Is it art or craft? What’s the difference?

I have been very fortunate in my life to talk to, interview and look at the work of many artists.

It is, of course, because of Miniatura, with which I have been involved for forty years, first as a visitor, then as an exhibitor, then as a reporter.

Miniatura is slightly different from art in the full-size world, for a very good reason.  Artists exhibiting at Miniatura are hoping to sell their work to members of the public; in this respect you might consider them to be no different from artists working in full size.  However, the shoppers and collectors visiting Miniatura are, mostly, members of the public shopping with their own pocket money.

My goodness, what a difference this makes.

Early in the current iteration of the hobby there were visitors to the show who were representing various museums in America which exhibited miniatures.  They came with very large cheque books.  You might well say that this is remarkably similar to the full-sized world, where the size of the cheque books is often remarkable.

In the full-sized world the enormous cheque books are often wafted in the direction of items that are questionably art.  I recall cliffs wrapped in plastic, piles of bricks, urinals, unmade beds, giant balloon animals, paint sprayed through stencils, coils of old rope…

I’m as sure that you can add a lot of items yourself, as I am that you have questioned whether the item in question was art, or, perhaps, was the ‘artist’ some sort of con artist?

There have been very few con artists of any variety at Miniatura for several reasons.  The first is that all exhibitors go through a selection process.  I remember talking to Muriel Hopwood, the founder of Miniatura, who was very firmly of the opinion that some would-be exhibitors would never be good enough to make the grade.  She expressed the view that visitors who had paid good money to get into the hall deserved respect.  The motto of the show is: by miniaturists for miniaturists.

This makes a difference from the start, visitors are shopping with purpose.  Whilst this does mean that you may go with every intention of getting stuff for the house you are currently working on, the quality of the show means that there are irresistible exhibits which  you rehome because they speak to you as art.

Is it art?  If it is intended for a dolls’ house can it be art?

The dictionary has quite a lot to say about art.  ‘Skill, esp. human skill as opposed to nature’ is the first qualification.  This would seem to rule out many of the ‘found objects’ that pass as art in the full-sized world.  Ferrying an unmade bed to a studio from the bedroom, or crowbarring a urinal off a toilet wall, or delivering several hods of bricks from a building site to a gallery, under this consideration, may have more to do with logistics than art.

‘Skill applied to imitation and design’ my dictionary continues. There’s that word again ‘skill’.  It’s a very good word in relation to art, it goes on: ‘thing in which skill may be exercised.’

Then it gets right down to the nitty gritty: ‘certain branches of learning designed as intellectual instruments.’

Here you can see exactly why I like Miniatura so much, if the artists have insufficient skill, they won’t be there.  The selection process ensures the visibility of skill applied to imitation and design.  You only need to talk to some exhibitors for just a few minutes to be left in no doubt of the depth of knowledge and intellect brought to bear on the world in miniature.

You could argue that the whole of miniatures is about skill applied to imitation and design, because the hobby is about replicating something in miniature, convincingly.  Notice I say ‘something’ because it can be anything.  You could replicate a real house, everything in it and all the people at a moment in time, or you could make a miniature version of something that never existed.  Seasoned miniaturists and people with no experience of miniatures at all could tell you whether it was good enough by looking.  The skill that had gone into the reproduction could be apparent, up to a point.

If you use a 3D printer linked to a computer on which you can bring up a photograph which can then be reproduced in miniature, is that art?  Does it demonstrate skill, or does the skill lie with the person who wrote the computer programme that enabled the reproduction? Does the skill lie with the designer of the 3D printer?  Does it lie with the photographer?  Is the skill involved in knowing how to put the process together to produce the desired outcome?

Turning to the dictionary to assist us in finding the truth, if we look up ‘craft’  we find fewer words, which are: skill, cunning, guile; a branch of skilled hand work, and ‘crafty’: dextrous or ingenious.

