Random Thoughts on Miniatures and Victoriana
A NEWS ITEM left me tingling with joy: Did you know that Sir Rod Stewart's hobby (other than beautiful women) is model railroads? Other celebrities rumored to be obsessed with this pastime include Tom Hanks, Elton John, Patrick Stewart, Roger Daltrey, and Neil Young, to name just a few.
FOR MANY YEARS a passionate dream of mine was to live in a rambling Victorian mansion. Well, that's not going to happen. At this point in my life, I don't feel up to maintaining an old house or pouring dollars into a money pit. But with these miniature Victorian mansions, I'm living the dream – without breaking my back or my bank account.
AT RIGHT is an interior view of a 1/12 scale dollhouse that Malcolm Forbes bought in the late 1980’s. It was a Christmas present for his granddaughters — and we were thrilled to deliver it to his estate in New Jersey.
MY HUSBAND ("Hubby Dan") says I should stop trying to reproduce somber Victorian paint colors. I agree. Just because I love Victorian architecture and design doesn't mean I'm a fan of all things Victorian. For instance, I'm glad I didn't live during that era. Besides shocking wallpapers, it was a time of extreme social intolerance with oppressive rules governing behavior, especially for females. Also, the attire was unbearably uncomfortable (there are no plans in my future for parting with my elastic-waist pants). Maybe Hubby Dan is right, and I shouldn't lose sleep over not using historically accurate paint colors.
THERE COMES A POINT during assembly when you must do nothing. It's called, "Waiting for the glue to dry." You must resist touching the house, even though every muscle in your body is straining to attach the next piece. Experience warns that ignoring this cardinal rule will result in tears and anguish.
Reliable entertainment is needed to while away the drying time. I surf the Internet for examples of fine Victorian architecture, which I've compiled into a large personal library for my color research and landscaping inspiration. Abandoned houses are collected too, even though it's distressing to view them.
It took a world war to free women from corsets. Wikipedia says that in 1917 the U.S. Government asked women to stop buying corsets to preserve metal for war production. Some 28,000 tons were saved, enough to build two battleships!
Women's fashions are eye-opening when you investigate some theories behind them. One premise is that men prefer women dressed in clothing that inhibits movement (it's hard to run from a man when you're wearing a hobble skirt and high heels). Another, obviously, is that a man's wealth is paraded via his wife's attire. The restriction of the Victorian wife's movement by bone-breaking corsets and skin-tight kid gloves "proved" her incapacity for manual labor, meaning she was rich enough to have many servants.
All I can say is thank goodness for elastic-waist pants, and I think that glue has dried by now.
Earlier, while glue was drying, I decided to check out other aspects of grand Victorian homes, such as imposing staircases and impressive fireplace mantels. Somehow, this led to viewing vintage photos of Victorian families, which then led to studying images of Victorian sartorial elegance, which naturally led to photos of corseted women. A 15-inch waist was considered the height of feminine beauty, but only two types of women could afford to flaunt such severely whittled waists: The wealthy (queens and princesses sported enviable "wasp" silhouettes) and stage actresses (on whom kings and princes often bestowed singular favors).
OKAY, I ADMIT that while surfing for pictures of fashionable Victorian attire, I was thoroughly fascinated by early post-mortem photography. You might deem the practice of photographing dead people as unacceptably morbid, but during the Victorian era it was a popular way to memorialize loved ones. In the days before vaccines and antibiotics, death was common and indiscriminate in the Victorian household; children were especially vulnerable and died from a host of illnesses that are no longer a threat today. For over a century, photographs – of both the living and the recently deceased – were rare and treasured mementos.
Initially, I thought post-mortem photography disturbing, especially when it took a while for the photographer to find his way to the home of the departed. Well, the concept is still a tad unsettling, but the more I look at some of these photographs, the more I find them poignant and even quite beautiful.
IT TAKES DISCIPLINE and practice to use quick-tack craft glue. My heart starts racing before each gluing session because it's vital to remember all of the preparatory steps: Fill cup with water and dampen rag in case of mishaps; have cotton-tipped swabs nearby; ensure toothpicks are within reach; dab some glue onto a saucer; and wear comfortable shoes for long stretches of standing in my hobby area. I think that's everything, so Full Speed Ahead!
