Category Archives: Artistic Musings

Admiring K’s Spinner (Blade Runner 2049)

October 6, 2017 marked the North American release of Blade Runner 2049, the long anticipated sequel to the dystopian sci-fi noir classic from 1982. The original Blade Runner was a triumph of production design, blessed with wonderful hardware like Deckard’s gun, the Voigt-Kampff machine, and of course, the spinner.

Conceptual artist Syd Mead designed the original police spinner, which became a visual icon of the 1982 film. This elegant craft was equally at home on city streets and in the air. With no wings or visible means of propulsion, it could nevertheless take off and land vertically and fly like a conventional aircraft, its police flashers casting red and blue beams through the rain drenched night.

Like its predecessor, the spinner used by Ryan Gosling’s character, K, in Blade Runner 2049 is an integral part of the film. One of the most popular publicity stills from the movie features a shot of K exiting the spinner as the driver’s side door scissors shut. What’s striking about K’s spinner is its bold, angular design, which is completely different from the original police spinner.

Let’s talk a bit about automotive design. All car designs, including the earth-bound vehicles of today and the airborne versions of tomorrow, can be roughly grouped into two camps: curves and angles. Curvaceous cars, like Ferraris, have fluid, feminine lines and soft edges, while angular cars, like Jeeps and Land Rovers, have straight, masculine lines and strong angles. If you want to draw a Ferrari, you need a set of French curves, whereas for a Jeep, a ruler will do.

Most cars today fall in the curvy category because soft edges generally yield a lower drag coefficient. This means lower fuel consumption, so the approach is rooted in practicality. Most people also seem to prefer curves over angles, and this preference is so strong that they use words like “boxy” to describe angular designs. This is incorrect of course since boxes have right angles, which are rarely found in cars.

Cars are machines, so why should they appear soft, flowing and organic? We make no such demands of toasters and microwave ovens. So thought Giorgetto Giugaro, a brilliant designer who rose to fame in the 1970s by showing the world that angular cars could be beautiful.

Lotus Esprit designed by Giorgetto Giugaro

Giugaro gave us origami inspired masterpieces like the Lotus Esprit and Delorean (the latter coincidentally became a flying car in the film Back To The Future). Angular designs also made their way into the more affordable end of the market, the Fiat X1/9, Toyota MR2 and Volkswagen Scirocco being examples. Today, high performance car manufacturers tend to go either all curvy (like Porsche) or use a blend of curves and angles (like Lamborghini).

Back to K’s spinner. This fine piece of hardware, bearing the nameplate of French automaker Peugeot, is an unabashedly angular design. It incorporates a healthy dose of DNA from the Lotus Esprit and is decidedly different from the other spinners in Blade Runner 2049. The Wallace Corporation spinners, like the one which attacks K and Deckard at the casino penthouse, are devoid of any elegance or grace. Their bulbous, oversized greenhouses give them an ungainly look. This is entirely appropriate. After all, the bad guys always have ugly cars, and the hero has the coolest one.

So how did the design of K’s spinner—which we can all agree is the best Peugeot ever—come about? Production designer Dennis Gassner, in response to director Denis Villeneuve’s request for a “brutal” aesthetic, created a spinner for 2049’s lead character which Gassner calls “robust, angular, and chiseled.” K’s spinner is built on strong triangular motifs which create a bold, masculine look. Its three-wheeled chassis gives it a hint of eccentricity (as you would expect from a Peugeot). And its worn-out, beat-up exterior sets it apart from the well-maintained company cars it goes up against in the film’s climax. This is not a pampered vehicle, but a utilitarian workhorse for a detective on a budget. It fits K much the same way that the 1968 Mustang in Bullitt fit Steve McQueen’s character. These guys don’t sentimentalize their cars. They treat them as disposable tools to get the job done—nothing more. And dispose of them they do. Both the Peugeot and Mustang end up getting ditched.

As with many fictional craft, how the spinner actually flies isn’t addressed in the film. According to an article in Wired magazine, K’s spinner is powered by “a futuristic form of fusion.” This is actually plausible for such a compact vehicle, since fusion propulsion relies on solid lithium propellant, which takes up much less volume than liquid rocket propellant. NASA’s website has a good article on it. “It’s a new technology,” Gassner is quoted as saying, “since in the world of 2049 they don’t really have a lot of fossil fuels or sun to power a car.”

