Throughout my photography career, I’ve found myself drawn to what brings people together, and I particularly love a convention or conference—anything that inspires people who are passionate about a certain topic to occupy the same space. This has taken me everywhere from the floor of the Republican National Convention in Ohio, to a cannabis trade show in Times Square. In 2020, I relocated to Carmel, IN, a quiet suburb of Indianapolis. While driving through the downtown area, I would frequently pass the headquarters of NAME, the National Association of Miniature Enthusiasts. The organization connects people from around the country who build miniature dioramas and scenes. I knew I had to find out more.
This past Labor Day weekend, NAME held their 50th anniversary expo at a Marriott in Indianapolis. The event included workshops, kit assembly classes, and a lot of buying and selling of wares. This year’s theme was “Winter Wonderland,” and finished miniatures devoted to it were featured in a specific room. I’ve never seen such beautiful, intricate detail, and engineering. Even at 1/144″ scale, the model rooms looked so cozy and put together, I found myself wishing I could shrink down and take a nap in one of the mini beds.
Among the attendees I chatted with, many had been enjoying their niche hobby for a long time. But the early days of the pandemic found people bored at home looking for time-consuming tasks to fill the hours, and, according to attendees, online sales among younger people really exploded during that time. In the past three years, hobbyists have taken to digital gatherings on Facebook and Zoom, spaces where they could host collaborative building sessions and just hang out. When the world around us shrunk to just the four walls of our homes or apartments, miniature enthusiasts found a way to go even deeper by exploring and appreciating the tiniest details that make up our spaces.
The mood at the expo was friendly and light, with members stopping me to ask about my camera, what brought me to the convention, or just to gab. Everyone was so happy to finally be together in person, and the whole meet-up felt like a reunion for a school I never went to. I walked down the aisles in the sales room, featuring tables manned by one or two people, some who ran their own companies, selling finished kits, kits you can build, or tons of accessories and things to put in your kits. I took in the assortment of parts and sets that were available for purchase—from miniature light bulbs to baby heads.