In the excitement, the only thing I forgot was the dry run. Darn, I glued the wrong pieces together, and it's too late to pry them apart because this glue dries fast. At this point, it's best to walk away and go watch a kung fu movie with Hubby Dan. Tomorrow, modifications will be necessary.
NOT ALL FOAM is alike. Did you know that rigid foam can be open-cell or closed-cell? It's important to know the difference if you plan on having a water feature in your miniature landscape.
Closed-cell foam is difficult to carve with precision, but it doesn't need to be primed before pouring artificial water onto it. This type of foam is commonly used in shipping (molded to fit around precious gadgets such as flat-screen TVs and appliances), but it's hard to find vendors who sell it in convenient sizes for crafts.
Open-cell foam carves like butter, and it's easily found in craft stores and online, but it "gasses." Before pouring artificial water on it, you must prime the area with Flex Paste by Woodland Scenics®. Unfortunately, I learned this lesson the hard way. One of my miniature lakes started out pretty and placid, but over time large, stiff bubbles erupted. Now the lake looks like a geothermal system. One silver lining is that if I ever decide to create a miniature of Yellowstone National Park, I know some tips and tricks!
LESSONS LEARNED:
Do Not Use Force. That miniscule, crucial (now broken) piece will go flying, never to be seen again.
Any hobby that requires a jeweler's lamp and sharp blades is not for Type A personalities.
Consider the structure and decorative trim as separate projects. Otherwise, say goodbye to sanity.
Put down that blade! An emery board works just fine.
Step Away from the Paintbrush... if you're not 100% sure about the colors.
There are consequences when the first wall raised isn't square. Need I say more?
Do not attempt outdoor photography of tiny dollhouses on a windy day.
Know your rigid foam, to avoid water-feature effervescence down the road.
Never use the same color on the clapboard and trim because... meh, it's kinda boring.
Inspirational photos are great, but know when to look away (competing with full scale shortens lifespan).
Very sharp blade = optimum results with the greatest of ease.
HUBBY DAN COMES TO THE RESCUE: What's this silly contraption, you ask? It's a homemade tripod, courtesy of handy Dan. It was getting harder and harder to hunch over at just the right angle to take pictures of miniature Victorian houses, so I issued a command to hubby to make a lightweight, inexpensive device. In case you didn't know this, most of us miniatures fans are control freaks. I needed an apparatus that could be adjusted in millimeter increments, depending on whether I wanted an "aerial" or a "valley" view of a miniature house. And I need it now, Dan!
He sacrificed an old barstool, inserted a thick wooden dowel attached to a plywood platform, and added two cheap plastic clamps. Voilà! The platform height can be adjusted to my heart's content, and I can sit or stand during photography sessions.
Husbands can be a nuisance, but every now and then, they’re sheer geniuses.
BEFORE LEAVING THE NORTHEAST forever and settling in the Midwest, Hubby Dan and I took a train to Boston to visit a relative. The mid-March landscape was bleak, presenting only dull shades of gray and tan. Nevertheless, some of the scenery grabbed my attention: Pure white snow nestled in the crevices of wet, rocky hillsides; bare trees, resembling overwrought filigree sculptures, swaying in the wind; stiff, wheat-colored stalks rimming a misty lake in a lonely marsh.... Yes, even late winter has its charms.
I flopped back in my seat, discouraged, convinced I'd never be able to capture winter's solemn grandeur in miniature. One problem is the lack of realistic leafless trees in 1/144" scale. But to give up on an entire season, without even trying? That's disgraceful. If suitable material exists, I'll find it.
A contender might be ostrich feathers, but this option promises to be a time-consuming effort, one that conjures images of me in my hobby area with a stiff neck, sputtering obscenities. Okay, feathers may not be practical for constructing bare trees, but I have a feeling they'll have other, exquisite uses. I'll play with some, and let you know.
I KEPT MY PROMISE to you, which was to "play with feathers." After several hours of playing, I decided I wasn't having any fun. Trying to make 1/144 scale plants out of feathers is for the birds. It just wasn't worth the time and frustration. Frankly, I do believe it's possible – with a LOT of patience – to create amazing plants out of feathers, but another obstacle is color. Feathers tend to be dyed in flashy hues because, well, folks who prance in feathers prefer perky colors!
