Why the Spoonbridge and Cherry Minneapolis Sculpture Still Defines the Twin Cities

Why the Spoonbridge and Cherry Minneapolis Sculpture Still Defines the Twin Cities

If you’ve ever scrolled through a traveler’s Instagram feed after they visited Minnesota, you’ve seen it. A massive, gleaming spoon. A bright red cherry. It's basically the unofficial mascot of the North. Technically, it’s called Spoonbridge and Cherry, but honestly, most locals just call it "the spoon." It sits there in the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, looking like a giant left it behind after a very strange snack. But there is a reason this specific piece of art became the face of a whole city while other, more expensive sculptures just sort of blend into the background.

It's iconic. It’s weird. It’s also surprisingly functional.

People expect art to be stuffy. They think they need a PhD to "get" it. Then they see a 52-foot spoon with a cherry on top and realize that art can just be fun. Created by the husband-and-wife duo Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen, this sculpture wasn't just plopped down as a decoration. It was a massive engineering feat that had to survive Minnesota’s brutal winters, which, if you’ve lived here, you know can crack concrete and freeze your eyelashes shut.

The Weird History of Spoonbridge and Cherry Minneapolis

Claes Oldenburg was already famous for making "big things" before he looked at Minneapolis. He liked taking everyday objects—clothespins, binoculars, flashlights—and blowing them up to impossible sizes. It changes how you look at the world. When you’re standing next to a spoon that weighs 5,800 pounds, you feel like an ant. It’s a bit humbling, really.

The Walker Art Center commissioned the piece for the opening of the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden in 1988. Oldenburg had the spoon idea early on. He’d carried a spoon in his pocket for years, a little souvenir from a 1962 happening in Chicago. But a spoon by itself is just... a spoon. It’s a bit flat. It was Coosje van Bruggen who insisted on adding the cherry. She wanted to add a bit of "flair" and a different geometry to the long, horizontal line of the spoon’s handle.

She also added the logic. The cherry is actually a fountain.

If you look closely at the stem of the cherry, water actually sprays out. In the summer, it keeps the sculpture looking fresh and prevents the paint from getting too dull under the sun. In the winter? Well, they turn the water off because a 1,200-pound ice-covered cherry would probably be a structural nightmare even for the best engineers in the Midwest.

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How They Actually Built This Thing

You don’t just weld some metal together and call it a day. The Spoonbridge and Cherry was fabricated at two different shipyards. Why shipyards? Because they are the only ones used to working with massive, curved steel and aluminum on a scale that needs to withstand the elements.

The spoon part was built at Merrifield Structural Steel in Connecticut. The cherry? That came from a shipyard in Maine. It's made of aluminum. They chose aluminum for the cherry because it’s lighter than the stainless steel used for the spoon, which is important when that cherry is perched precariously on the edge of the bowl.

The finish is high-grade industrial paint. It has to be. Between the humidity of a Minnesota July and the -20°F wind chills of January, regular house paint would peel off in a week. Even with the fancy stuff, the Walker Art Center has to periodically "refurbish" the sculpture. They actually repainted the whole thing in 2022 to keep that red looking like a ripe fruit rather than a rusty old ball.

Why Does a Giant Spoon Matter So Much?

It’s about place-making. Minneapolis used to be seen as just another cold, industrial city in the "Flyover States." When the sculpture garden opened, it changed the vibe. It told the world that the Twin Cities weren't just about flour mills and frozen lakes; they were a hub for contemporary art.

You’ll see wedding photos there. You’ll see kids trying to climb the base (don't do that, the security guards are fast). You’ll see people wearing "Spoonbridge" t-shirts. It has become a piece of collective identity. It’s accessible. You don't need to read a plaque to enjoy it. You just look at it and go, "Yeah, that's a big spoon."

The Engineering Nobody Talks About

The sculpture isn't just sitting on the grass. It’s anchored. The "bridge" part of the name refers to how the spoon spans a small pond. It’s a literal bridge over water. The foundation goes deep into the ground to ensure that the shifting soil—common in this part of the Mississippi River basin—doesn't cause the spoon to tip over and crush a nearby tourist.

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  • The total length is 52 feet.
  • The spoon weighs 5,800 pounds.
  • The cherry weighs 1,200 pounds.
  • The water from the stem flows into the spoon and then drains out into the pond.

It’s a closed-loop system of sorts, designed to be playful but incredibly sturdy. If you visit in the evening, the way the light hits the stainless steel is genuinely beautiful. It reflects the skyline of downtown Minneapolis, creating this weird mix of nature, industry, and pop art.

