Today, there are more than 75 Mini Print Vending Machines around the U.S.<\/a>, and more are introduced every month. There\u2019s one in Duluth, at Northern Waters Smokehaus, and another in Grand Marais, at Roam & Whimsy Co. There\u2019s just one in the Twin Cities, and it\u2019s lived in the lobby at France 44 since last October.<\/p>\n But if those frantic Instagrammers really want to exchange a few quarters for a miniature work of art, they have other options. Mini art vending machines have been popping up all over Minnesota for the last few years at print shops, art markets, museums, and even in parks. From Bench Pressed letterpress shop in Seward to Silverwood Park in St. Anthony and beyond, there\u2019s probably a small art vending machine near you.<\/p>\n The appeal of these little vending machines is immediate. They\u2019re fun to use and cheap to buy from, and there\u2019s an element of nostalgia in the mix, whether you remember buying rabbit feet or sticky hands or little alien guys from similar coin-operated machines. And, in an age dominated by computers, crypto, and AI-generated slop, the premise is invitingly simple: real art, made by hand, exchanged for real money, just a few coins\u2019 worth.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cI love the tactile piece of it,\u201d Glassman-Kaufman says. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing digital about it; you don\u2019t even have to plug in the machine. It\u2019s just quarters and prints, and that\u2019s it.\u201d<\/p>\n A decade before Ana Inciardi, there was Caitlin Warner.\u00a0<\/p>\n In 2012, during a residency at the Highpoint Center for Printmaking in Minneapolis, the local printmaker and book artist dreamt up the \u201cUnvending\u201d project, which brought miniature screen-printed books and other works to refurbished machines in locations throughout the Twin Cities.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cI was a bit jaded with the whole, I don\u2019t know, fine art thing,\u201d she says, \u201cand not quite sure how to navigate wanting to genuinely connect with people and make stuff for the sake of loving it\u2026 versus all the strange ways you have to contort yourself to try to monetize your work and make it more serious and important-sounding than it is as a fine artist with a capital A.\u201d<\/p>\n The Unvending machines were a way to explore some of those tensions. Warner scoured eBay and Craigslist for old machines and filled them with tiny handmade books and prints whose subject matter often corresponded with whatever each machine had vended in its previous life. You could find a tiny book about love in a condom machine, or a scroll with notes on acting in an emergency in a repurposed tampon dispenser.\u00a0<\/p>\n For printers like Mary C. Bruno of Bruno Press in St. Joseph, there\u2019s an obvious appeal to these devices: “I\u2019m obsessed with all analog, vintage shit anyways,\u201d she says. Bruno remembers being enamored with Art-o-mats, those old cigarette machines that were repurposed to distribute art beginning in the late \u201990s, which Inciardi has also cited as an early inspiration.\u00a0<\/p>\n<\/p>\n But the opportunities for distributing art via vending machine go beyond prints. Local pop artist Boxy Mouse<\/a> sells buttons and mini skate decks out of machines at United Noodles, while Jessica Behnke Heusinkveld of Lumps of Clay Studios<\/a> puts tiny ceramic creations in a vending machine that travels with her to festivals throughout central Minnesota.\u00a0<\/p>\n At the Spare Change Gallery<\/a> on East Lake Street, the vending machine functions like a gift shop, full of stickers and zines that correspond with a rotating public art exhibit. The Minneapolis gallery, a project of community art space Curiosity Studio, is located in a hallway shared by the studio and Laune Bread, and currently displays a collection of prints made using day-old breads and croissants from the bakery.<\/p>\n Curiosity Studio director and instructor Lauren Callis notes that sometimes art museums and galleries can feel a little uncomfortable for the average person. \u201cI think there\u2019s a reputation around art and the spaces that hold and house art to be a little distant,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n In her work, she loves to use art as a tool for public connection, and the vending machine can help with that. It\u2019s approachable. Buying from it is easy and immediate. It can inspire excitement, perhaps more than art on a wall. Anyone can take a sticker or zine with them, a reminder of the art they just saw.\u00a0<\/p>\n It\u2019s fun, it\u2019s playful, and it helps to invite people in, making it so visitors feel like part of the exhibit, something Callis is always thinking about. \u201cNot disruption, necessarily\u2014that\u2019s too extreme a word for it,\u201d she says. \u201cBut, \u2018how do you provoke peoples\u2019 engagement?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n On the other hand, if you prefer not to engage with anyone? The machines are handy there, too. Warner describes her Unvending project, which drew to a close a few years after it started, as an exercise in making \u201cart for weirdo little introverts like myself.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a very indirect way of connecting with people,\u201d she says, and part of the appeal was \u201cwanting to connect with people without necessarily having the social confidence to walk up directly and hand them something.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n Bench Pressed owners Jane and Andy Shannon agree: There\u2019s definitely something to the \u201cart for introverts\u201d idea. During warmer months, they roll up the wide garage door in front of their shop, with the vending machine facing towards the sidewalk. They\u2019ve seen more than one person buy a print (or a few) from the vending machine and then skip away, without ever setting foot inside.