The beauty of model kit box art

From my earliest model building days, I’ve always been drawn to the beautiful box art on model kits. A quick search turned up the above photo of the box art from a kit I built as a kid. This illustration captures all the excitement of modern naval technology. The Enterprise is a commanding presence, carving a frothy white wake in an ocean of gorgeous blue. An A4 Skyhawk streaks overhead, reminding us that this is no ordinary ship, but a mobile airfield. So powerful is the illustration, I instantly recognized it out of hundreds of photos in the search results, even though the model is long gone.

Not all box art is created equal, and there’s obviously no relationship between the quality of the illustration and the quality of the kit itself. Some excellent kits come in poorly illustrated boxes, and vice-versa. Japanese kit manufacturers usually get it right on both counts, with well engineered kits in finely illustrated boxes. I find Tamiya’s box art to be exceptionally good.

Not all types of kits get the same artistic treatment. For a long time, science fiction kits were the poor cousins of the box art world. AMT and MPC, which brought us subjects from Star Trek, Star Wars, Space: 1999 and other iconic sci-fi shows and films, always had cheap looking box art. MPC’s Eagle was a mess on all counts: one of the most inaccurately mastered kits ever produced, in a really ugly box!

Things have improved for sci-fi modelers, now that we have premium science fiction kits from companies like Fine Molds and Fujimi. The Star Wars line from Fine Molds features top notch box art. I especially like the box art on the Y-Wing kit. And Fujimi’s Spinner from Blade Runner also comes in a nicely illustrated box.

Some box art is so good, you could cut it out and frame it if not for the type that covers the illustration. And some of the top artists in the field, like Roy Cross, Jack Leynnwood, Kihachiro Ueda and Shigeo Koike, have had their box art republished in prints and books. Koike’s website at http://shigeokoike.com/en features some of the masterful work he’s done for Hasegawa and Fuji Heavy Industries. If you’ve never heard of any of these artists, it’s because they generally aren’t permitted to sign their names to their box art illustrations. The kit producer will argue that they want to promote the kit, not the artist, although I see no reason why they couldn’t do both.

If we think of the model building experience as a journey, then the journey begins when walking into a hobby store and seeing a new kit, or spotting it online. An attractive package will naturally generate more sales, and marketing departments know full well the importance of capturing the prospective buyer’s imagination the first time he sets eyes on a new kit. It can make the difference between winning and losing the sale.

The worst thing a kit manufacturer can do is have no box art at all. Anyone who’s ever bought a resin garage kit is familiar with the curiously anticlimactic experience of receiving their kit in the mail, unwrapping it, and being confronted with a plain cardboard box devoid of any graphics at all. Or a splotchy black and white photocopy stapled to the box, which is worse.

Of course it would be asking a lot to expect a garage kit producer to be a gifted professional artist as well as a good mold maker. Garage outfits are usually one man operations, and few people are that multi-talented.

What’s harder to excuse is mass producers of kits who make bad decisions when it comes to box art. Remember when Airfix offered kits in plastic bags? The only visible artwork was a tiny piece of folded cardboard stapled to the top of the bag! You had to really want the kit badly to stomach such cheap packaging. Even worse, you’d be left wondering if the unprotected parts would still fit together when you got the kit home. Without the protection of a cardboard box, parts could come off sprues and get damaged or lost. But then quality has never been a priority for Airfix.

In the age of online shopping, one reason people still enjoy walking into a hobby store is because it’s like entering an art gallery full of illustrations of your favourite planes/cars/boats/spaceships. The poster-size box art on large kits beats squinting at tiny website photos hands down. Shrink-wrapped kits are even better, adding a glossy coating which makes colours pop (and reassures you that no pieces are missing).

With few exceptions, kit producers prefer to use paintings of the “real thing” rather than photographs of the completed model for their box art. Paintings are better at generating interest for a potential buyer because they exploit his interest in the actual subject, which is the reason he’s buying the kit. And a painter can place the subject in a dynamic scene, whereas a photo of the completed kit will always look static and dull in comparison.

Compare this photographic box art from Testors to the illustrated art from Revell:

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It’s the same subject in the same scale, but the illustrated package is far more appealing. And being human, we assume that what looks good on the outside will transfer to the inside. So most people will prefer the Revell kit, other things being equal.

If you have a closet full of old kit boxes and you’re about to move, you may be contemplating throwing them in the recycling. But instead, consider cutting out the front illustrations and keeping them. You can discard the rest of the box, and still have all that beautiful artwork when you arrive at your new place.

