105 SMITH JOURNALHow did you two start making dioramas
together? Lori Nix: Kathleen and I met when
we were both working for an Ohio company
that made store interiors and fixtures. I’d
studied photography at university and tried
my hand at photojournalism after I graduated,
but I was such a homebody. I thought, “Rather
than go out in search of photographs to take,
why don’t I create scenes at home in my
apartment?” Kathleen helped me out with
some painting and the work grew from there.
What is it about dystopian dioramas that
appeals so much to you? Nix: I grew up in
western Kansas, which is prone to tornadoes,
insect infestations and other natural disasters,
so I’ve always had an interesting relationship
with the destructive forces of Mother Nature.
It feels like we’re now nearing a precipice with
climate change, so these apocalyptic images
are my attempts to explore what the world
would be like without us.
The apocalypse is a scary subject, but your
photos are oddly beautiful. Nix: I don’t
fear the apocalypse. As this one German writer
pointed out, if humans disappear, there’ll be
no one around to miss us. And I think nature
would be happy: maybe some endangered
animals would return. Gerber: This is where
we dier. I freak out whenever I think about
that too much. So while there is maybe a
dark overall message, we make a point of
adding humorous little details into the
dioramas. The artwork needs to get lighter
when you’re living in apocalyptic times.
How long does a piece take to complete?
Nix: Anywhere from three months to 15.
‘Anatomy Classroom’ took almost a year;
Kathleen spent Thanksgiving making little
skulls on her mother’s kitchen table. A lot
of time is spent waiting for glue or paint to
dry, so we’ll have multiple scenes going at
once. We usually have a big model going
and a small one. ‘Anatomy Classroom’ was
about 60cm by 60cm, whereas ‘Subway’
was about two-and-a-half metres long.
Do you split the tasks evenly between
yourselves? Gerber: I build the models
and put the finishing touches on things,
painting and rusting them to look aged.
Nix: My job is sourcing the supplies and
taking the final photographs. We almost
always know the angle we’re going to shoot
the scene from, so only build it from that
one angle. Arranging the light so it looks
natural takes a long time. It took a good
week to get it just right for The City.Is there much demand for dioramas?
Gerber: You don’t get into miniature
photography for the money or celebrity.
That said, there is commercial work out
there. As Nix + Gerber we’ve built and
photographed dioramas for book covers
and magazines, and we’ve built miniature
sets and props for commercials. It’s a
fairly niche business, but we’re doing
more of that work right now.What are the challenges of working in
miniature? Gerber: Problem-solving is a
big part of the job. For a commercial piece,
I once had to figure out how to put diving
goggles on a Tic Tac. Once I’ve worked
out how I’m going to achieve some crazy
assignment, the work is really enjoyable:
I sit down, put on my visor, and get into
it. There’s something very satisfying about
being in charge of your own little world.
Nix: Animals have been a problem. One
time we used dried carrot tops as greenery
for a diorama. Later, our cat snuck in, ate
them, then threw up. Luckily there was
already so much texture in the scene that
you couldn’t see where the vomit was.Any new projects on the horizon?
Nix: Our annual Christmas cards.
We make these every year and send them
to friends and family. They’re a bit of a
departure from our usual work. More
kid-friendly. Less apocalyptic. •nixgerberstudio.com