Random acts of beauty punctuate the 2015 State Fair fine art show, along with keen observations, refined craftsmanship, novel designs, mysterious animals and more.
The Fine Arts hall can accommodate only about 325 pieces, so, like admission to top colleges, the competition just gets tougher as the number of applicants grows. This year there were 2,361 entries, about 10 percent more than last summer. Of those, 327 were accepted by the eight jurors.
Keen observation is at the heart of good art, whether it be a "Roadside Barber" photographed by Timothy Harmon or the abandoned "Mill Complex" painted by Rod Massey.
Harmon's barber plies his trade in a dusty country, perhaps India, where modernity, aspirations and dignity struggle against an undertow of poverty and urban decay. A straightforward black-and-white street shot, it is rich in telling detail — traffic races just feet away from the rubble in which the barber has spread his combs and pomades on a rickety table while he clips the hair of a dignified man in a jerry-rigged wooden chair. Their well-tailored clothes are shabby, but the haircut is as flawless as Harmon's printing and composition.
Massey's crumbling, graffitied mill towers mark the end of an agrarian and industrial era, their proud shells stained by rust, weather and neglect. Even so, they are perfect artist's fodder, their angles, curves and planes a harmony of geometry against a flattened sky.
In "Blue on Blue," Catherine Hearding of Lake Elmo uses transparent watercolor to capture the papery delicacy of hydrangeas, while Suzanne Shaff employs the same demanding medium to enlarge a dry "Shadow Leaf" into a batlike creature that's more than 2 feet wide and balanced with utmost grace on its slender stem. Elegant.
Refined craftsmanship
Curling along a slab of raw wood, the "Shelf Fungus" that Kimber Olson of Eden Prairie made from wool, silk and felt is a remarkable illusion, its nubby textures and shimmering skin disarmingly realistic.
Megan Grigal of St. Paul won't trick anyone into taking a bite out of her "Bologna and Cheese [Sandwich] With Mustard," but the ceramic still life is memorably clever. Meanwhile, the trompe l'oeil egg that Brenda M. Ryan plunked into a ceramic egg carton is so perfect it could easily end up accidentally cracked into a frying pan.