Miniature worlds
Mar. 3rd, 2026 06:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shewhomustBy a lucky fluke, I learned about the 'Miniature Worlds' exhibition at the Lang Art Gallery before it closed. Here's an introduction:
I'm always happy to admire Bewick's tailpieces; I enjoy the crazy grandeur of John Martin's massive scenes, and was curious how this would translate to a small scale; and was that really an invitation to meet Tenniel's original Alice? So last Thursday I called in on my way to my reading group (the gallery is conveniently next door to the library).
Verdict in short: there were many good things, not all of them the ones I expected.
There is no single verdict at length: unless it is that I found no single line of argument running through the exhibition. So this is a series of rambling remarks - in fact, I'll lean into that by making them into a list.
Most of the section devoted to 'Contemporary Considerations' left me completely unmoved. But I did enjoy the selection of Paul Coldwell's miniature Antarctic scenes, including this bronze killer whale threatening some penguins:
Note the thumbprints, a reference to the human impact on the Antarctic landscape, but also a nod the tailpiece in which Bewick carves his own thumbprint across whatever subject might have been planned.
I'm always happy to admire Bewick's tailpieces; I enjoy the crazy grandeur of John Martin's massive scenes, and was curious how this would translate to a small scale; and was that really an invitation to meet Tenniel's original Alice? So last Thursday I called in on my way to my reading group (the gallery is conveniently next door to the library).
Verdict in short: there were many good things, not all of them the ones I expected.
There is no single verdict at length: unless it is that I found no single line of argument running through the exhibition. So this is a series of rambling remarks - in fact, I'll lean into that by making them into a list.
- It's already obvious from that introductory video that the focus on 'miniature worlds' is not absolute: not every small beauty is a landscape, though the landscapes, in a fairly loose definition of the word, were what I liked best.
- Least exciting: Beatrix Potter's illustrations, charming though they are, are the right size for her little books, only small compared to the traditional gallery canvas: and the landscape element is incidental to her portraits of her characters. Likewise Tenniel's Alice - and I was disappointed to discover that what was on show were not Tenniel's original, but the engravings made from them by the Dalziel brothers.
- On the other hand, I was mesmerised by some Turner watercolour scenes painted as illustrations to the poems of Samuel Rogers (more information and examples here) displayed alongside the engravings made of them by Edward Goodall. Fancy being presented with Turner's delicate wash snow scene, and having to translate it into lines cut in metal...
- Does this suggest that I find the process more interesting than the artwork? Not always: though there was something magical about the display of Bewick engravings alongside preliminary watercolour sketches and just one tiny woodblock. Magnifying glasses were provided so that you could see where Bewick had reconsidered, and given his snowman a pipe that wasn't there in the sketch.
- Seeing this cluster of mountains out of the corner of my eye, I thought it was familiar, and wondered whether, with the aid of that magnifying glass, I'd be able to spot some Moomins. In fact, I suspect that familiarity comes from its inclusion in a calendar of Eric Ravilious woodcuts I had a year or so back (and which I put in a safe place and can't now find). What was not familiar was how small it is: perhaps as big as the palm of my hand. Stepping up close, peering in through that glass, I really did feel I was stepping into a miniature world.
- Footnote: I did covet the side plate with a lakeside scene, designed by Ravilious for Wedgwood's 'Travel' set. But, after watching this excellent video about Ravilious's association with the V & A, I was startled to find myself coveting a coronation mug...
- Thinking about those missing Moomins brought home to me how very English (British? No, I think English is right) the exhibition was. Was this a curatorial choice, or does the preoccupation with miniature worlds say something about us as a nation?
Most of the section devoted to 'Contemporary Considerations' left me completely unmoved. But I did enjoy the selection of Paul Coldwell's miniature Antarctic scenes, including this bronze killer whale threatening some penguins:
Note the thumbprints, a reference to the human impact on the Antarctic landscape, but also a nod the tailpiece in which Bewick carves his own thumbprint across whatever subject might have been planned.
