The Search Continues

Museums acquire new works mainly through purchase or donation. Usually, the only indication the public has of the genesis of a particular piece is a high-profile name under an exhibition title or maybe a corporate logo. Once in a while, however, the mold is broken and a brilliant collection comes seemingly out of nowhere.

One of those rare moments occurred last year when Frederick B. Scheel, a Moorhead businessman and collector, donated his extensive photography collection to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. The collection is so large (more than 600 photos) that it boosted the museum's already impressive permanent collection of photographs a full 5 percent. To show it, the MIA took the unprecedented step of exhibiting the collection in two installments, the second of which, Search to See II, is on display through March 30.

While Scheel's name may be obscure, his collection is anything but. It includes an extraordinary number of photos by some of the greatest photographers of the twentieth century. Scheel started taking photos as a young boy in northern Minnesota. While honing his craft, he made contacts with numerous like-minded artists, many of whom went on to become household names in the world of photography: Edward Weston, Ansel Adams, André Kertész, Minor White, Walker Evans—the list goes on. Along the way, Scheel kept adding to his photographic treasure trove.

Search to See II features about eighty-five images from the collection and, unlike most photography shows at the museum, fills both rooms of the Harrison Gallery. Both part one and part two of the exhibition were organized by longtime photography curator Ted Hartwell, who died last spring. Acting curator Christian Peterson says that it would have been possible to arrange the photos a number of ways, but Hartwell preferred a less regimented approach. "Personal collections are always a function of personality and artistic taste," Peterson says. "It's a potpourri reflecting one collector's eye."

What holds the show together, says Peterson, is Scheel's fascination with midcentury documentary photography. Even a cursory viewing of the collection reveals an eye for the iconic and exceptional. A number of images will be instantly recognizable—the dark, edgy outline of Weston's Nude 1927; the upraised faces of W. Eugene Smith's Spanish guards; the receding storm behind Half Dome, which could only have been taken by Adams.

But, says Peterson, part of the charm of a personal collection is uncovering the unexpected. He points to example after example of images that reflect the spontaneity and unpredictability of the individual collector (as opposed to the very purposeful acquisitions of an institution). A whimsical Phillippe Halsman photo of Salvador Dali here, an anthropological portrait of August Sander there—such unlikely surprises pop up throughout the collection. SebastiÜo Salgado, Harry Callahan, Bill Brandt—all these names and more found their way into Scheel's collection.

One reason this collection is so special is that Scheel had the good fortune to befriend several greats before photography hit its stride and photographers gained superstar status in the art world. He developed a rapport with Adams and Kertész, as well as Edward Weston's son Brett, whom he credits with guiding his own development as a photographer. "He [Brett Weston] taught me how to see," Scheel said in a 1998 interview. "He was always looking for something different; he was always pushing the horizon. Eventually I got to where I could see too."

Ongoing. Minneapolis Institute of Arts, 2400 Stevens Ave. S., Mpls., 612-870-3000