Miniature History

By Ashton Redman


This article was inspired by Ohanga Creative and foraging artist Rebecca Reddy’s “Pinecone World” print.

You can browse more of Reddy’s artwork in the Ohanga Market.


The first miniature creation was, without adoubt, an act of devotion to craftsmanship. How else could one explain the extreme attention to detail employed to create an art so tiny and personal that the viewer is transported into a new realm. When scale is called into question, our relationship to an art object changes dramatically. The psychology of the “play-scale” is one recorded as far back as ancient Egypt, where the first miniatures were believed to have been created. To create something so miniscule is to keep it close and readily available for comfort. Whether it is simply for decor or for play, the miniature invokes a sense of preciousness to the beholder. 

An invention that would span generations to come, the miniature was not originally associated with the ubiquitous toys we see populating commercial stores today. Before the industrial revolution, miniature dolls and houses were widely considered an indication of a high-class status. In order to afford its craft, wealthy households would pay artisans top dollar for a bespoke tiny creation. When demand increased, factories took over the artist's helm and made these tiny home additions more affordable for the average person. It was the industrial revolution and the mass production of tiny-scale consumer goods that established a new market for miniatures: children’s toys.

As the price, reputation, and general value decreased, the painstaking art of fine detail and out-of-the box imagination gained a new reputation. Dollhouses were no longer just a luxury for the upper class and were used as teaching tools for young children in the average western household. For many, perhaps, it was a first introduction into what society expected of a family structure. Young women were meant to emulate a kitchen maid, wife, and mother during playtime. And yet, while adults were the ones who decided the structure of play for children, they largely distanced themselves from play-scale objects. Toys and figurines became popular among hobbyists, and were not typically regarded as a sectorof fine art. What once held high esteem as a rarity in society shifted in its charm, appealing to children who wished to play and the adults purchasing toys as a tool of initiation.

Today, there are many artists challenging what it means to play and to create on the play-scale. In several ways, this breath of fresh air into the medium has not only inspired countlessadults to reconnect and heal that inner child, but also to create an experience that can be enjoyed on a different level, by a more diverse range of people. These contemporary artists tend to hold values that reject what miniatures originally symbolized: a class-focused and inaccessible object for the elite, a tool of capitalism, or a misogynistic pedagogical implement that stifled a child’s expression. Today, artists from all backgrounds desire to create a new kind of toy, and are doing it on their own terms. The renaissance of the dollhouse and the play-scale object is finally back in the hands of the individual artisan, where it belongs.

Miniatures draw the human eye in, providing us entry to an unordinary world that we cannot access on our own. It only makes sense for creators to curate this world in a way that suits them and learns from the past. Outside of its mass produced consumer context, viewers begin to enjoy what is genuinely fascinating about the miniature: its limitless wonder and individuality. These fringe artists who have taken on the role of the miniaturist carve a space that they not only can play in, but in which they may exist freely.The private experience of playing with miniatures, letting yourself exist by proxy, are oftentimes one of the first displays of big emotions in children. It is an honest action to make oneself vulnerable outside of what one would usually be comfortable with. Perhaps it is this vulnerability that creates distance between the miniature and the adult. 

Miniaturists are not only doing their work for nostalgia—for many, it is a cathartic experience of expression. It is easier to close yourself off from the experience of play than to choose shameless self-expression. We can learn a lot from the self-confident nature of children in this respect. If we challenge our preconceived notions about play, we might find that instead of being an embarrassing or uncomfortably vulnerable event, it can be a relief. The tiny object allows the artist to safely express how they feel about things from the safety of their own world, while inhabiting another. Creating one is not a process limited by age, but instead by the imagination of the viewer.

The essence of the miniature has always been rooted in a source of familiar joy for its owner. Although the longevity of the medium can be attributed to its industrial methods of production, democratized platforms where independent creators post their content, such as on social media, have also kept the art alive and well. Hand-in-hand with the DIY scene, more people can access learning materials on how miniatures are made. These painstaking processes, documented with love, are teaching people globally how to continue the tradition and practice of worldbuilding. To seek the comfort of a toy and to transport yourself into an unfamiliar world is an act of bravery. These miniaturists carry on the good spirit of the art while breaking out of earlier conventions and constraints.


Works Cited

  1. Brandow-Faller, Megan. “Dolls and the Discipline of the Domestic.” Essay. In Childhood by Design: Toys and the Material Culture of Childhood, 1700-Present. New York, NY, USA: Bloomsbury Visual Arts, 2020.

  2. Siegrist, Wes. “Fine Art in Little ~ the Miniature Paintings of Wes & Rachelle Siegrist.” The History of Miniature Art by Wes Siegrist. Accessed March 15, 2022. https://www.artofwildlife.com/miniature_art_history.html.

Images:

Auckland Museum, CC BY 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons.

Rijksmuseum, Dolls’ House of Petronella Oortman.


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