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cPeople [have] pulled up in their cars, popped a couple quarters in, and then ran back,\u201d Andy laughs.\u00a0<\/p>\n But even these elusive quarter-plunkers contribute to a sense of community. The Bench Pressed vending machine is full of anti-war, pro-peace prints with messages like \u201cstop bombing children\u201d and \u201cpeace please.\u201d Seeing people purchase the prints makes the Shannons feel a little less alone; even if things seem helpless, at least you know you\u2019re not the only one who feels this way. And, like zines or stickers, the mini prints can be a way to disseminate a political idea quickly, cheaply, and effectively.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cWe definitely sold out of \u2018stop bombing children\u2019 instantly, and have had to reprint that one, which feels really fucked up,\u201d Jane says. One local teacher bought 30 of the \u201cpeace please\u201d prints to distribute to her class ahead of the start of the school year.\u00a0<\/p>\n It helps that the art in these machines is super cheap. Prints at Bench Pressed go for 50 cents, and rarely are they priced above a dollar anywhere else, making them accessible to just about everyone. (Where else can you get 30 of anything for $15?)<\/p>\n The vending machines tend to be a hit with young folks. Kids love the fun of putting quarters into a machine and getting something new, as do young adults, many of whom, especially in the case of Ana Inciardi\u2019s food prints, have seen the machines going viral<\/a> on Instagram or TikTok.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cI think a big audience for this kind of work is younger folks, early 20s, who maybe aren\u2019t spending as much time in Linden Hills and wouldn’t have otherwise found our shop,\u201d says Glassman-Kaufman at France 44. The Mini Print Vending Machine has been a new way to get them in the door, \u201cand hopefully get them to try a sandwich while they\u2019re here.\u201d<\/p>\n And, especially with the machines in which prints are randomized, there\u2019s an element of surprise\u2014you never quite know what your quarters will win you. Glassman-Kaufman has watched people dump $12 or more in quarters into the Inciardi machine, one buck at a time, hoping to score a particular print. Warner says it\u2019s like a handcrafted version of the current blind box craze. Instead of Labubus, linocuts.<\/p>\n \u201cThat idea of the Russian roulette of art process\u2014what are you gonna get?\u2014is still such an exciting thing,\u201d Callis agrees.\u00a0<\/p>\n This Saturday, a new art vending machine from Nancy Ariza of Amilado Press will make its debut at Silverwood Park.<\/p>\n Most of the art machines out there are solo enterprises, featuring works by a single artist or shop. Ariza\u2019s is a little different.\u00a0<\/p>\n At Amilado, she focuses on collaborative printing, artist residencies, and community programming, both with Minnesota artists and national and international artists. Ariza thought the vending machine would fittingly fulfill the press\u2019s community focus\u2014a way to get art out in front of new people and possibly introduce them to the idea of collecting art, \u201cat a very accessible scale and price,\u201d she says.\u00a0<\/p>\n But rather than highlighting her own illustrations, Amilado\u2019s new vending machine will feature works by three Latinx artists\u2014Mar\u00eda Jos\u00e9 Castillo, Lynda Grafito, and Genessis Lopez\u2014that were collaboratively screenprinted by Ariza at her Richfield studio.\u00a0<\/p>\n All three of the featured artists do some printmaking, and they each have a nature-based focus Ariza thought would be perfect for the park. The vending machine\u2019s arrival coincides with Silverwood\u2019s annual Field Trip<\/a> festival, with prints of wildlife, florals, and outdoor scenes. And it will remain in the park\u2019s visitor center long after Saturday\u2019s crowds disperse.\u00a0<\/p>\n Ariza says that certain things about distributing art in a refurbished vending machine can be tricky; for example, after several failed attempts with cans of spraypaint, she had to sandblast the old, fading paint from the machine and powder coat it.\u00a0<\/p>\n But collaborating with and uplifting other artists, and giving them a platform with which to show their work? That\u2019s just a natural part of her practice, even if typically there are no quarters involved.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cThe same care and collaboration and attention to detail is present,\u201d she says, \u201ceven though the scale is small.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n Find the mini art vending machines featured in this story:<\/p>\n Amilado Press<\/a> Bench Pressed\u00a0<\/a> Bruno Press<\/a> France 44<\/a> Spare Change Gallery<\/a>![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/spare-change-gallery.jpg\")
The Spare Change Gallery gift shop vending machine was painted by Kelsi Sharp of Sharp Design Co., which is located in the same building as the gallery.Courtesy of Spare Change Gallery<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/IMG_8154.jpeg\")
Bench Pressed sold out of the stop bombing children print “instantly,” says co-owner Jane Shannon.<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/Blank-3-Grids-Collage-1.png\"){kind=spacer}
From left: opossum print by Lynda Grafito, building print by Mar\u00eda Jos\u00e9 Castillo, and flower print by Genessis Lopez.Courtesy of Amilado Press<\/p>\n
Located at the Silverwood Park Visitor Center
2500 County Rd. E., St. Anthony<\/p>\n
2010 26th Ave. S. #1, Minneapolis<\/p>\n
154 Southeast Fifth Ave., St. Joseph
Schedule a visit<\/a> or find the upcoming events calendar here<\/a>.<\/p>\n
4351 France Ave. S., Minneapolis<\/p>\n
3607 E. Lake St., Minneapolis<\/p>\n