The question on everyone’s mind is, when are we going to see a model kit of K’s spinner? So far, all we have is a couple of diecast toys from Cinemachines (one 3” and one 6”) which are clearly intended for kids. Given that 2049 is an obviously adult film, the marketing logic behind these diecast toys is questionable.

Fujimi did a superb (if not timely) rendition of the spinner from the 1982 film, which was a delight to build. Too bad it didn’t come a few decades sooner. I wired mine with LED lighting and put it in a diorama which you can see here. Hopefully Fujimi has reached out to 2049’s producers for licensing rights and will offer K’s spinner at some point as well. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

If you like to build dioramas and want to learn more about how to optimize the visual impact of your work, you might like my new book, Diorama Design. It’s available in both ebook and print formats at Amazon.

-Ivar

 

 

 

Hudson’s Bay Christmas window displays – Part Five

Our final installment on The Bay’s festive window displays at their flagship store in Toronto, Canada brings us to an Alice In Wonderland inspired winter scene. The dominant figure is a large rabbit, joined by much smaller figures of children dressed in white. One of the children is perched like a jockey on the rabbit’s back, reins in hand. They are near the entrance to a magical tree which features a snow-covered staircase bathed in warm yellow light, beckoning visitors to enter.

This display features the same transparent spheres containing vignettes of various characters that can be seen in most of The Bay’s displays. In fact, all but one of the five displays (the first one we looked at) has these spheres. In this scene, the spheres are perched on branches like Christmas tree decorations.

Although there is less motion in this display than some of the others, the art department has compensated for this with an animated backdrop of falling snow. This lends some movement to the scene and blends nicely with the snow covered ground.

This display is even more obtuse than the last one we looked at, inviting speculation as to what exactly it’s all about. The staircase leading into the tree is especially effective in arousing our curiosity. We wonder what’s inside. Leaving things unexplained is a great way to heighten interest in a diorama; try it in your next project.

If you like to build dioramas and want to learn more about how to optimize the visual impact of your work, you might like my new book, Diorama Design. It’s available in both ebook and print formats at Amazon.

-Ivar

Hudson’s Bay Christmas window displays – Part Four

This week’s installment on The Bay’s festive window displays focuses on a circus ringmaster and his ensemble of performers. This display is notable for its palette of saturated reds. Red is an advancing colour, which means it appears to “pop” or advance towards us. Red is associated with excitement, romance, passion, and last but not least, Christmas. Gold is used as a supporting colour, embellishing the dominant red tones and giving the eye a bit of diversion.

The ringmaster is in the middle of his speech, announcing the next performance to eager spectators who are looking forward to another lavish spectacle. His right hand holds a bullhorn, and both hands are thrust upwards to grab the crowd’s attention.

Next to the ringmaster is a rotating platform with three Victorian era carriages pulled by a steam locomotive. Each carriage contains a diorama of circus performers within. On the central pedestal, several small transparent globes circle a larger globe, each containing additional vignettes of circus performers. So what we have is several small dioramas within a large one, making this a very unique display.

If you like to build dioramas and want to learn more about how to optimize the visual impact of your work, you might like my new book, Diorama Design. It’s available in both ebook and print formats at Amazon.

-Ivar

Hudson’s Bay Christmas window displays – Part Three

In our third installment on The Bay’s festive window displays at its flagship store in Toronto, Canada, we have a thought provoking vignette of a white-bearded wizard gazing into his crystal ball. The ball is alive with constantly changing imagery of famous cities around the world. Positioned front and centre, this large transparent sphere is the focal point of the scene, symmetrically framed by a circular metal lattice which encompasses the entire display. Several smaller spheres containing various objects are also featured. There doesn’t seem to be any common theme to these objects. One sphere houses a steam locomotive, and another, a koala bear. They move up and down on cables, adding visual interest.

Of all the displays on show at Hudson’s Bay this Christmas, this one is the most ambiguous. It raises many questions and provides few answers. Based on the design of the lattice and the pedestal on which the globe sits, the scene apperas to be set sometime in the distant past, perhaps during the early days of the Industrial Revolution. But other than that, we know very little. Who is the mysterious wizard and what is he up to? The white beard suggests Santa Claus (minus his familiar red and white Christmas outfit), but he seems much too thin. And Santa is jovial, while this guy looks serious. If we overlook these inconsistencies, the other elements in the scene support the Santa Claus theory: the crystal ball could be a device for seeing who was naughty and who was nice this year. And the locomotive and koala bear could be toys destined for the children who were nice.

As with many works of art, there are several possible interpretations to this window display. Let your imagination fill in the answers.

