At first I was reluctant - because that's usually how it starts - when I read about the
I'm a Giant Blog Challenge, the one where "architects, photographers, magazine editors and interior designers" to quote
ohdeedoh make dollhouses. Slowly the idea grew on me - because that's usually how it continues - and I had ideas, apparitions even: The ballet school in
Suspiria* - shaped like a tear drop or a cloud to emphasize the movie's surreality - completely made of paper, rough and torn - the focus being the sleep over scene in the dance studio.
Back at
Ohdeedoh I flicker through progress shots of contestants dollhouses and grow weary. To quote Ohdeedoh anew: "...these designers have loftier visions than gluing an image of a wardrobe from the Sears catalogue onto a cardboard box." Indeed. These are professional dollhouses for grown ups by professional grown ups. It makes me think of
Monica's and Phoebe's dollhouses in
Friends. My surreal paper vision of Suspiria wouldn't cut it in this miniature world - which of course isn't a reason to not do it. (Time restraint
is.)
I bet you could spend a lifetime creating a miniature Suspiria dance school. It's an enormous task unless you drew it on wads of cotton and threw them up in the air.
If you haven't watched Suspiria here be spoilers in abundance as I give you the tour. Let's see what we'd have to shrink:
{ Hallway and stairs }
{ Locker room }
{ The corridor that leads to the dance studios }
{ The yellow room }
{ The red room, that becomes the dormitory }
{ The swimming pool }
{ The corridor outside the bedrooms, that also leads to the attic }
{ Susy's bedroom }
{ Sara's room, identical to Susy's }
{ The sometimes worm filled attic }
{ The small attic room }
{ The barbwire covered room behind the small attic room }
{ The office }
{ The corridor behind the office }
{ The witch's bedroom }
I never stray far from Suspiria, do I? Go here and here to see previous posts.