-Ivar

3D printing is going mainstream

The sign that convinced me that 3D printing has gone mainstream was a newly opened retail store which I spotted downtown the other day. This store is the first I’ve seen offering 3D prints of . . . people! So instead of going to a professional photographer to have your photo taken, you can now walk into this store and have a figurine created of yourself. It starts with a full body scan and ends with a 3D replica of you, in the scale of your choice.

When I saw a 3D printer being used to create a mask in a Mission: Impossible movie a few years ago, I assumed it was pure science fiction. But just as Star Trek’s communicators made the leap from science fiction to fact, so too have 3D printers.

My first question after walking into the store was what material they use to print the figurines. I was told that most of the figurines on display were made of gypsum powder, but plastic is also available. My second question was if they could print objects other than people. The answer was yes, but not at the store. For that, I’d have to contact head office.

Of course, there are already online 3D printing services like Shapeways which offer custom printing. But there are lots of esoteric services available online which cater to extremely small markets. The fact that a retail store now offers this service indicates that the market is big enough to justify a bricks and mortar presence. This means that demand is increasing.

You can also buy your own 3D printer. At this point in time they’re extremely expensive, and would only be justified for someone constantly making prints. Prices won’t come down that quickly because the market for these machines is limited. They’re specialty items, unlike LED TV sets or DVD players, which dropped dramatically in price because of high consumer demand.

The mainstreaming of 3D printing is a significant development for diorama artists. No longer are we faced with scratch building items which aren’t available in kit form, or overpaying for resin garage kits. More choice is always good, and diorama artists will benefit.

-Ivar

Keeping costs down when building your diorama

When e-commerce went mainstream and turned the world of retail and wholesale on its head, it was the consumer who emerged as the winner. Liberated from the monopoly which local bricks and mortar stores used to enjoy, the consumer can go online and hunt for the lowest prices from sellers around the world.

In a previous post, I talked about the decline of the bricks and mortar hobby shop in the online age. Although it would be easy to feel sorry for the hobby shop owner who has been turfed out by online competition, it’s important to realize that he may have just become greedy and priced himself out of business.

Hobby retailers (bricks and mortar as well as online) have a habit of overpricing products which are available elsewhere at far lower prices. They rely on their image as a specialist retailer to justify big margins.

A good example is miniature lighting. I frequently use LED lighting strips in my dioramas. They outlast bulbs by a wide margin, generate very little heat, and are easy to work with. LED strips are available via hobby retailers as well as eBay (mainly from sellers in China and Hong Kong). Guess which is cheaper? The price difference is so big that I wonder how hobby retailers are able to sell any LED strips at all.

Some hobbyists may not have the patience to comparison shop, but for those willing to spend a few minutes surfing the web, the return on your time investment can be considerable. And it can add up over time.

Here are some tips which can be useful in finding the lowest price for the product you’re looking for:

· See if you can determine where the product is manufactured
· Determine what types of retailers carry the product (for example, paints are carried by art stores, hobby stores, hardware stores, home improvement stores, and last but not least, paint stores); also check if the manufacturer sells direct
· Compare prices at each type of retailer in the country of manufacture with retailers in your country (remember to include shipping costs when comparing)
· Check prices at portals like eBay and Amazon

It helps to keep in mind also that the more middlemen you can cut out, the better your price will be. Some products are resold multiple times before reaching the consumer, and the price goes up every step of the way.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that if you don’t mind waiting a bit longer for your product to arrive, you can save a lot of money. Basic shipping rates from China to North America are astonishingly cheap if you don’t mind the four-week wait. I’ve also found shipping rates from Britain to be very reasonable. In contrast, buying from a U.S. source can entail horrendously high shipping charges, particularly on eBay and Amazon. And look out for eBay sellers who price a product at a discount and overcharge for shipping.

You would think that large online hobby retailers would have lower prices because they get quantity discounts when they purchase stock. However, I’ve found that this isn’t always the case. Remember that retailers are under no obligation to pass along savings to their customers. The only consistent advantage I’ve found to buying from a larger retailer is better product selection. If you’re buying several items at once and can bundle them into one delivery, you’ll usually pay less for shipping.

There isn’t one universal rule for getting the cheapest price. It depends on the product you’re buying. So do your research and happy shopping!

-Ivar

How many people build dioramas?

