Moving Panoramas - Reflections — Crafting Communities

Thaumatropes: Reflections

Reflection by Lucie von Schilling

On a lazy Saturday afternoon, I decided to take a break from schoolwork and try Kiarra’s thaumatrope tutorial! I am pleased with the way my thaumatropes turned out. I gathered my materials and worked on my bed next to Moe, my dog. I was amazed that the materials were accessible household items.

Lucie’s dog, Moe, lying on a patterned blanket

A pair of scissors, a piece of paper, two pens, a pile of pastel-coloured yarn, a bottle of Mod Podge, a jar lid, a stack of magazines, and a box of tarot cards

I started with a ‘test’ thaumatrope. For this, I cut out images from old National Geographics. I chose a cute (but ferocious) image of a seal and a photo of the cosmos. I envisioned that when the thaumatrope spun, the planet would show up in the seal’s open mouth. It totally worked! The seal transforms into a giant space creature capable of devouring planets. It’s amazing how two spinning images can tell a story. It is always magical to finish a craft and see it in action for the first time.

A jar lid being traced over a picture of a seal with an open mouth

Three cut out circles—one with a blue planet in a purple sky, one plain (the card base), and one with a seal

For my next thaumatrope, I selected two cards from an old tarot deck. I think this craft works well with the lore around tarot. It reminds me of being at a tarot reading and watching cards being turned over. It captures some of that mesmerizing energy. Watching my tarot thaumatrope spin reminds me of how the present, the past, and the future are always in motion, colourfully turning together. I love how the figure dressed in a sheet that emerges from a cup appears and disappears as the thaumatrope turns.

A jar lid being traced over a tarot card featuring two figures holding cups

A jar lid placed over a tarot card featuring five cups

However, I did get a little ahead of myself on this one! I forgot to flip one of the images upside-down so that when it spins, it shows right-side-up. It still works: in tarot, sometimes cards show upside-down. Still, don’t forget this rule while crafting your thaumatrope!

Two cut out circles featuring the two figures and cups respectively

I get so much joy from finishing a craft, from accomplishing something, however small. It is what makes crafting so rewarding. I loved this tutorial. It is easy to follow and provided me with additional information about Victorian practice. See what I mean? The past and the present spin together while a thaumatrope spins. I think Kiarra did a lovely job. Be sure to check out her tutorial. I think it would be the perfect craft for a quick burst of joy in one’s life. Ideal for Saturday afternoons cozied up next to loved ones.

Both of Lucie’s completed thaumatropes (seal and tarot)

Reflection by Jane Nederlof

I feel like I have hardly a thing to say about thaumatropes. As one of the most particularly interesting Victorian crafts, I imagined they would be more involved, but my attempt turned out to be quite enjoyable. I was able to recycle materials from past crafting pursuits, mixing an image of a castle from a Puss in Boots picture book with one of a sweeping rainbow from a story about catching leprechauns. Now that I am writing about it, I am realizing the poeticism in using pictures from children’s books to craft what is meant to be a children’s craft.

A pair of scissors, a pile of colourful ribbon, a jar lid, a pen, a pencil, a paintbrush, and *Looking for Leprechauns* by Sheila Keenan

A circle traced onto cardboard and two cut out circles with a castle and rainbow design, respectively

A jar lid being traced over an illustration of a castle

Mod Podge being applied to one side of the cardboard circle

On that note, I suspect that a much more authentic experience of thaumatrope crafting would come from making some with a child. I am now regretting not taking the time to do this with my niece and nephew. My imagination loves the idea of exploring the possibilities of diverse materials scrounged from around the house, and the lovely little lessons it could teach my young friends about recycling, creativity, and adaptability. Perhaps my next thaumatrope will have to accompany some Auntie bonding time.

Jane’s completed thaumatrope, featuring a castle

The other side of Jane’s completed thaumatrope, featuring a rainbow

Reflection by Kalea Raposo

Since a successful thaumatrope requires some planning and careful arrangement to make the images line up, this craft appeared daunting at first; however, making thaumatropes ended up being a straightforward, enjoyable, and oddly nostalgic task. I say ‘oddly’ because I never made thaumatropes as a child—but, sitting there with my scissors, gluestick, and bits of paper in the hopes of making something that moves, I was reminded of childhood attempts to construct kaleidoscopes and other ambitious experiments with cardboard scraps. That being said, I appreciate that thaumatropes can be made from scavenged household materials. Their openness to recycling and personalization makes the thaumatrope an especially Victorian craft. I used castoffs from previous projects, a bit of twine and ribbon, and a couple of doodles to create my thaumatropes but the possibilities are truly endless.

A jar lid, a pen, a glue stick, a pair of scissors, a spool of string, a cutout of a butterfly, and a cutout of a woman in Victorian dress

A pen, a glue stick, and two circles with images of a woman and half of a butterfly, respectively

For my test thaumatrope, I used images from the Victorian periodical press. I cut out a woman and half of a butterfly with the goal of creating a fairy-like image. The rhythm of the thaumatrope suits the fluttering motion of wings, and I was pleasantly surprised that my images came together so well!

Three cut out circles—one with a woman, one with half of a butterfly, and one plain (cardboard base)]

String threaded through the sides of Kiarra’s first thaumatrope

For my second thaumatrope, I took Kiarra’s suggestion of a frog on a lily pad. I found this design a bit more difficult than the first just because I had to adjust the lily pad a few times to line up with the frog, but the final product ended up looking quite cute. I can see why creating Thaumatropes was considered a literary opportunity during the 19th century: even as you select component parts that tell their own story, you have to think about how they will all be represented by one image. The thaumatrope creator really does become both poet and illustrator of their own work.