Prince Mural, Uptown Minneapolis. Photo: Courtesy Of Meet Minneapolis

Just days before the first snowfall of the season, I find myself on Hennepin Avenue in downtown Minneapolis for the world premiere of Purple Rain The Musical at the historic State Theatre. The street outside is an ultraviolet fever dream: purple lights, purple carpet, and a camera crew chasing celebrities—Spike Lee among them—down the line. Inside, the lobby resembles a museum, brimming with memorabilia: rare photographs, gold records, and, of course, a replica of the motorcycle from the 1984 film of the same name, gleaming like an altar piece. 

The curtain rises to the unmistakable chords of “Let’s Go Crazy,” and suddenly, the crowd is witnessing the film come alive, but in a  reimagined way. Kris Kollins, who plays the Kid, channels Prince’s simmering magnetism with impressive restraint; Rachel Webb’s Apollonia provides the tender foil; and Jared Howelton’s Morris Day brings necessary comic relief with the kind of toothy grin that could melt Lake Minnetonka. The story is familiar—an artist battling ego, family demons, and the gravitational pull of fame—and the music remains iconic. The songs don’t just fill the theatre; they recall a time when pop music had a much different pulse. After months of workshopping, the pre-Broadway musical finds itself in a place that honours the legacy of both Prince and the movie it was based on. I wonder what Spike Lee thought.

Prince-i-apolis

Step outside and Prince’s story and his relationship to Minneapolis keeps unfolding. Without much prying needed, locals are quick to share their own stories and rumours they’ve acquired along the way, like how the city allegedly rewrote its curfew rules strictly for Prince so that if the mood struck him at 2 a.m., he could roll into a club like First Avenue, jump on stage and play until sunrise. 

Standing outside First Avenue on a crisp Tuesday night, a bouncer tells me, “Yeah, he’d show up unannounced. And people waited just to see if it would happen.” He won’t give me his name—just a grin and a nod toward the star embedded on the venue’s black façade that reads Prince. Among the other names on the famed star wall include Husker Du, Soul Asylum, and college rock titans the Replacements, proving that the city’s talent pool has both depth and breadth beyond the iconic Purple one.  

First Avenue is hallowed ground—the place where Purple Rain was filmed and where the Minneapolis Sound was forged. Inside, the air still hums with that live music energy and remains a beacon for emerging acts, the same way it once gave a stage to a five-foot-two guitar god in heels and a ruffled shirt.

Everything Is Purple

Taking the Prince Legacy Tour around Minneapolis is like chasing ghosts through the city’s quiet neighbourhoods. You pass his childhood home, modest and weather-beaten; the underwhelming house used in the Purple Rain film; and the Capri Theater in North Minneapolis, where a 20-year-old Prince gave his first solo concerts in January 1979.

Back then, local critic Jon Bream wrote that he “strutted across the stage with grand Mick Jagger-like moves… cool, cocky, and sexy.” The Capri has since been renovated, now hosting youth theatre programs and community events under the guidance of general manager Kevin West. “Our goal is to keep Prince’s spirit alive,” West tells me. “He showed what was possible when a kid from this neighbourhood chased his vision. That’s what we try to teach here.”

Paisley Park

Drive 20 minutes southwest and you reach Paisley Park in Chanhassen—the fortress-studio-turned-museum where Prince lived, worked, and, ultimately, died. Many of the rooms are eerily untouched, velvet ropes separating fans from his instruments, notebooks, and even a stack of DVDs—Steel Magnolias and Limitless among them—piled underneath the TV in his dining area.

It’s sobering to remember that Prince’s perfectionism came with pain. His death—an accidental overdose from counterfeit Vicodin laced with fentanyl—still hangs over the city like a fog. Yet, the keepers of Paisley Park work to keep the focus on what matters: the music, the philanthropy, and the restless creativity that defied gravity for four decades.

Bow Down

Everywhere you turn, Prince is watching: murals splashed across brick walls, murals inside record stores, murals on the side of parking garages. The newest looms directly across from First Avenue, next to the Target Centre where the Timberwolves play—a towering portrait by local artists Hiero Veiga and Peyton Scott Russell. After all, Prince did love basketball.

Talk to anyone in Minneapolis and they’ll offer up their own Prince story. Some saw his late-night gigs; others, his quiet generosity. “He’d buy instruments for kids who couldn’t afford them,” one local promoter tells me. “Never wanted credit.” That spirit endures in the city’s creative community from the basement jazz sessions at Icehouse to the indie shows at the 7th Street Entry located next to First Avenue.

You can wander these streets looking for ghosts, but Minneapolis doesn’t deal in spirits—it deals in vibrations. Prince might be gone, but the charge he left behind still snaps in the air like static, rattling club walls and ricocheting off of murals as if he could stroll back in at any moment. With the 10-year anniversary of his passing on the horizon, Paisley Park is gearing up for a global homecoming; a pilgrimage for the faithful who return each year to recharge in the place where the myth was made.

And while some might mistakenly still dismiss Minneapolis as fly-over country, they’re missing the current running just beneath its surface. It’s there in the immaculate dining scene, the newest North Loop hotspots, and in the music still being hammered into existence by the next wave—artists like Anita Velveeta or Scrunchies, whose newest LP stands as one of the final projects touched by the late Steve Albini. Minneapolis keeps evolving, shifting, and reinventing itself the way Prince once did, endlessly and without apology.

Purple Places:

First Avenue & 7th Street Entry (701 N 1st Ave.)
The beating heart of the Minneapolis Sound and filming location for Purple Rain. Check out the star wall and catch a show—local and legacy acts—any night of the week.

Paisley Park (7801 Audubon Rd.)
Prince’s former home and studio is now a living museum preserving his archives, wardrobe, and recording spaces exactly as he left them. Get the VIP tour and you can play on his ping-pong table. 

Capri Theater (2027 W Broadway Ave.)
The site of Prince’s first solo concerts in 1979, now a revitalized community hub offering youth theatre and music programs in North Minneapolis.

Eat Like a Prince:

Dario is one of the most stylish new Italian restaurants in the North Loop area of Minneapolis.

Matt’s Bar (3500 Cedar Ave. S)
Obama-approved and the home of the original Jucy Lucy—a molten-cheese-filled burger born in South Minneapolis in the 1950s. Greasy, glorious, and best enjoyed with a Grain Belt lager.

Bûcheron (4257 Nicollet Ave.)
This James Beard Award-winning French spot proves the Twin Cities’ culinary scene can rival any coast. Think innovative takes on classics like venison tartare or stuffed pheasant, impeccable wine, and Midwestern hospitality under candlelight.

Dario (323 N Washington Ave.)
A stylish newcomer in the North Loop, Dario pairs modern Italian cooking with dreamy décor. Soft pink and teal pastels, give the room a cozy, chic glow. It’s the perfect place to settle in over handmade pasta like their doppio ravioli and a crisp glass of orange wine.