What is Bernadette doing in Venice? Okay, she’s not really in Venice. She’s at Gulliver’s Gate, on West 44th Street.

Is Gulliver’s Gate for tourists? Well, it is in Times Square, and thus probably falls into the same category as, say, Ripley’s Believe it or Not! or Madame Tussaud’s (which, by the way, Bernadette has no intention of visiting. Ever.). But Bernadette has a fascination with miniature worlds so she kind of loves Gulliver’s Gate.

She wouldn’t try to tell you that it’s the next best thing to actually going to Paris, because that would be a lie. Still, for her, there’s something exciting about watching night fall and the lights go on all across Europe. And Asia. And over there, too, in Rio.

It has been suggested to her that a love of miniatures has to do with a desire to be in control. She’s not sure this is why she likes miniatures. Nor does she think that smallness=controllability necessarily.

Have you ever tried to screw in the tiny screws that hold your glasses together? Smallness can be as daunting and difficult as largeness.  

At this scale, the designers are just trying to distill the essence of places. Does this mean they resort to cliche? Well, sure! That is, while they seem to be taking us to the distant and exotic, in fact they are presenting the familiar and the recognizable. That’s why we love cliches.

Certainly, a small world is easier to see. And Bernadette does enjoy feeling big for a change.

Then, Bernadette sees the coolest thing ever. It turns out she can be 3D scanned, miniaturized, printed, and placed somewhere in Gulliver’s Gate. She, or her avatar, anyway, can be part of this world. The world presented here may be a cliche, but if she’s in it, that small part will be unique. She likes that idea.

Keith, the man who operates the scanner and who is also responsible for placing the figures in the exhibit once they’re made, tells her her options for where she can be placed. If she wants to be in New York, which naturally she does, she has four choices: Liberty Island, Grand Central Station, the High Line, or the 9/11 Memorial. He recommends against Liberty Island, because it’s located near the edge of the exhibit and apparently the miniature people there are frequently swiped. The 9/11 Memorial makes her too sad, and Grand Central Station is just too busy. So she opts for the High Line.

 Bernadette can’t believe visitors actually steal the miniature people. One of the attendants confirms this. “Sometimes you turn around for one second, and then when you turn back all that’s left there are some little feet still stuck to the exhibit,” she tells Bernadette. “And sometimes we find tiny bodies on the floor.” So there’s violence in this mini world! Bernadette doesn’t understand why anyone would want a half-inch, footless, plastic model of a perfect stranger, but whatevs.    

If you visit Gulliver’s Gate, look for her on the High Line (her mini should be there in three weeks or so).     Bernadette is made from an old pair of pants. Her swing top used to be a sweater sleeve, and her pants are made from old Halloween costume. Her slippers are made from a scrap of silk given to me by Elizabeth V. And all her bling comes from a treasure box from Ellen.    

Undoubtedly, philosophers are in the right when they tell us that nothing is great or little otherwise than by comparison.—Jonathan Swift, from Gulliver’s Travels