I would describe craft as the necessary skills in any medium to make the medium work to produce the desired object.  If I gave you a box of watercolour dried paints and you dug the paint blocks out and hammered them into dust, I’d suggest you were unaware of the craft required to make the medium work.  If you knew to wet a paintbrush and rub it on a block to produce colour and then used the brush to apply the paint to a sheet of watercolour paper, I’d say you understood what the craft entailed.  If, after many years of skilful practice you could stand before a view and using the medium, transfer an image of the view on to the paper, I’d say you had learned the craft sufficiently to have the beginnings of art.  If you could paint the picture to show us something more than we could see with our own eyes, say, the fleeting nature of English summer sunshine, or the majesty of a tall sailing ship, I’d say you were an artist.

This brings us back to the notable absence of con artists at Miniatura.  You can tell, not just by looking, but by talking to the exhibitor if it is good of its kind and how much effort has gone into it and whether the effort represents years of acquiring the necessary skill, but there is no way you will splash your hard-earned cash unless it exhibits skill applied to imitation and design.

Miniaturists are particularly good at this because they, themselves, have tried to make art in miniature.  This could be anything from commissioning artists in every field, assessing the suitability of the items produced for the end vision and assembling the finished display, to sweeping the plates off the dining room table to make room for the collection of cereal boxes and the big tub of glue and anything in between.

I love miniaturists, they know what they’re on about because they’ve had a go themselves.

For myself I do both art and craft.  The art you know about, it consists of getting a convincing representation of a person in a difficult and lasting medium out of my head and into existence by the practice of all the skilful steps that are necessary to make it happen.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I also enjoy paper crafting, specifically making cards, here are some of the latest

c1

very pretty easel cards with precious little to do with me.  I buy kits and dies from various manufacturers and put them together.  I like the composition and variety of producing something pretty without much thought, it’s a nice change from the brain-taxing effort required to make an original porcelain doll.

In case you wish to emulate me, the wishing well cards are from www.annagriffin.com and they are further embellished with die cuts made by dies cutting out downloadable artwork from www.carnationcrafts.co.uk 

As to judging whether what you see at Miniatura is art or craft, or learned craft so skilful it has become art, you can judge for yourself at

www.miniatura.co.uk

Scroll along the header bar and click on ‘All the makers’, you’ll find a great deal of food for thought, which may well translate into a list of artists you wish to visit at the next show which is 10th and 11th of October 2026.  The tickets are on sale from May Day, as always I’ll see you there.

