No. 11 surgical scalpel. I honestly have difficulty believing that I did it when I see them today.

The Ronin Gallery in midtown New York is exhibiting 36 Kunichika woodblock prints, all of famous Kabuki artists of his time.

Fat Abbey's Bier Cafe

It is early Saturday evening in Milwaukee and we meet our friends L. and M. at the Fat Abbey Bier Café, 134 E Juneau, at Juneau and the river. Fat Abbey’s is a new Irish bar across from a triumvirate of Irish bars, both across from the Milwaukee landmark, The Harp.

We will run into two bachelorette parties on this warm August night.

The first batch of girls—a sedate, sober group with some moms along for the ride—are sitting at a long wooden picnic table on the patio. We sit outside under a Delirium Tremens umbrella at first, but the sun is still hot so we move inside.

We all drank beers, even me. Fat Abbey’s has a beer list to be proud of. Trocadero White, a local microbrew, is tasty—wheaty like I like. Gene, M and L tried several, one called Fat Tire and another, Maredsous.

Now the moms have left and the Fat Abbey girls move inside. They liven up a bit, but this party has little steam.

We cross the street to the trinity of Irish bars, inspecting them all before selecting Foy. We sit in a tall wooden booth and share corned beef nachos and a veggie-hummus platter. I remember this weekend is Irish Fest in Milwaukee, the largest and best Irish festival in the United States. I wonder why all these new Irish bars are opening in this very German town. Love of beer must be the unifying factor.

From the window of L and M’s car, we see the second bachelorette party. These girls know how to party. They traipse down the street, all wearing little black cocktail dresses. They have made several stops already tonight. Gene asks me if girls wear underwear in Milwaukee and I assure him that most of them do. What prompts the question, I ask.

We end the night at The Pfister’s top floor bar, Blu, on the 23^rd floor of the hotel. Stunning 360 views of the city, but we can’t find a seat around the perimeter of the room. We sit at the bar and listen to the jazz combo. I wonder about two women sitting at the bar, overdressed and bored.

Bronze Fonz Charms Milwaukee

Erv, the bartender at Miss Katies, talks about when the cast of Happy Days dropped in on the diner. (Mrs C. has held up the best, said Erv.) The cast—minus Ron Howard—hit town for the dedication of the Bronze Fonz statue last August.

Milwaukee tried for years to play down its reputation as the fictional home of the Cunninghams and Laverne and Shirley. People resented the beer-town image of Milwaukee portrayed by the shows, particularly Laverne & Shirley. So no surprise that the proposed Bronze Fonz kicked up some local controversy--a couple of art galleries threatened to close if the statue was installed.

In the end, time and celebrity visitors turn the shame into pride. The unveiling as described by onmilwaukee.com:

They came to see the Fonz. They lined the Wells Street bridge. They lined the Riverwalk across the river and south of the ceremony on the river's left bank. They watched from windows, terraces and rooftops and they watched from pontoon boats on the river, itself.

Fans lined up along Wells Street to the east of the river, where they couldn't even get a glimpse as actor Henry Winkler and sculptor Gerald Sawyer unveiled the much-discussed Bronz Fonz Tuesday morning in Downtown Milwaukee.

The spokesman of Visit Milwaukee, the group raising the money for the installation defended the decision in a jsonline.com article:

"This isn't a statue of 'Laverne and Shirley,' " [the spokesman] said. "This is a statue of a TV icon who remains the epitome of cool."