There’s the art of brewing it, the art of pouring it and the art of drinking it — responsibly, of course. Unknown to many is the art atop it: the art of the beer tap handle.

But behind Twin Cities bars, goose heads peer over sculpted wooden apples, and reclaimed fenceposts mark their territory next to macho etched metal pulls, while thirsty patrons gaze back, wallets in hand.

As the number of breweries in the state has climbed, now producing more than 525,000 barrels of craft brew a year, tap handles have gotten bigger, fancier and, in some cases, costlier. (A Dogfish Head Steampunk Uber Beer tap handle, a bulky thing full of faux gears, was recently listed on eBay for $1,525.)

It’s not all about aesthetics, however. It’s a marketing tactic for many brewers, who consider tap handles one last chance to lure a patron.

“Tap handles are like tiny billboards on the back of the bar,” said Sarah Sherber, an instructor for the University of Minnesota’s College of Design. Flashy handles have become such an icon of design that two of Sherber’s classes at the university have included tap handle design and construction.

Branded tap handles were created — and legally mandated ­— to protect consumers from bait-and-switch bartending after Prohibition, said George Baley, author of “Vintage Beer Tap Markers: Ball Knobs, 1930s-1950s.” But the days of bland ball knobs with tiny logos are behind us.

The tap lineup at Buster On 28th in Minneapolis includes 32 brews.

Serious thought goes into handle creation, said Nathan Berndt, co-owner of Indeed Brewing Co. The Minneapolis brewery’s handles are made of oak, to mirror Indeed’s oak-filled tasting room.

“Its very difficult to stand out in tap handles,” he said. “Everybody wants to be different.”

That’s why carpenter and beer hobbyist Nick Roseth’s wooden tap handles compete for home-brewer interest against handles made of glass, copper or deer antlers at the Beer Dabbler’s store.

Too much marketing?

But the artsy tap handles have provoked the ire of some restaurateurs with an eye for clean aesthetics.

At bars across the city, you can often find a tap handle or two without real branding. (They do, however, use a numerical system to identify which beer is on tap.)

Atom Pechman, founder of Form From Form, a Minneapolis design firm, has made three sets of logo-free tap handles for Minnesota restaurants.

“They like the look of uniform tap handles instead of a giant smorgasbord of cartoon madness,” Pechman said.

Matty O’Reilly, co-owner of the bar Republic, avoids beer-related advertising in his Minnesota bars and restaurants. The only remaining form of advertising is tap handles. But when he bought Dan Kelly’s Pub in 2014, he did away with branded tap handles, as well. Dan Kelly’s, in Minneapolis, has wooden tap handles on which bartenders write craft brew names in chalk.

For O’Reilly, who said flashy tap handles can lure beer drinkers to drink mediocre brew, the move away from artsy handles is a way to expose beer drinkers to brands they may not try otherwise.

“The beer speaks for itself,” O’Reilly said, adding that patrons consult the menu or talk to a bartender rather than making a choice based on the look of the tap handle.

But across the country, beer isn’t the only thing doing the talking.

Mark Supik of Baltimore’s Mark Supik & Co. is a carpenter and something of a tap handle artist. His handles — which can sell for hundreds of dollars — are often taken off bars and put behind glass, he said.

“They’re really sculpture,” Supik said.

Barry Lytton is a University of Minnesota student on assignment for the Star Tribune.