If you like to build dioramas and want to learn more about how to optimize the visual impact of your work, you might like my new book, Diorama Design. It’s available in both ebook and print formats at Amazon.

Ivar

Hudson’s Bay Christmas window displays – Part Two

Last week we began taking a look at the festive window displays adorning the flagship Hudson’s Bay Company store in Toronto, Canada. Part Two of this series brings us to a display which animal lovers will enjoy: two polar bears raising their arms in a coordinated salute to the Christmas season.

The massive scale of the bears and the large arcs made by their moving arms makes them the focal point of the display. The bears are joined by a supporting cast of other animals indigenous to Canada, which are rendered in a much smaller scale. These include a killer whale, a penguin, walrus, and two narwhals. All the animals perform their own little dance in their transparent globes, all the while rotating on a large turntable.

The entire display is ensconsed in a frosty white frame which gives the impression of looking inside a cave carved out of solid ice. The crowning touch is a video backdrop which shows scenes of the Canadian arctic. Many dioramas have static backdrops (photos or paintings) but video trumps both. Moving pictures are always more eye catching than stills.

If you like to build dioramas and want to learn more about how to optimize the visual impact of your work, you might like my new book, Diorama Design. It’s available in both ebook and print formats at Amazon.

-Ivar

Hudson’s Bay Christmas window displays – Part One

Canadian retailer Hudson’s Bay Company is one of the oldest department store chains in the world. Its origins date back to the early days of Canada, when explorers traded furs to earn their livelihood. While lesser department store names like Eatons and Sears have been torn apart by the whirlwind of change in the retail business, The Bay is still going strong.

The Hudson’s Bay flagship store on Queen St. in Toronto exemplifies the golden age of retail, when there was no Internet and department stores were the go-to destination for a family’s clothing and housewares needs. Like all proper department stores, this one features several large window displays at street level.

Window displays are the department store’s visual greeting to the prospective buyer. A well-done display not only shows the products being sold, but says something about the store and the type of shopping experience it offers. And naturally, this is all done with the bottom line in mind: a catchy display can turn a passing pedestrian into an impulse buyer.

On the cusp of the 2017 Holiday Season, Hudson’s Bay has reignited the glory of traditional retail with a stellar collection of window displays adorning its Toronto flagship store. As diorama artists, we know that window displays are simply large dioramas. The combination of professional talent and generous budgets behind these displays can yield spectacular results, and we can learn a great deal by studying them.

The first display we’re going to look at features three vintage style streetcars circling a stylized Toronto cityscape, complete with a Christmas tree, City Hall and skating rink. To give you an idea of the scale, the streetcars appear to be about O Gauge. They aren’t running on track, but glide elegantly along a loop circuit with no visible means of locomotion.

I’ve spoken before about how light and motion can be used to increase the impact of a diorama. This one checks both boxes. In terms of motion, we have not only running streetcars, but a rotating Christmas tree and animated skaters. Lighting is also used to good effect: the tree, skating rink and building windows are all illuminated. The near total absence of colour gives the display a distinctive look. A uniformly white palette creates a magical, wintery atmosphere and blends all the elements together into a visually cohesive whole.

If you like to build dioramas and want to learn more about how to optimize the visual impact of your work, you might like my new book, Diorama Design. It’s available in both ebook and print formats at Amazon.

-Ivar

 

Second Anniversary

The release of my new book, Diorama Design, marks the second anniversary of Creative Dioramas. It’s now available on Amazon in both ebook and print formats.

Diorama Design is a practical guide to design theory for modellers who like to build dioramas. I explain key design concepts and show you how to apply them, using actual dioramas as case studies. Diorama Design will teach you how to think like an artist and increase the visual impact of your dioramas.

If you’re a regular visitor to this blog, thanks for your continued interest. Feel free to browse the catalogue of previous posts in addition to whatever’s on the home page, and use the search box if you’re after a specific topic. Here’s looking towards Year Three!

-Ivar

Diecast replicas, instant gratification, and the vanishing art of model kit building

Today I had an interesting conversation with the manager of a local store specializing in aviation related merchandise. This store just underwent a major revamp. The most striking change was a huge increase in the amount of floor space devoted to ready made diecast aircraft replicas. This section was not only expanded, but also moved to the front of the store. In contrast, the plastic kit section was shrunk down in size and relegated to the back of the store.