When assessing the popularity of an art form, we can consider the following:
· How many well-known artists are there
· How big a market is there for buyers and sellers
· How strong of an online presence is there (websites, discussion boards, etc.)
· How often is it in the news

It’s pretty obvious that based on these criteria, the popularity of dioramas is very limited. Most people who build dioramas usually start out as scale modellers, a niche group itself. This means that diorama artists are a niche of a niche!

If we look at a more commonly practised art form, like photography, most people with a passing interest in art would be able to name at least one famous photographer. Ditto for sculpture or painting. But what about dioramas? I’ve been building dioramas for many years, and the only diorama artist I can name off the bat is Sheperd Paine. And I know of him because of his book on dioramas, not his actual works.

But what about special effects technicians who work in film and television, you say? If you’re a science fiction aficionado, chances are you’ve heard of names like Douglas Trumbull, John Dykstra, Brian Johnson and Derek Meddings. Well, they’re all famous artists, but they create miniature sets, not dioramas. A miniature set is usually much larger than a diorama, because it’s optimized for filming. And because it’s specifically designed to be filmed, it only has to look good from the angle of the camera. A diorama, on the other hand, is open to scrutiny from many angles. Another differentiator is that miniature film sets can be digitally enhanced through computer generated effects in post-production, whereas dioramas don’t have this luxury.

Brian Johnson, who’s known for his superb work on Space: 1999, Alien, The Empire Strikes Back, and many other high profile projects, once remarked that he knew special effects supervisors who created works of art on their sets, but none of it showed up in the final shot. He added candidly, “with all that smoke swirling about the place, you can get away with murder!” His comment shows that unlike some other effects artists, he fully understood the difference between miniature sets and dioramas.

You might expect that artists who create dioramas for museums would be well known (and this would be a reasonable expectation). In a recent post, I discussed Museo de la Miniatura in Guayaquil, Ecuador. When I toured the museum, I asked several people for the name of the artist who created the dioramas. No-one was able to answer my question. Nor could I find the artist mentioned anywhere in the museum or on its website, despite the fact that every exhibit in the museum was created by this artist!

So it seems that museums don’t feel that the artists who created dioramas for them should receive credit or publicity for their work. And to make matters worse, diorama artists, unlike painters, don’t usually sign their name on their finished works. Diorama artists are the unsung (not to mention uncredited and unpublicized) artists of the art world.

The lack of well-known diorama artists is perhaps the greatest impediment to the popularity of the art, because artists benefit from other artists who inspire them. Photographers can aspire to the greatness achieved by Ansel Adams or Henri Cartier-Bresson. Painters, to Monet or Van Gogh. And sculptors, to Rodin or Michelangelo. But diorama artists have no such names to aspire to.

Perhaps because there are no well-known diorama artists, dioramas are rarely featured in art galleries. I’ve seen a few, but they tend to be few and far between.

Returning to the original question of how many people build dioramas, it’s clear that the numbers are extremely small. There are no famous diorama artists. Dioramas have a tiny web presence, are rarely bought, sold, or exhibited in galleries, and are hardly ever newsworthy.

Is this a problem? Not if you’re a sincere artist. By this I mean someone who does what they do because they love doing it, not because they want external validation. Popularity and recognition are nice, but they are chance by-products of the creative process and nothing more. The act of creating a work of art, with all its frustrations, joys, disappointments and successes, is what engages us first and foremost. We create art because we’re compelled to. So if you love building dioramas, that in itself is enough.

-Ivar

Learning to see as an artist

There’s a great scene in a movie of a famous painter asking his student what colour the clouds are. The student, responding instinctively, says “white.” Seeing the painter’s look of disappointment, the student takes a closer look at the clouds, and then observes several colours.

What makes this scene great is the way it encapsulates a common failing of would-be artists: their lack of discipline in using their senses to perceive the environment. We become so accustomed to relying on instinct and memory to interpret the world around us, that we forget to use our eyes. It seems rational enough to say that clouds are white, but that answer is a knee-jerk response based memories of what clouds look like (perhaps from a Wikipedia photograph), rather than in-the-moment observation.

Many of our daily actions are governed by a kind of perceptual shorthand in which we rely on past knowledge and experience to move through life. We discount the present moment and tune out the environment. This is usually a practical tactic for urban dwellers suffering from sensory overload, but it works against our development as artists.

If we create art by interpreting the world around us, then the first piece in that process is the interpretation part. It is also the most critical part. Get that wrong, and everything that follows will also be wrong.