In further pursuit of what is art and what is craft and can you do it yourself, I will, as promised, begin a few blogs on all the different ways of making a doll, shortly.  I’m just going to finish having a lovely time creating without much thinking, it isn’t my art, it is art done for me so I can craft and it makes a nice change for a while until my head will not let me rest again until a new doll arrives.

~~~~~~~~~~





Posted in About artists., Miniatura | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Ants.

I’ve got ants.

It’s very depressing.

I do live in a very anty area.  A neighbour once opined she was surprised the entire street hadn’t been moved several feet to the left because of the ants.

Usually however, they’re in the garden.  I have fought them in the garden every year for ages, always wondering where their nest could be.

I found out.

Do you remember my giant lilies in the front garden?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

This picture is from several years ago when there was still a tree beside the giant lilies in their giant pot.

Last year a lady passing by asked if she could have a lily bulb if I ever repotted the lilies.

This year I repotted the lilies.

Lifting the bulbs was difficult, to put it mildly.  They had wedged themselves in, sent shoots under the turned in rim and nearly filled the pot, which was huge.

Some of the pot filling was new baby bulbs, some was old gigantic bulbs, the rest was ants.

So, with difficulty I rescued all the bulbs down to the last third, which was ants and then (spot the bit where I went wrong, no prizes except a feeling of ineffable smugness) I moved the pot from the front garden to the fence near the house to make it easy for myself to put ant powder into the pot at daily intervals.

And, as it turned out, for the ants to move out of the chilly garden into the nice warm house.

First we saw them whizzing along the counter top, maybe coming up from the rarely emptied bottom corner cupboard.  Somewhere under the Formica is a formicarium.

It took a couple of days to move all the stuff out of the cupboard, the end result being a trip to the dump with a car full of 1970’s enamelled cookware.  By the look of it I did nothing in the seventies but buy casserole dishes, pans and dishes with enamel outsides and enamel interiors.  I did save the kettle in case the international situation gets so bad the only way I can make a cup of tea is to balance the old enamel kettle on a bonfire of anything that is left.

Although the tea is in doubt because once the corner bottom cupboard was cleared out the ants made their way to the wall cupboard where I keep the teabags.

So once all the stuff from that cupboard was cleared out, and put everywhere else, I purchased a packet of bait stations and put one in the cupboard instead.

It took them a couple of days to find it, then the cupboard was crawling with ants.  I wanted to put the bait station in the cupboard in a flattened disposable foil tray because there were dire warnings on the packet about the extreme dangers of people, pets and other life forms encountering the bait station poison.  The OH, however, said casually it would be all right and moved the station out of the foil and put it on its own in the cupboard.

For a couple of days activity dwindled.  I decided to leave it one more day, to be sure.

Predictably activity increased, which is when I put the second ant bait station in the cupboard, which very many ants seemed enthused about.

By this stage, a week after the start of proceedings I was quite depressed.  I don’t want to kill anything but I don’t want ants in my kitchen either.

I was coming to terms with it all and then at four o clock..

we had a cup of tea

and at five o clock

I spotted an ant in the bottom of my drained tea cup.

I’m very depressed again and if I have the urge to lie on my back and wave all six legs in the air, I leave the dolls to my collectors, my crafting stuff to anyone who can be bothered to take it and my new, extremely expensive Prima Donna bras to Smalls for All in Edinburgh.

Whoever first vouchsafed that we should not sweat the small stuff, either did not have ants or did have a pet aardvark, or just never had an ant in their tea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted in About artists. | Tagged | Leave a comment

Box clever.

It is the second weekend since Miniatura and I still have a hall full of wheeled cases and assorted exhibiting stuff.

My paraphernalia is mild compared to other exhibitors.  Some have very large vans, especially if they are showing houses, as you might expect.  Some have huge boards to put on top of the table to extend it, especially if they have a lot of very small sundries and accessories to show in partitioned baskets.

I only can have what I can fit in my car, which is a ten year old Volkswagen UP.  As there is only me I do have a bit of wiggle room without a passenger, nevertheless, the exhibition sundries occupy more room in the car than the dolls.

Some of the sundries are items you might expect such as table cloths and stands.  I spent a long time working out how to display dolls so that they could be picked up and put down again safely. Leaning, in a box, is the answer, so that the boxes themselves have been propped on a range of leaning devices.  For years they were on metal picture tripods. inherited from my father’s antique shop and picture gallery, until I bit the bullet and actually purchased wooden stands for artists to paint pictures on.  These stand on boxes which I made and covered so that  some of the dolls are at eye level.  Visitors like to look at a doll often before they pick it up and everyone complains of back ache at the end of a long weekend, so I like to get as much as possible into a viewer-friendly area.  The art easels have an arrangement at the base like deck chair feet, so that the rake can be varied, so that dolls can fall back into the boxes easily.

All of this ancillary stuff takes up space in the car, going in various containers but the packaging takes up an entire wheeled case of its own.

When I began, dolls were rehomed in paper bags.  Many exhibitors still do sell their wares in paper bags, which would be the packaging of choice if you were selling ribbon, for example.

Over the years, talking to collectors and being a collector myself I have realised the importance of packaging at the fair.  For a start many miniaturists have travelled a long way to get to Miniatura, I know my dolls live all around the world.  The packaging has to be strong enough to survive a journey.  I also know that many of my dolls live in packaging waiting for a house to be built for them to live in.  Some dolls are part of a collection without a house and can be displayed in rotation.

Whatever the reason the packaging is important to keep the doll safe, sometimes for years.

I make most of my own.  I spend many hours researching dies to make various boxes.  I am so glad to have a die cutting machine which is so much faster than measuring and cutting card with a craft knife, which I used to do years ago.  It still takes a few days of hard work to cut all the replacement boxes after a fair and stick them all together.  For a while I had Gladstone bags in light card for the twelfth scale dolls, but I decided this fair they weren’t strong enough and instead have bought white postal card boxes, for the twelfth scale dolls.  Anyone under three inches tall goes in a matchbox made by me.  I have just found a third size of matchbox dies, which I am very happy about, they will fit the new lad perfectly, being long and slim.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I think matchboxes are just the right thing for the dolls, even if they never get anywhere near a dolls’ house.  It is perfect to have a real, articulated, invisibly jointed, original artist porcelain doll, in miniature, living in a matchbox.

That’s what miniatures should be about, I think.  If you never get further than a collection, a collection of wonders in matchboxes pretty much defines the hobby, I would say.

What do you think?

