10.12.2008

Dioramas



This post from 3191 is exactly what I've been thinking about doing as a holiday card for us. I love the outside looking in. I've been trying to photograph our family from the outside the cottage looking in for a while now. I'm waiting for perfect autumn light.


I think this appeals to me (and photos of a room taken from another room) because I have always had a big time fascination with dioramas. Remember making them for school? The smell of Elmers glue, construction paper, clay figures. Taking acorns, sticks and leaves to make 3 dimensional details.

There's a place near my parents house where you can see seemingly life-size ones as you float behind them on the waterway. They are giant doll's houses, all lit up in yellow on the inside against the blue evening light. People are at the dinner table or walking through the house. It is so peaceful to see them living their lives silently, walking up stairs and moving through their days. It reminds me of the scene in Steve Zissou where he takes you on a cross section tour of his boat. (I love that this version of the clip is in italian. I adore Wes Anderson movies and Mark Mothersbaugh who does the amazing music moves me so much). There's something about floating on the waterway that takes the eerie Rear Window voyeur feeling away. Their windows are open after all and we keep moving on.

There's an old Indigo Girls song that I love from Swamp Ophelia called Language or The Kiss, that says something like, "There was a table set for six and five were there. I stood outside and kept my eye upon that empty chair. There was steam on the window from the kitchen. Laughter like a language I once spoke with ease."

I really love that.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

When we've driven along The Loop in Chicago on the way to or from a concert, I tend to drop out of conversation for a bit. Staring into the apartments in buildings that rise up right next to the freeway is absolutely irresistible, especially since they all tend to leave those giant windows that look out over Lake Michigan completely uncovered day and night. Now that's good voyeurism.