So how do we turn off our pre-programmed responses, stop being robots, and re-engage our senses? To paraphrase one of the tenets of Buddhism, “live in the moment.” This means paying attention to what you see, hear, taste, touch and smell, right here and right now. Just to qualify this, I’m not suggesting you change religions. But opening yourself to your environment and opening up your sensory capacity to its fullest potential can make you a better artist.

I’ve found that it helps to focus on one sense at a time. There are some simple steps you can take to develop this focus. For example, when eating dinner, don’t listen to music, read, or watch videos at the same time. Concentrate 100% on the taste of the food. You’ll find you enjoy your meal much more, and feel more satisfied at the end. Multitasking is overrated. It’s also at odds with our biology. Our brains are like one-CPU computers, meaning we can only concentrate effectively on one task at a time.

To wrap up, I’ll leave you with this Buddhist parable, which comes right to the point (from dailybuddhist.com):

A man traveling across a field encountered a tiger. He fled, the tiger after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him. Two mice, one white and one black, little by little started to gnaw away the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other. How sweet it tasted!

-Ivar

Thunderbird 2 and the “kits versus toys” conundrum

There is usually a clear dividing line between plastic kit manufacturers (like Tamiya) and toy producers (like Hasbro). As far as I know, Tamiya has never produced a toy and Hasbro has never produced a scale model kit.

But some companies make both kits and toys. Bandai, Aoshima and Takara Tomy fall into this category. The quality of kits produced by these firms tends to be less consistent than you’d find with a dedicated kit manufacturer. This isn’t surprising given that their primary target market is children.

It goes without saying that five-year olds have a vastly different set of criteria than adults do when it comes to hobbies. Some five-year olds like to put their prized possessions in the sandbox. Others like to chew on them. I’ve yet to see any adult modellers taking part in either of these activities (if you know an adult fitting this description, please take them to a psychiatrist immediately).

Takara Tomy recently introduced both a large toy of Thunderbird 2 from the new Thunderbirds Are Go TV series, as well as a “Real Kit” of the same subject in 1:144 scale. The former product is aimed squarely at five-year olds. It features opening sections, moving parts, a detachable pod with Thunderbird 4, and built-in sounds. This seems to be a well thought out product which kids should like.

The 1:144 Real Kit, however, has some shortcomings:
1. The kit is hard to distinguish from the toy. In fact, eBay listings for the two products are so similar that it’s hard to tell one from the other.
2. It is a snap together kit with a choice of stick-on markings or waterslide decals. These features indicate that the product is aimed at novice modellers.
3. Like the toy, the kit features a removable cockpit roof. This creates a huge gap at the bottom of the roof and ruins the scale look of the kit. Authenticity was obviously not a priority in the design of the kit.

Considering these compromises, it’s clear that Takara Tomy rejected the idea of a serious scale replica. Instead, the company attempted to create a product that would appeal to both children and adults. This was a mistake for two reasons.

First, the Real Kit is not sufficiently different from the toy in price or appearance. This may result in the two products cannibalizing each other’s sales.

Second, the Real Kit was designed under the assumption that most Thunderbirds Are Go viewers are kids. This fails to take adult viewers into account, who grew up with the original Thunderbirds series and are now enjoying the new reboot as a trip down memory lane. Many of these returning viewers are experienced modellers willing to pay top dollar for authentic kits of their favourite subjects. They have fond memories of the original Thunderbirds series and still admire all its wonderful hardware.

Takara Tomy would have been much wiser to follow the example of FineMolds, whose Star Wars kits set a new standard in quality for sci-fi subjects. Their enormously successful 1:72 Millennium Falcon which I discussed here is a case in point. The FineMolds Falcon was a rarity: a mass produced, high quality sci-fi kit aimed squarely at experienced modellers, with no compromises made to attract younger modellers.

In addition to compromising the quality of their kits, companies like Takara Tomy, Bandai and Aoshima also do a disservice to modellers by associating kits with toys. This tarnishes the image of scale modelling. Buying a kit from one of these companies is a bit like buying a stereo from a guy with a van parked in an alley.

But at the end of the day, having an average quality kit of the new Thunderbird 2 is better than nothing. Given the relatively low demand for sci-fi kits, we have to take what we can get. So if you decide to pick up Takara Tomy’s new Thunderbird 2, be prepared to do some extra work to get it up to standard. The basic shape of the kit looks accurate enough, and most of its shortcomings can be overcome with a little care. Just make sure to throw out the stickers. Or even better, mail them back to Takara Tomy with a note stating that scale modellers don’t use stickers!