~~~~~~~~

Posted in Dolls, Miniatura | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Spring Min.

I love Miniatura.  I used to love it because it is the best show for Dolls’ House Miniatures that there is.  It still is.

I loved it because all the exhibitors are hand-picked and I was proud to be one of them, I still am.

But most of all I loved it because of the people, both visitors and exhibitors.  Miniatura always was and will be a huge hall full of like-minded people.  People who choose to minimise their troubles and focus on the tiny world they make to their own specifications, rather than big world troubles which they cannot do anything about.  You still have to live them.  If you have a problem body, a difficult family, wrong funds, wrong job and a horrible backstory, miniatures doesn’t take any of that away.  What the hobby does is it gives you a breathing space so you can deal with the awful stuff with equanimity.

To be in a hall full of wonderful people who don’t let the awfulness of life get to them, is incredibly uplifting.  It’s not often you see people in shops hugging each other but you see it at the Min all the time.  It’s a hall full of brave people smiling.

As always I was the last exhibitor to finish packing up and go.  A thousand porcelain things have to be packed carefully.  I try to do reverse order from putting out but inevitably dolls have wandered round the table.  I am still exhausted but the weather is so sunny, I’ve been out painting the fence and gardening. After the next bit of gardening I will do the garage and all the books and then I will repack all the trolleys with boxes, ready for next time.

10th and 11th October is the next show, be like the savviest visitors and book your tickets now.  Some people do, you know.  Like me for the last nearly forty years, they live from show to show.

Reality is rubbish and frequently disappointing, currently in large parts of the world the baddies seem to be winning.

Miniatura has always been good and is getting better, it is the place where the miniature world meets, for hugs for love, for amazement, for a great day out.

I love Miniatura (did I mention it?)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted in Dolls, Miniatura | Tagged | Leave a comment

New newness.

There will be a box of new dolls.

So far, in it are the lads, who are teenagers, and the lady, who is the doll inspired by Leonardo’s Annunciation.  On the moulds I’ve written BVM. but in the box I’ve labelled her the lady.

I wasn’t sure, last time I posted, if I could properly wig them all.  The difference between gluing hair directly to a head and sewing a proper wig cap is about a day of time but I think for some dolls the results are superior.  Here is the scruffy boy with his sewn wig

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I could not get this amount of hair, tumbling round the face if I just glued it to the head.  It moves, like real hair, is rooted (by very many tiny stitches) to the leather wig cap and can be brushed.  It is brushable with a dry toothbrush.  If the hair is a bit flyaway, you spray brush-out human hairspray on to the toothbrush bristles and brush the hair which will then lie flat but is brush out if necessary.

These dolls are all properly dressed with sewn clothing and, because of the wigs and the fourteen pieces of porcelain, are going to cost £28 each.  For something hand made, designed and brought into being by one person, I think that is reasonable.  These days if I buy a tee shirt made in a factory for that, I think I’m doing well, and I don’t expect the tee shirt to last hundreds of years, which the porcelain will do.  It’s a proper heirloom.  In the future you (or your descendants) can remove the clothing, surface wash the porcelain and redress the doll, just as two foot tall Victorian porcelain dolls in museums have been enjoyed and cared for for the last two hundred years.

Many years ago, I was very upset at a show when a visitor grabbed two of my dolls and said she was going to have ‘two of these cheapies’.  When I was a collector, going without dinners to buy something at a fair, I valued every single purchase.  Moving to the other side of the show table I priced accordingly, which does mean I’m working for 40p an hour.  Luckily I’m not doing it for the money, I’m doing it for love.

It’s love which makes the miniature world go round.

Would that reality were the same.

