Category Archives: Shout out

Adult Conversation

I have mentioned before my sincere admiration for Mike Cougill’s noble attempt to stimulate grown up thinking and talking about the hobby, so much so that I help out as and where I can because ideas and words are important: they frame our viewpoints; they shape out thoughts; and they change the way we interpret the world. As well as reading his blog, you can now get a free sampler from the early editions of “The Missing Conversation”.

It’s free. It requires nothing more of you than some gentle reading (rushing this kind of material is not the best way to appreciate it). At worst you will have had an enjoyable read, and decided that this kind of thing is not for you. At best, you will re-evaluate your approach to the hobby, and may even change it.

And if you like it, why not join in the conversation?

Framed!

Mike Cougill and Chris Mears have done it again!

Whilst I ponder olfactory stimulation, they have pushed ideas further forward – much further forward, as far as I am concerned.

There are certain memories which I would most likely destroy by trying to model them, for I will never be able to capture all aspects which inspire me. So, I shall enjoy my memories. I can even visit preserved railways, but they can’t take me back to 1978, as I can never be 13 again. Nothing I can do will change that – apart from memories, but they are best kept locked in a safe place. That’ll be my head, then.

If you haven’t visited Mike’s or Chris’s blogs yet, I suggest you do.

Railway modelling is not fun

My friend Mike Cougill has made a few posts recently about model railroading and “fun”. He even went so far as to pose 20 questions on the subject. As he has recently revealed, these reflect his self-questionning, and he has answered some of the questions. I had a problem with the questions, as Mike had (intentionally, I am sure) left out any sort of definition as to what fun might mean. It got me thinking – I am sure that getting people thinking was Mike’s aim. It usually is.

Fun” is an interesting word. Originally the way to have fun was to play a trick, hoax, etc on someone – so fun came at another’s expense (for example, the bawdy and riotous story “Tom Jones” treats it this way). Definitions change over time (awful used to be a major compliment!) but the element of spontaneity is still a key part of most current definitions of the word “fun”, although playing tricks on others is not the usual meaning. It is also lasts for only a relatively short-term, so activities need to be repeated, or replaced with new ones. “Retail therapy” is a good example of this: and being of short term effect, it needs repeating. There is nothing wrong with fun, but it is rather ephemeral.

Enjoyment, is something more enduring albeit possibly at a lower intensity than fun. If we don’t enjoy something, we generally don’t want to do it. After a spot of retail therapy, we might enjoy the fruits of our purchases – maybe a spot of operating with our new purchases. Maybe a bit of weathering. You get the point: something which is enjoyable.

Satisfaction, though, is something altogether more permanent and rewarding. It is the reward that enables us to overcome obstacles. It does not deny fun, nor does it preclude enjoyment. Far from it: many things that go towards satisfaction may be fun and enjoyable, but when we find that we need to acquire and hone a new skill, it is the promise of eventual success that keeps us going. It also enables us to challenge our assumptions, and deny our frustrations, indeed these are essential requirements: without obstacles, assumptions, frustrations and lack of skill to overcome, where would be the satisfaction?

I mentioned enlightened impatience last year, the point being that one can turn impatience to advantage by using it to enforce discipline. If I know a job should take, say, 10 hours of careful work, and spend 8 hours on it, then I have sold myself short. Not only that, but I will end up redoing it – properly this time – and at the of the process will have spent 18 hours on a 10 hour job. That really annoys me, hence the discipline. The result, knowing that even though some parts of the modelling job may not have been enjoyable at the time and maybe none of it was “fun”, is very, very satisfying. And I know that when doing it: it keeps me going.

Fun is superficially attractive: it shows we have a sense of humour. Really? Do we really need to patronise our audience and ourselves by bringing things down to the lowest common denominator? I think the famous phrase “Model Railroading Is Fun” is glib, and ultimately misleading. The only people who gain from it are manufacturers, magazines with a vested interest in encouraging retail therapy to keep the advertising revenue coming in (no accident that MRJ, which is not dependent on this source of income is the most “finescale” magazine out there, and this is even more true of “The Missing Conversation“), and the lazy and superficial which can’t be bothered to try harder and are looking for an excuse to hide behind. I may get some flak for that last remark, but if you read it in context there is nothing pejorative about a considered choice.

Building a model railway, be it a small one with a few highly detailed scratch-built items of equipment or a large empire with the focus on operation (for which purchasing a lot of RTR equipment is necessary and not purely “retail therapy”) is a hobby with the opportunity to provide a life-time of satisfaction, with enormous benefits for one’s mental, intellectual and physical well-being. And on top of that, I have learned so much about the outside world. Not just the physical environment, not just the technical side, but things like social and economic history, different cultural impacts.

No, one thing the hobby isn’t is fun. It’s far more than that – although we can and do have our fun moments.

Calling it “fun” sells railway modelling short.

OCE – Three Steps Closer to Perfection

Have a look at this simple, beautiful picture:

wpid-x80w-lynnvalley-4sd.jpg
Picture reproduced by kind permission of Trevor Marshall
Just a train running through some woodland, next to a river, right? Yes. And also, no.

Yes: it is a train; there is woodland; and there is a river.

No: it is not just that; it is not even a simple case of the whole being more than the sum of the parts. There is more to it than that. But not too much more, and best of all, these are basic principles, attitudes and activities which can be applied to any creative activity, but which lie at the core of “finescale with feeling”.

  1. Observation – This could also be called “attention to detail”, in that it is about identifying the detail points in the prototype: the slope of the embankment (“fill”, if you are North American); the texture of the grass and leaves; the size and shape of the trees; the correct details on the train. If you get this stage wrong, then the result cannot be “closer to the prototype” and I would argue that it is not finescale. To get this right, spend time observing.
  2. Composition – How best to arrange things. Not as simple as it might seem. The prototype often disappoints in this respect: notable painter Constable altered the arrangement of the real world to improve his famous picture, “The Haywain”. Trevor has written some interesting musings on his composition of the Lynn Valley, and of course has put them into practice, too. There is a large element of “love of subject” here, as the aim is to make subtle adjustments to the real scene so that the model displays it all in the best light. This is feeling. To get this right, spend time immersed in information: books, photos, videos, site visits, and then play around with plans, card mock-ups, etc.
  3. Execution – The quality of workmanship. A high degree of skill is required (the hallmark of finescale) but also the care of that workmanship – back to feeling – makes this a believable representation of the real world, even if it isn’t an exact copy of a real place. This is true finescale with feeling. To develop and hone a skill, spend time getting a feel for tools and materials.

None of this comes automatically, except maybe to the very gifted few. Not all of us can reach the high standards displayed by Trevor, but as the major requirement for each of Observation, Composition and Execution is simply time, we can all try at our own pace, and each of these can be practised whenever and wherever desire and opportunity coincide.

At the end of the process, what do we see? Just a train running through some woodland, next to a river...