Common Myths and Misconceptions

People think the spoon is a reference to the city’s history with the food industry—General Mills, Pillsbury, all that. It’s a logical guess. Minneapolis was the "Flour Milling Capital of the World" for a long time. But Oldenburg and van Bruggen have been pretty clear that it wasn't a direct homage to Betty Crocker. They were more interested in the form and the way a household object looks when it's shoved into a public park.

Another misconception? That you can go inside it. You definitely cannot. It’s solid (well, hollow but sealed).

Some people also think it's a "fountain" in the sense that you can swim in it. Please don't. The pond beneath the spoon is part of an ecological system for the garden, and the water coming out of the cherry isn't exactly filtered for a pool party. It's art. Look, don't bathe.

The Best Way to Experience the Sculpture

If you're planning to see the Spoonbridge and Cherry Minneapolis landmark, timing is everything. Most people crowd the garden on Saturday mornings when the weather is nice. It's a madhouse. You’ll be fighting for a photo angle that doesn't include twenty strangers.

Try going on a Tuesday evening or early on a Sunday morning. The garden is free. You don't need a ticket to walk through the outdoor sections. If you go in the fall, the changing colors of the trees in Loring Park provide a killer backdrop for the silver of the spoon.

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The Minneapolis Sculpture Garden itself is 11 acres. While the spoon is the star, don't skip the other stuff. There’s a giant blue rooster ( Hahn/Cock by Katharina Fritsch) just a short walk away. It’s equally weird and very blue. But even with the rooster nearby, the spoon remains the heavy hitter. It’s the one that people recognize instantly.

Practical Tips for Visitors

  1. Parking: The Walker Art Center has a paid ramp, but you can often find street parking along Kenwood Parkway if you're patient.
  2. Photography: The best shot is from the southwest side of the pond. You get the spoon, the cherry, and the Basilica of Saint Mary in the background. It captures the "old vs. new" vibe of the city perfectly.
  3. Winter Visits: Yes, it’s still there in the snow. It actually looks pretty cool when the spoon is filled with a "scoop" of fresh white snow. It looks like a giant bowl of vanilla ice cream with a cherry on top. Just dress warm.

Impact on the Minneapolis Art Scene

The success of the Spoonbridge and Cherry paved the way for more public art in the city. Because people loved the spoon, the city felt confident investing in more daring projects. Now, Minneapolis is full of murals (like the famous Bob Dylan one downtown) and sculptures.

It proved that "high art" could be "popular art." It broke down the walls. It made the Walker Art Center one of the most visited modern art museums in the country. Before the spoon, the garden was just a plot of land. After the spoon, it became a destination.

What to Do After You’ve Seen the Spoon

Once you've finished your photoshoot at the Spoonbridge and Cherry, don't just leave the neighborhood. You're in one of the coolest spots in the city.

Walk across the Irene Hixon Whitney Bridge—the yellow pedestrian bridge designed by Siah Armajani. It takes you right over I-94 and into Loring Park. From there, you can walk to some of the best coffee shops in the city. Or, if you’re hungry, head over to the Lowry for some actual food (not served on a 50-foot spoon, unfortunately).

If you're a serious art nerd, head inside the Walker Art Center. The exhibits change constantly and are usually pretty provocative. But even if you never step foot inside the building, the spoon has already given you the best part of the experience for free.

Actionable Insights for Your Visit

To get the most out of your trip to see the Spoonbridge and Cherry in Minneapolis, keep these things in mind:

  • Check the Calendar: The Walker often hosts events in the garden, like "Rock the Garden" or "Skyline Mini-Golf." These are fun but will make the sculpture area very crowded. Check their website before you go.
  • Golden Hour is Real: The stainless steel of the spoon reflects the sunset beautifully. Aim to be there about 30 minutes before the sun goes down.
  • The "Double Shot": If you stand at the far end of the garden, you can line up the Spoonbridge and Cherry with the IDS Center (the tallest building in Minneapolis). It's the quintessential "I visited Minneapolis" photo.
  • Don't Forget the Details: Look at the "kink" in the spoon's handle. Oldenburg designed it that way to mimic the way a spoon actually rests on a table. It's those little touches that make it a masterpiece rather than just a big prop.

Seeing the sculpture is a rite of passage. Whether you’re a local who’s seen it a thousand times or a tourist seeing it for the first time, it never really loses its charm. It’s a reminder that the world doesn't always have to be so serious. Sometimes, a giant spoon is exactly what a city needs.