If you love miniatures and you love collecting and you love a lovely day out at Miniatura…

www.miniatura.co.uk

Visitors to shows do ask me, because I wrote for magazines for so long and interviewed many artisans, which miniatures are good value, and, sometimes, which are overpriced.  It’s a very interesting topic.  After Miniatura I will begin to answer the question by showing you plenty of the different ways in which you can make a doll.

One of the wonderful aspects of the hobby is the way in which it caters for all hobbyists at all levels of ability and all pockets.  I will write more of this.  Meanwhile the age old advice to buy the thing you really love is still true.

When I  was a shopper long ago, I never failed to come home from a show regretting some item I did not buy.  What you need to do to be happy, is to work out which item that is, at the show, and buy it.  If you are on a budget don’t be afraid to ask the seller if they could do a lay away plan for you so you could buy something a month at a time.  They are, after all, there to sell.  The worst they could say is no.  The great thing about Miniatura is that it is a hall filled with over a hundred hand-picked top-class artists.  There will be lots of things you love and I’m sure you will find and afford a few.  Don’t forget to invest in the brochure, it has the contact details of the exhibitors, if there was something someone else got to first, you could contact the exhibitor and ask if they could make one for you too.

See you there!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted in Dolls, Miniatura | Tagged | Leave a comment

The shoe smalls redemption.

Having escaped from shoelessness, the new fourteen part ladies all now have underwear.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Without even brushing their hair, they all immediately started shopping for shoes.

As you can see they all have substantial knickers.  I’ve given them these because the knickers in question are pretty much all-era.

I remember, and have already recorded here, somewhere, in a visit to a Tudor property being told by the guide that Tudor ladies did not wear knickers.  This, the guide informed us, was a certainty because no knickers had been found.

This is only true in that no one has found a pair of unmentionables, labelled Tudor knickers; of course they wore them.  I am willing to suggest that you could probably see some in situ if you disinterred a few Tudor corpses.  They might be in quite a state, here we might recall Elizabeth the First being famous for having a bath once a year whether she needed it or not.  We also know that Tudor ladies wore layers and layers of clothing to keep various bodily fluids away from incredibly expensive hand-embroidered overskirts and bodices.  Clothing museums can provide evidence that sleeves were removable and ventilated under the arms and that for several centuries ladies carried, or hung from a belt, a pomander, which might be as simple as an orange stuck with cloves.  I have made these as a present for various aunties, in the 1950s, when there was a fashion for them.  As the orange withers it shrinks, holding the cloves in tightly, without the need for glue.  Decorated with ribbon and a hanging loop, this item actually looks very Elizabethan.  Hanging in an airing cupboard it does give a pleasant, slightly citrus, air freshener quality.  If you only had a bath once a year you would probably want to go around festooned with pomanders.

We do know Queen Victoria wore separate leg knickers, tied at the waist, embroidered with her monogram, because several pairs are in existence.  I have myself been offered a pair to purchase, long ago, in an antique shop, whether they were genuinely hers, I cannot say, but they were extremely substantial and had a stout band at the knee into which voluminous quantities of pale cream silk was gathered, making the whole garment resemble silk plus fours, despite being a garment of two halves.

My grandmother liked to sit by the fire in the lounge.  In the winter, when there was just me and her, she would turn her skirt up and get her knees warm, without any danger of exposing anything because of the solid nature of her directoire knickers, which were made of pink silk.  These were very obviously direct descendants of Queen Victoria’s knickers, which, as my grandmother was born in 1888, is not surprising.

Costume historians will tell you that there is a tendency for underwear to become outer wear over time and that the reverse is sometimes true, however, some arrangements are due to the shape of the body.  Women are designed to bear children, the situation of the relevant areas in context with the legs more or less making the engineering decisions for the underwear designer.  It is the fragile nature of the textiles which is partly responsible for the undergarments in question not to have survived.  Where undergarments are made of more robust materials, they have survived intact.

For hundreds of years the breasts were housed in a shift, a tubular garment, gathered round the top, usually made of linen. Few of these have survived.  Over the shift and under the breast went the leather corset, a garment with or without shoulder straps, placed round the upper torso and laced at the front.  There are examples in the costume museum at Bath and they are absolutely filthy.