When I asked about this change, the manager confirmed that diecast replicas were outselling kits by a huge margin. He went on and on about the quality and fine detail on these replicas and how much they’ve improved over the years. I pointed out another trend, which is that people are losing the patience to build kits. He agreed with this but didn’t seem concerned.

In our world of instant gratification, it should come as no surprise that fewer and fewer people are building model kits. Instant gratification has become a core Western value, and you can see it in the short-term planning that corporations use, the tactical (rather than strategic) mindset of politicians who can’t see past the ends of their own noses, and the effects of technology.

Communication technology is probably the biggest cuplrit in training ordinary people to expect instant gratification. While everyone blindly praises the uninterrupted 24/7 contact which digital telephony has enabled, no-one seems to have noticed the ugly side effects.

For the first time in human history, verbal conversations are being replaced by snippets of text. These text messages are to face-to-face conversations what finger paintings are to a Rembrandt. They’re devoid of poetry and depth, not to mention basic punctuation. Instead of witty banter, we have emoticons. No wonder children are so easily addicted to smart phones. These devices are a grammar-free playground of reassuring smiley faces, ideally suited to short attention spans. As our minds are remapped to favour brief, careless messaging over communication with content and substance, we are reverting to our preschool selves.

The other danger of this new technology is the way it undermines our mental focus. A mobile phone conversation is invariably conducted while running for the bus, ordering at a restaurant, or doing any number of other activities. So only a fraction of the user’s attention is focused on the conversation. This is akin to an Olympic sprinter running a race while trying to tie a shoelace at the same time.

Harried urban drones like to flatter themselves as multitaskers. Although the term “multitask” sounds full of promise, the hard reality is that the human brain is akin to a one-CPU computer. We pretend to multitask by switching frantically from task to task every few seconds, only raising our blood pressure and shortchanging the task at hand. We ignore the fact that the human brain is simply incapable of concentrating on more than one thing at a time.

So back to diecast replicas. For those lacking the motor skills or hand-eye coordination to build a model kit, there’s a place for these products. But most of the time, they’re a cop-out. The buyer is taking a shortcut to the end result, not realizing it comes at a cost. Gone is the joy of artistic creation, with all its ups and downs, and that sublime moment at the end when you can proudly display something you made with your own hands. For those who thought about building a kit and succumbed to the instant gratification of the diecast option, it’s a choice they’ll eventually regret.

-Ivar

 

The Jupiter 2: An icon of spacecraft design

More than any other vehicle I was exposed to as a boy, the Jupiter 2 from Lost in Space captured my imagination and held me in thrall. I searched in vain for a model kit of this venerable spacecraft for many years. Every time our family travelled to a new city, I’d always ask at the local hobby shop if they had a model of the Jupiter 2. And the answer was always no.

Issue #29 of Sci-Fi & Fantasy Models magazine sheds light on the mystery of the kit that never was: “Aurora actually considered releasing a Jupiter 2 kit during the 1960s but decided not to do so because they felt the simple saucer lacked commercial appeal.” In retrospect, this was possibly the dumbest business decision ever made in the history of the plastic model kit industry.

Sometime in the early 1990s, I happened to see an ad in a scale modelling magazine that brought to mind the phrase “better late than never.” It was a kit of the Jupiter 2 from a company I had never heard of: Lunar Models. I placed my order immediately and waited three long months for the product to be delivered. What eventually arrived was a plain white cardboard box with two wobbly vacuform pieces of the top and bottom of the hull, poorly cast resin landing gear, and a transparent circular piece for the engine. Given the exorbitant cost of the kit and the ridiculous wait time, I made a note to myself never to order anything from that company again.

I was able to find an LED chaser kit to animate the engine lights, carefully placing 32 LEDs in a circle and wiring everything together. My Jupiter 2 is unique in that the LEDs are red and orange, which is how I imagined the lights to appear when watching Lost in Space on a black and white television as a kid. A plain lightbulb was used to illuminate the top dome and the interior. I cut out a hatch for the battery pack in the bottom hull and positioned a push button switch to be flush with the hull when in the “on” position. The viewport and interior were scratchbuilt since none were supplied. Although the project took about ten times longer to finish than I expected it would, the results were worth it. I finally had a replica of the Jupiter 2.

The Jupiter 2 design owed a debt to the C-57D featured in the classic sci-fi film Forbidden Planet. (The name of this ship makes you wonder what happened to the C-57A, B and C . . . and for that matter, what happened to the Jupiter 1?) UFO mania was rife in the 1960s, and both the C-57D and Jupiter 2 capitalized on this. What helped make these terrestrial UFOs unique was the spinning lights on the bottom of the hull which somehow provided propulsion for interstellar travel. Those mesmerizing lights hypnotized a whole generation of Lost in Space fans, and the Jupiter 2 still retains its status as a classic of sci-fi design today.

