By reconstructing her childhood home, Faustino’s miniature world reshapes personal trauma into a visual narrative, inviting viewers to look closer and confront what lies beneath the surface.

At first glance, her work feels delicate—dollhouse-like interiors bathed in soft light, miniatures arranged with precision. But on closer look, things become unsettling. A tooth rests on the edge of a bathtub. A foot balances on an egg carton. A naked body sprouts extra limbs. These small-scale scenes blur the line between childhood wonder and something more fractured, more fragile.

A Home With No Roof explores what happens when childhood is unstable, when home is stripped of its sheltering qualities. Through carefully composed images, Sara De Brito Faustino creates a world where domestic life feels exposed—and the roof never fully closes. Her work wrestles with childhood and adulthood, protection and vulnerability.

Miniatures, an art her grandmother was dedicated to, became both a refuge and a tool to process trauma. By recreating her childhood apartment at a small scale, Faustino gained control over its memories. Yet, the delicate nature of these objects—carefully placed in the scene with tweezers—highlighted their fragility, reinforcing how easily things could break, an underlying tension that defines her work.