The reason they are there is that for centuries from before Roman times onward, mineral springs at Bath were supposed to be efficacious in relieving many ailments.  By Tudor times and into the Regency families who had brought sickly relatives for the cure found that they could defray the cost of dealing with an unexpected corpse by selling the individual’s clothing.  Hence the area became a centre for the second hand clothing trade.

Leather corsets, even well worn, must have had a resale value to have ended up in the museum, though I personally would have shrunken from trying them on, even in the interests of costume research.

In these days of online second-hand Roses, it is easy to understand the attraction of pre-loved clothing in the past.  As a child I inherited clothing from cousins and did not feel badly done to, it was expected of a garment that had plenty of wear in it that it would be passed on.

In the present we are textile rich, for some of us clothes are almost disposable, a situation capitalised on by the clothing industry, who would like to persuade us, via a catwalk, of the absolute necessity of having new fashion every season.

In the past just having clothing at all was desirable.  My mother, winning a colouring competition before WW2, was taken by her mother to the police station to donate part of her winnings to the shoeless children’s fund that was run country-wide at the time by the Police.

Here we come closer to the reason for no knickers surviving from long ago.  Not only were textiles unlikely to escape being blasted to bits by the rigours of life, the bits that did survive were too valuable to hoard or throw away.  My mother used my father’s old string vests as polishing cloths, because her mother had done the same.  Interestingly my father handed on his vests when they developed holes.  How could he tell?  String vests are made of holes.  Inquiring, I was told that the cloth held polish well, and anyway, all old clothes eventually ended up as dusters.

You may not believe this because we live in an age where you can actually buy purpose-made dusters. In the eighteenth century they’d have thought anyone wasting time, energy and resources actually making dusters was insane.  Just a couple of centuries earlier any pieces of cloth so disintegrated as to have turned into rags and shreds, were called bombast, sold and traded and used to stuff the inflated legs of Tudor breeches, from which we get the term for puffed up with rubbish: bombastic.

This is where the remnants of the knickers ended up. If John Donne thought it was romantic that a flea who bit his girlfriend then bit him, I am willing to bet that Tudor popinjays absolutely got their rocks off striding round with their girlfriend’s old knickers stuffed up their breeches.  If they were that far out they may very well have had the stringy remnants of several previous paramours’ panties up there as well.

So pants to no knickers.  My dolls have nicely made silk knickers and lacily clad substantial knockers, because they are two and a half inch, fourteen part original artist porcelain dolls and they deserve the best of everything.

See for yourself this time next week.  Details at www.miniatura.co.uk

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted in Dolls, Miniatura | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Something underhand afoot.

It’s going to get quieter round here for a while as the show draws nearer and there is only a week to go.  I have spent the last few days making shoes.

My new fourteen part lady dolls have bare feet.  Like all my porcelain dolls with bare feet, they have proper toes and glazed toe nails.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

And, like any woman under  two and a half inches and any real woman of any size, they like to choose their own shoes.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

These shoes are very small, well they would have to be, to fit the feet.

They have been made just like full size shoes with parts cut out and then glued and sewn on a last, even though they are small.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Here is the same shoe balanced on the forefinger of the maker.  They are sewn all the way round and the soles are sewn on too.  They are leather and they are very soft and comfortable.

When I was a child I had to wear Inner Raise Shoes because I had flat feet.  They were made of leather but felt like iron.  My father used to beat  the backs at the heels with a hammer but they still hurt, for the first few weeks of school I wore sticking plasters over my bleeding heels.

Therefore my doll’s shoes, though made of leather and properly sewn

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

are soft and gentle and won’t hurt anyone.

See for yourself in just over a week. Details here: www.miniatura.co.uk

~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted in Dolls, Miniatura | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Smallest yet.

Look, look!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I have managed a brushable wig on a two and a half inch doll with a head the size of a pea!

I have brushed it, so can any future owner.

Oh wow.

The head is about the size of your little finger nail and I have wigged it. With a real sewn wig you can brush like a wig for a human.

Crikey!  The world is our lobster.

I’m going to have a cup of tea and see if I can do it again.

See this marvel for yourself at this show:  www.miniatura.co.uk

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted in Dolls, Miniatura | Tagged | Leave a comment

New dolls for Spring Min 2026

Despite all the everything, there will be five new dolls at Spring Min from me.