-Ivar

Visual sleight-of-hand with forced perspective at Museo de la Miniatura

Before the age of computer generated special effects, movie makers used several tricks to make the most of miniature photography. One of these tricks is called forced perspective. This technique exaggerates the apparent depth of a scene by placing large scale objects near the camera and small scale objects farther back. For example, placing a 1:10 scale miniature tree close to the camera and a 1:20 scale tree further back increases the apparent distance between the two trees.

Forced perspective compensates for the limited depth of field of cameras (the range of objects in a scene which are in focus). Without it, a miniature set depicting a large area, such as a battlefield, would be very deep, and it would be difficult to keep everything in focus.

On a recent trip to Guayaquil, Ecuador, I stumbled across Museo de la Miniatura. This museum houses a series of dioramas illustrating the history of Guayaquil. The dioramas are a few metres wide and over a metre high, and have lighting that changes as a pre-recorded narrative is played over speakers. What impresses me most about these dioramas is their masterful use of forced perspective. Although not designed for filming, these expertly crafted dioramas employ forced perspective to inject more visual depth into a confined space.

One of the dioramas is pictured above. Although you might not realize it from casual observation, the train tracks are not parallel, and the models near the front are larger than those in the back. This creates a scene of much greater apparent depth. Due to the need to create miniatures in multiple scales, forced perspective is more time consuming for the artist than creating a standard diorama with everything rendered in one scale. But the end result is brilliant.

I used forced perspective back in my film student days, creating a set of three landing pads for a spacecraft touchdown scene. By making each landing pad in a different scale, the scene had much more apparent depth, and it worked better. This project was done entirely on 16mm film and all special effects had to be done in-camera. With forced perspective, I was able to keep everything in focus.

The near total reliance of today’s filmmakers on computer generated effects has a downside, in that much of the ingenuity which used to lend magic to filmmaking is now all but obsolete. Techniques like forced perspective aren’t needed when you have software that takes care of everything.

It’s nice to know that at Museo de la Miniatura, the magic of forced perspective is alive and well.

-Ivar

Spinner Over Police HQ (1:24)

I wanted to show the Spinner in flight—it’s much more graceful with the wheels tucked out of sight. I also wanted to capture the night-time ambience which was integral to Blade Runner.

To meet these requirements, I used the box diorama format described in my previous post. The box started out as a wooden picture frame. I extended the sides with basswood panels to provide more depth. The Spinner is supported from behind by a U-shaped arm mounted to the base of the box. The Duratrans backdrop is back-lit with an LED strip.

-Ivar

The box diorama: supercharging the diorama

The typical diorama uses a flat board as the structural base. This configuration has a number of limitations. It doesn’t usually include a background, which means the artist is constrained to working on only one surface when recreating a scene, lessening the overall verisimilitude. Another drawback is that this configuration requires premium real estate when displayed—either a book shelf or an empty stretch of wall where it can be attached with brackets, usually at waist level. This can be an issue when space is limited.

Enter the box diorama, sometimes called a shadow box. Leveraging multiple surfaces, it offers the artist complete control over background elements as well as lighting. There is also more control over what the viewer sees, since the box can only be viewed from the front. This makes it easy to add hidden supports to display aircraft in flight. And since the box diorama is usually displayed at eye level, it takes up no more space than a painting.

When I decided to create a showcase for my Spinner model from the film Blade Runner, it was clear that the box diorama was the way to go. In the film, the Spinner was shown only at night, which showed off its dazzling lights to maximum effect, and made its medium blue paint scheme appear dark blue. I wanted to capture both these elements.

My next post will feature the completed Spinner Over Police HQ box diorama. Stay tuned!

-Ivar

SHADO Yards (1:43)

This conceptual diorama is based on the 1970s TV show UFO, showing my design for SHADO Yards, an earth-based assembly facility where the Moonbase Interceptors were built.

The Interceptors are original Bandai injection molded kits (scratchbuilt interior and missile) and the figures are white metal. The cargo truck is a kitbash of an aircraft carrier tractor. Everything else is scratch-built. The finished Interceptor is lifted onto the launch pad with a gantry crane and moves on rails to the launch position. The launch pad is powered by a low rpm electric motor on O gauge track, using gears and sprockets from a robotics supplier.

-Ivar