9 minute read
The Dollmaker
by Aira
Calina
Advertisement
As a little girl growing up just before the turn of the century, my dreams, imaginations, and fears weren’t documented, at least not as instantly as those of today’s kids. My fantasies were, instead, either projected onto my dolls and the “houses” they lived in, or in my crudely honest and unrealistic drawings.
Around the same time, a little girl in China had a mother who handmade her toys. This girl loved drawing with chalk on concrete and enjoyed making boats out of newspapers. One day, her mother took her to the store. When she was inevitably lured into the children’s section, the little girl got her first look at a dollhouse. It was made of wood and stood smack in the middle of the store. She stared at it a long time. That moment sparked a passion she would pursue well into the future.
Fast forward to 20-something years later, I’ve become a writer and my illusionary worlds have since found home in my writings. Min Ding now creates her miniature worlds with her own hands and has become a well-rounded artist.
A Piece of Light 2017 clay, wood 29.9*19.5*19.9in
the artist
New York-based artist Min Ding is a sculptor and animator, among others. That fateful encounter with the dollhouse when she was little was the catalyst for her current passion for miniature scenes, with everything she studied after all playing a part. For example, she always starts with a sketch and uses her painting skill to add more details in her installations. The same skill helps her choose color and build structure. “I like painting. I always start with a sketch to help me improve my idea and I won’t stop painting … I like the two-dimensional effect in Chinese painting very much so I’m trying to make a two-dimensional effect with a three-dimensional sculpture. It all comes from my painter’s background.”
Min believes that art comes from life: the kind of person one is will determine their work. She knows how some people like to watch or see bloodier and more violent scenes, for example, but her lack of that experience won’t let her create it. In her case, the complexity of her craft is contrasted by the simple yet sincere goal of it: purely wanting to show her true feelings.
“One of my former professors is also my friend now, Jennifer Wen Ma. She told me that things are right or wrong, but feeling is not right nor wrong. No matter how you cover it up, happy or sad [feelings] are there.”
When looking at Min’s art, there lurks that feeling of anger and being helpless because you realize the many things you wish you could do. She says it may have something to do with her own pessimistic and negative personality. “I’m very interested in human beings. I like to describe human beings and people’s lives, but I don’t have hope for [their] future, because I think [they] are terrible creatures and a disaster for the earth. Because of human’s progress and curiosity, the world gradually has no sense of mystery. But mystery is a very important part of art.”
Plastic Surgery
Min is no doubt an environmentalist. She dislikes the idea of people trying to erase nature, but can’t help liking their nature. “Japanese animation director Hayao Miyazaki once said that when he took a plane to look down on Japan, he hoped that Japan would be submerged by sea many years later, but when he saw lovely people in the seats beside him, he was lamenting the beauty of life. It is a kind of contradiction and helplessness as a human.”
Min’s bravery and vulnerability have become the greatest factors in becoming who she is today One of her boldest actions was moving to New York where she decided to pursue being a full-time artist.
“I’m afraid of unfamiliar environments but also yearn for challenges, just like I’m very shy and my English is not good but I came to study in America alone.” Such a character, she says, puts her in uncomfortable situations. “Sometimes when I sit on the subway in New York, I suddenly find that there is no Asian face around me. I feel fear and uneasiness instinctively. It is this feeling that stimulates my creation.”
Pool 2016 clay, acrylic board 30* 40*20cm
the creation
Having watched her mother make her toys as a child, Min developed a natural liking to making things by hand.
From the beginning and up until the present, Min has always used air-dry clay, a type especially used for making ball-jointed dolls. Aside from it being perfect for her pieces, she opts for it more often because it’s environmentally friendly, unlike chemical supplies like resin. She does use it from time to time because it’s longer lasting, but its pungent smell doesn’t make it quite ideal.