When I say new dolls I do mean absolutely new porcelain dolls that have gone through all the processes necessary to bring them to life.  These are ceramic artefacts that are real heirlooms for your dolls’ house, in that the material they are made of and the traditional way in which they are made, but in miniature, will last for hundreds of years, I do not use dubious new materials or rely on glue, removable paint or anything else transitory.  They are new in that each one started out as a sculpture or a collection of articulating sculpted parts that can move together and stand just as you do.  Here they all are in one photo, standing on their own.  They have not been glued to the floor, they stand because I build the balance in from the start.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

From the ruler behind them you can see that these are twenty fourth scale or smaller.  Three are dolls to be residents in your dolls’ house and two are to be dolls for your dolls.

Let’s look one by one.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Here is the lad.  In real life he would be five feet tall, in 24th scale he is two and a half inches.  He is a teenage boy.  He is composed of fourteen pieces of porcelain internally jointed.  As you can see, he can sit, he can point, he can move his head.  How do you see him dressed?  Do you see a mediaeval apprentice?  Do you see a modern kid with a baseball cap on backwards?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Here is the toddler.  This is the most articulated, internally jointed very small doll so far.  He (or she) is composed of ten pieces of porcelain, at an inch and a quarter in porcelain, this small person is a toddler in 24th scale, or, if you have suddenly felt a need, a small baby in twelfth scale.  He, she, or it can sit, stand and crawl.  What era should this toddler live in?  Is he a tiny Tudor?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Here is my new lady.  I think she is gorgeous, though you may not be able to see it until she is dressed.  She can sit, stand, do aerobics, turn her head and is only just under two and a half inches.  That makes her a five foot woman, which many women were through history.  Her face, which is easiest to see on the doll at the front, was inspired by Leonardo’s Mary, who I met in the Uffizi.  She is fourteen pieces of porcelain and has bare feet, so she could live in a bedroom in night attire.

Those are the three new people.  Below are the doll’s dolls.  I have been making dolls’ dolls for a few years now and they are reasonably faithful to the real historic dolls they miniaturise.  Both the dolls this time are recent.

The first is the jointed 1930s doll, which I have been making and shrinking for some time.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

This doll is now down to one inch.  Although the original was a 1930s doll, if you are not very particular about timing, this type of doll has been known throughout history.  It is a simple head/body shape with arms and legs jointed by means of a hole through the body that will admit some form of stringing, whether wire, or, in some areas of the world, rope or string.  This doll is one inch tall and looks good as a doll’s doll in twelfth scale and works as a larger doll in 24th scale.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Finally the one piece doll, the Frozen Charlotte.  This has been a very long time in the making and is a nightmare to clean prior to firing.  One slip of the scalpel, one over enthusiastic rub and it’s a dead doll in the bin.  Why on earth would I want to make something as difficult?  It is, of course, the historical aspect.  There are quite a few of these one piece dolls surviving in museums that were made in large quantities, often by child slave labour, in Victorian factories.  In large, because they are only one piece of porcelain and not quite as awful to rub down, they are cheaper to make.  In a kiln, a doll of five parts takes up a lot of room.  You can get about three one part dolls in the same amount of space.  The hair and shoes were china painted, all that remained to make a saleable doll cheaply, was a bit of lace or gathered ribbon and there is the china doll most families could afford to buy from the pedlar’s tray.

She was called Frozen Charlotte because of a Victorian cautionary tale of proud Charlotte, who went for a sleigh ride without her shawl because she wanted everyone to see her pretty dress.  Charlotte arrived at the end of the ride frozen solid.  I have not been able to find out if the tale came before the doll or was invented to sell the doll, either way if you had said ‘Frozen Charlotte doll’ to any Victorian they would have known what you meant.

I may try to shrink Charlotte a bit further.  The originals came in many sizes, quite a few had the legs welded together and the arms outstretched, often they were made of white glazed china.  I didn’t weld the legs on my doll so that she would stand up.  If I had welded the legs there would be a lot more dolls.  I’m my own worst enemy, I really am.

