An international exhibition at the Leepa-Rattner Museum of Art proves that size doesn't always matter. Miniature art, sometimes dismissed as precious and gimmicky, can stand on its own.
By LENNIE BENNETT
Published February 5, 2004
Heide Presse, Figure Study, graphite pencil, 41&Mac218;2 by 4 inches.
TARPON SPRINGS - In a world where Big Gulp and supersized are standard measurements of consumer satisfaction, the small in scale might seem to have little place, even in the art world. There, too, we frequently gravitate to the larger-than-life.
So what are we to make of miniature art that, let's face it, has not been called to the banquet table of mainstream art? It's often considered precious. Gimmicky. Or, dreaded word, popular.
I confess to snobbishness in my attitude toward miniature art. I put it in the same league as painted doilies.
I was wrong.
The annual juried international exhibition at the Leepa-Rattner Museum of Art, sponsored by the Miniature Art Society of Florida, contains some very deft work. There is also, to be sure, a fair share of prosaic landscapes, conventional portraits, even sentimental, "cute" paintings of dancing animals. But within the group of 900 paintings, prints, drawings, sculptures and mixed media is art worth noting.
Size is the only unifying principle, everything reduced to about one-sixth real life. The technical skill so many of these artists deploy in taking things down is different from reductive art that takes things away. As they demonstrate, a lot of life - both literal and psychological - can be packed into a small frame.
Miniature art can trace its origins to the earliest illuminated manuscripts, in which monks embellished Scripture with beautiful calligraphic flourishes and, in time, small illustrations. Sherri Trial carries on that tradition, but in the modern way of calligraphers, matching medium to message. Exquisitely rendered lettering on vellum that spells out a variety of literary texts, from Ecclesiastes to a Spanish quotation written in that language and English, have complementary stylistic flourishes in gold and opaque watercolors.
Fallahi Hossein of Iran also hearkens back to earlier times, using paints, inks and gold leaf on camel bone in scenes of temples, palaces and maharajah that emulate ancient Persian art.
The work by two artists, Edward Dyas of Tasmania and Heidi Presse of Tampa, show such finesse and nuance using only graphite pencils in drawings loaded with psychologically complex details. Dyas is a well-known master of the miniature; Save the Best for Last is officially not for sale, but a collector who really wanted it could probably dicker starting with an asking price of $20,000, said Kay Petryszak, one of the show's organizers. It's a beaut, something like those 19th century genre paintings of a family gathered around a dinner table. There's also a bit of Norman Rockwell in it, but un-Rockwellian is the infusion of telling individual attitudes that seem subversive to the surface harmony. Presse's Figure Study of a young girl in peasant dress also recalls the 19th century, except that her back is turned to us and she is drawn against a blank background - both modern touches. Her thick blond hair is subdued in a braid, but a breeze loosens strands as she balances a bowl on one hip, pausing perhaps in her chores. We approach her almost as voyeurs, wishing she'd turn around.
Most of the work is representational, so coming upon the cubist collages by Airi M. Foote and oil paintings by Daniel Hanequand that look like a mind meld of surrealism and constructivism is a bit like a bracing lemon sorbet served to cleanse the palate. As are the witty paper constructions by Doug Roy, scenes ranging from The Penguin Dressed for Dinner, a take on Noah's ark, to a beachside hacienda titled Casa Del Sol that have a folk art feel.
Prints also make a good showing; a copper engraving by Roy Cooney of a Norwegian church has an old masters' monochromatic dignity that juxtaposes well with the colorful etchings and aquatints used by Angela Gill for her bathing women with Rubenesque curvaceousness.
Much of the exhibition is composed of oil and watercolor painting. In general, I will say that the British watercolor artists show a superior talent for their medium, with more control over the difficult technique of stippling the paint on with a dry brush, which produces more tonal depth. And the dividing line for many artists working in oils seems to be in the stylistic choices they make. Many of the landscapes and still lifes are proficient, but some are more compelling in a way that others are not, such as Presse's composition of silver pitchers grouped with pears on a linen-swathed table and its treatment of reflective surfaces, and Gerald L. Lubeck's landscape, a graceful pastoral with thick brush strokes that avoids cliche.
The Leepa-Rattner folks tell me that this show has drawn record numbers of visitors - more than 4,000 - and the place was pleasantly humming during my visit. And unlike most museum shows, most of the work is for sale. Miniature art clearly has an audience; it just hasn't had critical credibility. Most of the artists who submitted work don't limit themselves to small-scale work but do these as a diversion from other projects, much the way many artists like to switch back and forth among media. A really interesting show might pair some of the better artists' miniature work with their other art. I also think a general exhibition such as this would benefit from tighter editing. Small can be better, maybe not in to-go cups but sometimes in art and in art exhibitions.
REVIEW
The 29th annual International Miniature Art Show is at the Leepa-Rattner Museum of Art, 600 Klosterman Road, Tarpon Springs, through Sunday. Museum hours are 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. today, 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Friday and Saturday and 1 to 5 p.m. Sunday. Admission: $5 adults, $4 seniors, free to students and children. Sunday is free. (727) 712-5762.
