God and Nature Fall 2023
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Small Things
By Mike Clifford
“Who dares despise the day of small things?”
Zechariah 4:10a
Regular readers with memories as large as an elephant may remember that several years ago I made a confession in this column that the Eagle Nebula just doesn’t do it for me. I find microscopic images of dust much more beautiful than megascopic images of dust. On walks with my beautiful wife, I am more likely to direct my gaze downwards amongst the leaves in the hedgerows than to lift my eyes to the hills. This occasionally results in mild exasperation when I interrupt a conversation with an excited cry of: “Weasel!” “Goldfinch!” or “Dragonfly!” and point to empty space, which moments earlier was the home for one of these elusive creatures.
However, a recent family outing was wonderfully harmonious, and I think I may have tilted the balance towards appreciating the beauty and wonder of small rather than big things. We went to Wollaton Park in Nottingham, England, a 500-hectare deer park and woodland. Wollaton Hall, the late-16th century Elizabethan mansion overlooking the park, is perhaps best known as the setting for Bruce Wayne’s ancestral home in the 2011 Batman movie The Dark Knight Rises, but our visit was to take in an exhibition entitled “Small Things Matter” by sculptor Dr. Willard Wigan MBE.
Willard was born in the Midlands in 1957 to Jamaican immigrants who settled in the UK as part of the Windrush generation that came to fill labour shortages and rebuild Britain after the war. Life was far from easy. Growing up, Willard found school an unwelcoming environment. Due to his dyslexia and autism, he was a target for bullies and was treated appallingly by some teachers, who thought he was stupid.
Willard was fascinated by the natural world and marveled at insects. One day, when he should have been at school, Willard was hiding in a shed in his garden. Whilst playing together, Willard’s dog started digging in the soil and disturbed an ants’ nest. Willard was upset that the ants’ home had been destroyed, so he set about building tiny houses for the ants to live in and even made a seesaw for the ants to play with.
“Who dares despise the day of small things?”
Zechariah 4:10a
Regular readers with memories as large as an elephant may remember that several years ago I made a confession in this column that the Eagle Nebula just doesn’t do it for me. I find microscopic images of dust much more beautiful than megascopic images of dust. On walks with my beautiful wife, I am more likely to direct my gaze downwards amongst the leaves in the hedgerows than to lift my eyes to the hills. This occasionally results in mild exasperation when I interrupt a conversation with an excited cry of: “Weasel!” “Goldfinch!” or “Dragonfly!” and point to empty space, which moments earlier was the home for one of these elusive creatures.
However, a recent family outing was wonderfully harmonious, and I think I may have tilted the balance towards appreciating the beauty and wonder of small rather than big things. We went to Wollaton Park in Nottingham, England, a 500-hectare deer park and woodland. Wollaton Hall, the late-16th century Elizabethan mansion overlooking the park, is perhaps best known as the setting for Bruce Wayne’s ancestral home in the 2011 Batman movie The Dark Knight Rises, but our visit was to take in an exhibition entitled “Small Things Matter” by sculptor Dr. Willard Wigan MBE.
Willard was born in the Midlands in 1957 to Jamaican immigrants who settled in the UK as part of the Windrush generation that came to fill labour shortages and rebuild Britain after the war. Life was far from easy. Growing up, Willard found school an unwelcoming environment. Due to his dyslexia and autism, he was a target for bullies and was treated appallingly by some teachers, who thought he was stupid.
Willard was fascinated by the natural world and marveled at insects. One day, when he should have been at school, Willard was hiding in a shed in his garden. Whilst playing together, Willard’s dog started digging in the soil and disturbed an ants’ nest. Willard was upset that the ants’ home had been destroyed, so he set about building tiny houses for the ants to live in and even made a seesaw for the ants to play with.
Later that day, Willard’s mother returned home to find him playing and asked him why he wasn’t at school. Willard explained that he had run away from school. It was then that his mother saw the tiny houses that he had made. She was amazed by the detail, and from then on, she encouraged Willard to make smaller and smaller sculptures and challenged him to make a camel that would fit through the eye of a needle.
After leaving school, Willard worked in a factory but spent his spare time working on his tiny sculptures. Eventually, his amazing art was brought to public attention. Today, much of his work is carried out under a microscope using cocktail sticks, shards of diamonds, and porcelain. He uses his own eyelashes for a paintbrush and holds the world record for the smallest sculpture—a human embryo the size of a human blood cell.
After leaving school, Willard worked in a factory but spent his spare time working on his tiny sculptures. Eventually, his amazing art was brought to public attention. Today, much of his work is carried out under a microscope using cocktail sticks, shards of diamonds, and porcelain. He uses his own eyelashes for a paintbrush and holds the world record for the smallest sculpture—a human embryo the size of a human blood cell.
The exhibition featured many of Willard’s sculptures, several of which were framed in the eyes of regular needles. These included a blue whale, Albert Einstein, The Last Supper, and, of course, Robin Hood. I was particularly intrigued by a sculpture of a church, formed painstakingly from a grain of sand taken from the churchyard. You can see Willard’s work for yourself here and here.
Willard’s art reflects his life-story. Few people expect to find beauty in the lens of a microscope, and perhaps too often we write off people who don’t fit into our traditional perspective of greatness. Let us not despise the beauty of small things.
Mike Clifford is an Associate Professor in the Faculty of Engineering at the University of Nottingham. His research interests are in combustion, biomass briquetting, cookstove design, and other appropriate technologies. He has published over 80 refereed conference and journal publications and has contributed chapters to books on composites processing and on appropriate and sustainable technologies.