For Min, to be a sculptor, one must know basic human anatomy, how to make a stable armature for their figure, and how to mold and cast. At the same time, different styles of sculpture technology must be mastered, which can be used for both realistic and expressionist styles. Min says sculptors pay more attention to technology and materials, and that anyone who wants to master the craft would need to be knowledgeable about different clays and other materials and should keep doing tests. “I like watching tutorials on YouTube after trying new materials but mistakes are inevitable. Sometimes I spend a whole day making a mold but because I forgot one step, I lost all my efforts.”
It usually takes Min a month to finish a piece. Some are bigger than others and those would take her two. She normally bases a piece’s diorama from a sketch she prepares for each one. Plagued by the spontaneity of an artist, she sometimes forgets which things she should be building as she starts improvising along the way. “At that time, I recall what is the most thing I want to express,” and that shows in her haunting completed works.
The length of time and amount of effort she pours into a single piece is admirable. The quality is always on point, too, since she doesn’t want her work to be damaged during transport or by collectors. As a sculptor, these are only a few of her struggles.
BTS/Fox Spirit
BTS/Fox Spirit
the struggles
One of the struggles that Min has as a sculptor is that she is also a painter. Although she doesn’t necessarily see it as an issue, she does feel that when she puts up both her installations and paintings in the same exhibition, people are drawn more to the sculptures. “I think I still [need to] explore … I haven’t [found] an appropriate way to show the world in my mind. I want to combine my paintings and figures in the work. In the video Fox Spirit, I drew some miniature ink paintings and put them on the wall as the background. I think it is a good example.”
Despite her extensive history and talent in art, another challenge that Min faces from time to time is the unavoidable feeling of wanting to be as good as other artists who she thinks are amazing. She likes a lot of different artists and finds that when she creates, she unconsciously imitates them. Instinctively, she tries to steer away from that and gains an impulse to form her own style that she can stick to. That, she says, is an essential process.
Fortunately, she doesn’t see it as a problem too big to shrug. “Sometimes when I know other excellent artists, I hope I can have the same ability, but because it’s something I do with my heart, I like it very much even if it’s not perfect. It’s like treating your own children,” she explains. “It’s really like this: as long as you keep practicing, you will find that the work you make is getting better and better. It’s something you like, [and] even if you work hard, you will feel very happy.”
Artists are creators. With that knowledge comes the drive to always put something out—something relevant, hip, trendy. But nobody knows it all, and nobody has to. “As an artist, you don’t need to know everything, but you [should] find your own style; [do it in] the way you are good at and can make a difference.”
Min says that “To be a sculptor, you need to avoid mistakes, and to be an artist, you need to find them. Because sometimes mistakes can lead you to find out the effect that other people didn’t create.” And I’m inclined to agree, because whatever effect Min has found through all her practice sure helped successfully convey her messages.
When I first saw Min’s works, the urge to learn sculpting came to me so suddenly. I didn’t think, “wow, this must be hard,” when I’m sure I knew it was. I didn’t wonder how she must’ve done them, already knowing for a fact it would take someone years to master the craft as Min has. I looked at her pieces and wasn’t greeted with the familiar feeling of art being out of reach—that it was something for a select few—while at the same time finding a deeper-rooted respect for it.
That feeling of intimacy I have towards the pieces is something, but it’s not my favorite thing about Min’s art. It’s that she’s able to present viciously direct subjects without making it feel like they’re being forced onto the viewer. For example, some of her pieces can be controversial but one can look at them and see the hard truths she’s trying to portray (patriarchal ruses, mental health problems, etc.), without the usual difficulty in digesting such pieces. A lot of them are the artist’s personal fears, but we embrace them because they’re some of our own, too.
“My father had a great influence on me when I was young. He is a very traditional male chauvinist, which leads me to have no right to express for many things. This is also part of our culture,” Min recalls. Having come from a place where the young are used to suppressing their thoughts, the swelling desire to express liberating themes of violence, death, and eroticism eventually found its way into her works.
Min Ding, BTS/Beautiful Life
Beautiful Life 35.6*20.23*13in
