I'd like that framed, Your Honor.
January 18, 2006 - 02:11.
Glitzy galleries in New York, California, Arizona, take note: Judge Lynn Olson would like you to approach the bench and explain why a person has to pay more than a few hundred dollars just to hang something inspiring on the wall.
Not long retired from the Anoka County bench, Lynn has transitioned from the realm of law and order to the relative chaos of the art world by joining her husband, Frank Stone, in the gallery business. She spoke after dinner Monday evening at the Woman’s Club of Minneapolis.
“I had three goals in my life,” Lynn said. “See the world. Do some good. And never do anything just for the money.”
Solo travels and a stint in the Peace Corps showed her the world. Her career in social work, then law and justice improved lives and even saved them. Now a gallery owner (which no one does for the money) she is fervently supporting local artists as well as artists from Mississippi Delta who lost everything in Hurricane Katrina.
To read a Star Tribune article on the art rescue mission, click here.
Frank Stone Gallery, open only on weekends, boasts a little bit of everything you might want to live with: paintings, drawings, sculpture, ceramics, textiles, collages and “found objects,” as well as husband Frank’s stained glass works and metal sculptures. Right now there are pieces from Biloxi, Mississippi, and the remnants of work that was saved from Bay St. Louis.
“Bay St. Louis was an artist colony,” Lynn said. “There were nine galleries before the hurricane. Now there is one.” Woman’s Club “Evening Edition” event organizer and attorney Gail Weber purchased a painting on the spot by one of the artists whose work is on display at Frank Stone. I’m sure I saw a glint of envy in several sets of eyes in the packed dining room, and I’m equally sure some of the women in attendance will be making their way to the Northeast Arts District by the weekend. “We’ll keep those pieces up until they’re gone,” Lynn said.
My favorite anecdote of the night was the story of Lynn and Frank’s unlikely pairing. She was the tenth woman in the State of Minnesota to become a judge—well paid, well traveled, on the A-list. He grew up on a turkey farm outside of Anoka and makes large, heavy objects out of bronze. They traveled to Brazil together, blew all of their (well, her) money, and then found “a funny little afterthought of a building” in which to locate the original Frank Stone Gallery. They have since moved to a larger space next door at 2nd Street and 13th Avenue NE in Minneapolis, and seem destined to live happily ever after.