A circular spacecraft has a certain elegance which no other design can match, because the circle is the most perfect geometric shape. It has no sides or corners. A saucer shaped spacecraft can change direction seamlessly, unlike a conventional ship, which must point its nose in the direction it wants to fly. If UFOs do in fact exist, then it would make sense that a race advanced enough to create such a craft would choose a circular design.

The Jupiter 2 was a much better design than the C-57D. It had a viewport, which was not only practical for astronauts who like to see where they’re going, but lent visual interest by making the interior of the ship visible. And the contours of the hull looked just right, whereas the C-57D came across like a child’s drawing.

I also liked the Jupiter 2’s landing gear, a tripod arrangement which was much more stable than the C-57D’s central column. If you made the mistake of landing the C-57D on a surface less than perfectly level, the whole ship would be in danger of toppling over. Although the C-57D had three boarding ramps, these were not meant to support the ship, since they were extended after the ship landed.

Designing fictional craft that are grounded in real world physics is vital if you want to broaden your audience to include not just laymen, but technically minded people like scientists and engineers. This is one reason for the widespread and enduring appeal of Star Trek.

But most movie and television producers are not big on realism, or even common sense. A frequent gaffe is not checking that the miniature of a fictional spacecraft matches the full size set, and that the interior of the ship is spatially compatible with the exterior. Looking at the Jupiter 2 from the outside, it’s obvious that a ship of its dimensions and layout would have room for just one level, since the lower part of the hull would house the propulsion system.

It should also be obvious that there would be no room for niceties like a chariot and space pod. But this didn’t stop Irwin Allen and his producers from including them in the Jupiter 2. Allen, a graduate of journalism school, had no technical savvy. Nor did he have the business sense to hire someone who did. This resulted in glaring scientific inaccuracies that plagued most of his productions.

The biggest mystery of the Jupiter 2 is how that array of spinning lights on the bottom of its hull can propel it across interstellar distances. A quick search of the Internet shows that there are almost as many explanations for the propulsion system as there are LEDs on my Jupiter 2 model, and none of them are plausible.

Oh well, you can’t have everything. Quibbles aside, the Jupiter 2 remains a classic which has stood the test of time. Although this elegant craft didn’t emerge in kit form until many years after Lost in Space was cancelled, several companies eventually got around to it. The current Moebius kit is the best of the lot, and is still being sold today. Aurora, you really blew it.

-Ivar

Historical dioramas from Spain – Part Four

In this final installment on dioramas in Spain, we journey to the Castillo de Almodovar, a picturesque medieval castle perched atop a hill near the town of Cordoba, Spain. The castle is based on a roughly rectangular floor plan of 5,624 square metres. Access is via a long, winding road to the castle entrance at the top of the hill. Once inside, a long ramp takes you to the Courtyard of Arms. From here you can see a total of nine towers, the highest of which is 33 metres tall. Architecturally, the castle is a mix of Neo-Mudejar (Moorish Revival), Gothic and Romanesque styles.

I was pleasantly surprised to find a diorama of the castle within its walls, set up in the centre of a small, dungeon-like room. Projectors in the ceiling illuminate the diorama with lighting effects, re-enacting a siege of the castle, and speakers provide sound.

Displaying a single diorama in the centre of a dark room, with nothing else to distract, gives it a certain theatricality. As you enter, the diorama commands your full attention.

The diorama consists of the castle itself, the hilltop base, and nothing else. There are no figures of attacking soldiers, or armaments being brought to bear. All these extra elements are provided by the projectors in the ceiling, along with flame and explosion effects. As with the diorama from Quebec City, Canada I discussed, there’s an integration of physical and virtual elements which work together to create a complete experience for the visitor.

The Castillo de Almodovar has a long history. Originally a Berber fortress built in 760, the castle came under Christian rule with Fernando III in 1240. Beginning in 1360, it served as the royal residence of Pedro I. It underwent numerous architectural changes with each new owner. The castle was eventually handed over to the knightly Order of Calatrava and then to the Order of Santiago. The Earl of Torralva undertook an extensive restoration of the castle from 1903 to 1936. Twelve centuries after its initial construction, the castle not only still stands but is remarkably well preserved.

-Ivar