Now it is over to you.  I would like to know, if you are going to Spring Min and intend to collect one of these, how you would like a doll to be dressed.  Does one of these dolls look like someone you have been looking for?  Is this your housekeeper?  Is this your Regency lady?  Your Renaissance Mary?

There is no obligation if you do ask for a doll to be dressed, if you get to the show and the doll is not what you fancied after all.  I ask because, as you can see, these dolls are difficult to make, it’s taken thirty three years, so there are not many of them.  I would like to dress the doll you’d like for your house. Of course, because of they way they are made, you can dress and redress them, and so can your descendants.  Do not confuse these with polymer clay dolls with the clothes stuck on, or dolls with wire bodies that have to be dressed right down to their wrists.  These dolls will look as good as they do in the pictures, in very little clothing.  They’ll look great in swimwear, or twenties off-the-shoulder dresses.  They are just like you.

I know if you are coming to the show for the first time you’ll want to know how much.  My ten part twenty fourth scale dolls are £25 dressed and these amazing fourteen part internally strung, articulated dolls will be £27, which, in a hundred years, will probably be the cost of a sandwich.  (Aren’t you glad you’re living now?)  I may make dolls with brushable hair, as I do in twelfth scale.  These will cost a bit more if I decide to try, because each wig takes a day to make.  It won’t be much more, it’s me, all my prices were fossilized, long ago.

To tell me your wishes simply click on the bit below where it says ‘leave a comment’.  I will see you at the show.  I have made a new box for these dolls to live in and I’ll put a sign on it saying ‘new dolls’ so you won’t have to look at all the one thousand things on the table to find them, though if you want to do so, please do.  That is why I am going.  Forty years ago, visiting Miniatura, I wanted a doll and could only find a few that all looked the same.  I wanted a doll that looked like a doll, not like a person.  In my world people were the problem, I thought the dolls’ house should have dolls in it, that looked like dolls and were art and were collectable and could be played with.

So I made them.

See you there.

www.miniatura.co.uk

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted in Dolls, Miniatura | Tagged | Leave a comment

New dolls.

It is two weeks to Miniatura at Stoneleigh.

I am glad of that because I’ve been ill again with intestinal trouble but I’ve got enough time to get better and all I want to do is sit quietly and assemble dolls.

This is a good thing.  I will have five new dolls to show, all small 24th scale and under.  I am so glad I used the high temperature wire I used for the Egyptians.  I wish I had used it for the kittens, but it just looked too weedy.  It has to be, to enable the stringing. Stringing is still an immense difficulty.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

You can see why.  This is the upper arm of a doll.  I do not have big hands.  This arm has emerged from the mould quite soft with hopefully enough of a hole in it for the elastic to pass through.  When it had dried I had to be able to hold it and rub it to remove the seam lines and imperfections, and make the end you can see round enough and empty enough for the lower arm to fit inside it.  You can see how easily it could be broken, just holding it, before it had turned to stone in the kiln. There is a hole which I have made at one end which has to let the elastic out. The hole cannot be too big, if it is the next joint will not sit in place, it cannot be too small, or the jewellery elastic will not pass, the difference is fractions of a millimetre.  On the mat are many arms,  and some thighs, some distorted in the kiln, some I broke when cleaning, some will have fired with a hole too small to let the elastic pass.

The dolls I am making, are, like the Ancient Egyptians, composed of fourteen parts of porcelain, internally strung and moveable and poseable, their hands and feet swivel, their elbows and knees work, their heads move, they will all last hundreds of years.

Stringing the arms is not too difficult.  Stringing the bodies is fiendishly difficult.  I make wire stringing hooks from the 32 Gauge wire I used to make earring hooks for twelfth scale dolls.   It’s thin, it breaks, it has to curve in the armhole of the body and out of the neck, bending invisibly inside where I cannot see what it is doing.  I am only able to do this after thirty three years of practice.  Thirty three years ago there would have been swearing and giving up but I am now in the far reaches of impossibility.  As I have done it once, I know I can do it.  There is a huge wastage rate.  I have trays of tiny bits of porcelain that are just no good.

However, there will be new dolls.  Stay tuned, I’ll show you soon.

www.miniatura.co.uk

~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted in Dolls, Miniatura | Tagged | Leave a comment