There’s no actual name for what I’m writing about.
“Miniatures” doesn’t capture it. That makes me think of tiny dollhouse furniture. “Bonsai” only defines naturally growing things that are pruned into smallness. Same for terrariums.
I’m talking about something different –magical “worlds’ made up of little treasures –small things that have no obvious relationship except within my own point of view, and are gathered together and confined on a tray or in a box or on a small table.
Am I making any sense yet?
I first saw one of these magical worlds on a sideboard in Lichtenstein. It struck me then that this little “forest floor” said volumes about the departure of Winter and the joyful promise of Spring.
I took this photo and held onto it until I recently hosted a baby shower around Christmas. Deciding to try my hand at my own magical display, I gathered together many small objects in my repertoire. I even decorated an antique baby shoe. I wanted this small world to celebrate the small human about to join us.
Now, with the Christmas decor stored for another year, I set out to create a new magical world with early Spring as its theme.
So I’ve gathered and arranged and rearranged and decided on moss colors, and now joyfully display my ode to Rebirth, Renewal and the New Year.
When I mentioned this project to my Brooklyn daughter, she reminded me about the artist Joseph Cornell, whom she has admired for years. Her small world creations in her apartment, inspired by him, are tucked away in several places. I’ve photographed many of them, because they defy description. But I think of her as a modern archaeologist of sorts.
Her miniature worlds are from her point of view and have profound meaning to her alone; although each glimpse gives the viewer a perspective that is also personal and deep.
My daughter’s bathroom collection. I like where it takes me!
A bonsai candle in one of her printer’s drawer cubbies
Her little corner bookcase
Her kitchen adornment
My daughter’s spirit jars, holding rocks and found objects from various trips.
I researched Cornell. His specialty was shadowboxes, filled with found objects, pages from old books and dime-store trinkets –miniature tableaux that inspire the viewer to see each item and theme in a new light.
Joseph Cornell, Habitat Group for a Shooting Gallery (1943-1)
Cornell, Untitled (c.1935)
Cornell, Box with Five Glasses (c.1956)
Does this give me impetus to collect even more”stuff?” Maybe, but I would be doing that regardless of my new interest in small curiosities!
I remember meditating on a spruce bonsai I once owned. It took me to a magical landscape with cliffs and boulders that were, when I came back to reality, small river rocks and sand.
Similar to the bonsai I owned, although this one is award-winning!
I’m hopeful that my confined trays of wonder will expand my imagination in the same way as I pass through the room, catch a glimpse, and get transported to this other dimension…It inspires me to do more with my tabletops; be more thoughtful about what little things I place where and why.
Some sort of meaningful display at an airbnb recently in Brooklyn…
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