In attempts to describe the heart of the creative process, words often fail. There are only a handful of things that can’t be quantified using scales, graphs or charts. Artistic passion is one of those things.
The short documentary Rebuilding in Miniature by Veena Rao provides a rare chance to see the world through the eyes of an artist – a maker of miniatures – analyzing the creator’s motivations surrounding his art. The documentary is the closest thing to an invitation to experience the emotion and artistic passion that goes into the art of crafting miniatures. The name of the subject of the documentary is artist Ali Alamedy. His pieces of art come in the form of beautifully crafted miniature scenes of real-life places. None of his pieces feature people or animals within the actual space of the created environments. There’s no human life explicitly apparent. However, Alamedy’s artistic fingerprint is apparent in every detail of his handcrafted environments.
Each of his miniatures are undoubtedly beautiful pieces of art. Extremely lifelike, the miniature environments are not sets made for stop motion purposes. However, they could very well be “brought to life” through means of stop motion (I mean absolute respect when I say this). Yet Alamedy’s miniatures offer a unique perspective not often explored in stop motion, and that is the experience of seeing the art and detail built into the tiniest of details of the intricately crafted world which often are unfortunately glanced over by the camera in stop motion films, which are primarily focused on the action happening within a place.
Alamedy, as he explains in the documentary, finds peace in creating his miniatures and in pouring himself into crafting even the most minute details. “When I sit and work, I stop thinking of anything else. I can’t think of anything else because all my attention is poured into the piece I'm making,” says Alamedy. His miniatures are modeled after places from all around the world: London, New York City, France, Habana and in certain pieces such as his most recent project – a twentieth-century photography studio – undefined locations.
Originally from Iraq, Alamedy has curiously never made a miniature scene modeled after his homeland. “I never truly felt I belonged to the area and the environment where I grew up,” Alamedy says. “I haven’t made anything from my own culture. Maybe because at the moment, I don’t feel qualified to do something from Iraq. My son once asked me, ‘Dad, what does ‘homeland’ mean?’ Honestly, I didn't know how to answer him. I didn’t know how to define ‘homeland,’ because I’ve never felt what it is. I hope that one day soon I can answer him.” The ideas in Alamedy’s statement create the central focal point of the whole documentary. This statement is quite profound, and within it there are numerous deep philosophical ideas: the idea that one’s homeland isn’t necessarily “home” to the person born in it, and that the true meaning of “homeland” could be more a feeling than a physical place that can be pinpointed on a map; the idea that art is an expression of one’s self that the creator can find solace in and their own sense of “home.” Alamedy muses at the end of the documentary, “I hope that when I leave this life these [Alamedy’s miniatures] will be something people will remember me by. When things get better, I hope I can do something about Iraq that brings joy for myself and for my viewers.”
The short documentary Rebuilding in Miniature by Veena Rao provides a rare chance to see the world through the eyes of an artist – a maker of miniatures – analyzing the creator’s motivations surrounding his art. The documentary is the closest thing to an invitation to experience the emotion and artistic passion that goes into the art of crafting miniatures. The name of the subject of the documentary is artist Ali Alamedy. His pieces of art come in the form of beautifully crafted miniature scenes of real-life places. None of his pieces feature people or animals within the actual space of the created environments. There’s no human life explicitly apparent. However, Alamedy’s artistic fingerprint is apparent in every detail of his handcrafted environments.
Each of his miniatures are undoubtedly beautiful pieces of art. Extremely lifelike, the miniature environments are not sets made for stop motion purposes. However, they could very well be “brought to life” through means of stop motion (I mean absolute respect when I say this). Yet Alamedy’s miniatures offer a unique perspective not often explored in stop motion, and that is the experience of seeing the art and detail built into the tiniest of details of the intricately crafted world which often are unfortunately glanced over by the camera in stop motion films, which are primarily focused on the action happening within a place.
Alamedy, as he explains in the documentary, finds peace in creating his miniatures and in pouring himself into crafting even the most minute details. “When I sit and work, I stop thinking of anything else. I can’t think of anything else because all my attention is poured into the piece I'm making,” says Alamedy. His miniatures are modeled after places from all around the world: London, New York City, France, Habana and in certain pieces such as his most recent project – a twentieth-century photography studio – undefined locations.
Originally from Iraq, Alamedy has curiously never made a miniature scene modeled after his homeland. “I never truly felt I belonged to the area and the environment where I grew up,” Alamedy says. “I haven’t made anything from my own culture. Maybe because at the moment, I don’t feel qualified to do something from Iraq. My son once asked me, ‘Dad, what does ‘homeland’ mean?’ Honestly, I didn't know how to answer him. I didn’t know how to define ‘homeland,’ because I’ve never felt what it is. I hope that one day soon I can answer him.” The ideas in Alamedy’s statement create the central focal point of the whole documentary. This statement is quite profound, and within it there are numerous deep philosophical ideas: the idea that one’s homeland isn’t necessarily “home” to the person born in it, and that the true meaning of “homeland” could be more a feeling than a physical place that can be pinpointed on a map; the idea that art is an expression of one’s self that the creator can find solace in and their own sense of “home.” Alamedy muses at the end of the documentary, “I hope that when I leave this life these [Alamedy’s miniatures] will be something people will remember me by. When things get better, I hope I can do something about Iraq that brings joy for myself and for my viewers.”
You can go watch the film here, on Veena Rao’s Vimeo channel.
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You can stay tuned for the upcoming interviews and articles by subscribing to Stop Motion Geek via the “subscribe” button at the top right corner of our homepage, or by following us on Facebook @StopMotionGeek, or by visiting https://www.facebook.com/StopMotionGeek/. You can also stay up-to-date with the blog by following us on Instagram or @stop.motion.geek.blog.
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