WELL, I GOT TO THINKING that it may be time to pursue seriously an idea Hubby Dan has for building our own microscale Victorian mansions using a 3D printer. As luck would have it, St. Louis boasts a superb assortment of classic architecture. Perhaps current homeowners would allow photography for 3D modelling? Replicas of prominent homes in our city – nay, in our country! – could be a meaningful contribution to posterity. Most mansions were built to last centuries, but you and I both know that Time marches on.... How many handsome houses have been razed to make room for Progress? Anyway, these are notions to ponder as I look into the legality of creating miniatures of private dwellings.
LATELY, THERE'S ONLY ONE thought relative to miniatures that keeps running through my head, and that is the importance of scale. It turns out that a seemingly small disparity in scale will shatter what could have been a magical illusion.
Well, I had another thought. Imagination comes in handy. Some people are astonishingly creative, while others struggle with inspiration. I'm one of those who occasionally struggle, but I have a computer, which means I can Google, which means I have instant access to pictures of the fruits of other people's imagination and labor. Googling opens the door to a vast photography collection brimming with handsome homes, of every style and hue, showcasing unique and colorful gardens. The Internet is a great place to gather ideas for your miniature outdoor scenes, without ever leaving your chair. But better still, I should stroll through a lovely neighborhood... it's a great way to burn calories while admiring the scenery.
WE'VE BEEN STUCK at home for several months because of Covid-19. This should mean that I have even more time to devote to miniature houses, but somehow, oodles of binge-worthy TV series – which we never had time to watch before – suddenly became paramount in our lives. We felt the need to catch up culturally. We finally discovered what everyone was raving about, 20 years ago, when we binge-watched The Sopranos. Decades later, I understand why my lovable boss, an Italian and enthusiastic fan of the show, kept apologizing for using four-letter words in the office. If you watched that series, you may recall wrestling with your own involuntary vocabulary outbursts.
MY MOST RECENT PROJECT, "Gym Membership Not Needed," almost did me in. Immense resolve was needed to stick with a landscape design that tested my skills and tried my patience. Let's just say, it might be a while before I attempt more designs with hills and stairs. But I think the time and frustration were worth it, and I hope you agree.
DECADES AGO, I purchased a lovely 1/12” scale grand piano from the artist Ralph Partelow. For many years the piano stayed in its box because there was nowhere safe to display it (delicate miniatures and curious cats don't mix). Later, when our home was cat-free, I brought out the piano, but quickly saw how well it attracted dust. What it really needed was to be displayed in a room box.
For inspiration, I Googled photos of beautiful rooms with grand pianos. Hubby Dan constructed a fabulous room box based on my dimensions; he designed the LED lighting too, and if truth be told, it's the lighting that creates the magic.
Now that I don't have to dust the grand piano anymore, I can get back to 1/144” miniatures.
A CHARMING WAY to display miniatures is in a fairy garden. For many years odds and ends from my 1/12” dollhouse days were packed away in a cardboard box. Other than the room box for my prized miniature piano, I had no plans to return to 1/12 scale, mostly because it takes up a lot more space than 1/144!
Another hobby, at which I was unsuccessful for a long time, was houseplants. I've always admired how luscious plants "complete" a room, but I had an unfortunate tendency to kill them. Thank goodness for the Internet because I learned which plants are able survive even the most forgetful of caretakers. My house now boasts several spider plants (one of the Top Ten plants for filtering air), an orchid that has bloomed two years in a row (a shocking surprise!), and an enormous plant (the name escapes me) that just won't stop growing.
One plant type I avoided was the succulent. For some reason I’d merrily forget to water plants that needed a steady drink, but whenever a succulent was around, I was inclined to be too attentive and regularly drowned them. But succulents are best for fairy gardens because they grow slowly, so back to the Internet I went to research.
Today I can crow about a successful succulent garden that also features leftover 1/12” pieces that now have a place to shine. Even in a northern window, the fairy garden is doing just fine… well, except for the echeveria plants. They aren't getting enough sunlight, so they're growing upward instead of staying low and resembling a rose. Still, they haven't died, but they did need something to lean against. A trellis was inserted that looks nice, if I do say so myself!
I HAVE A SMALL COLLECTION of rare NESM dollhouse kits in 1/144" scale, and decided to offer some of them for sale. I was curious if there are others out there, like me, who still enjoy quiet pastimes. It was pleasant to discover that, yes, there are people who think that working with these precious kits is rewarding.
It's probably not necessary to forewarn potential buyers that this hobby requires patience. Anyone willing to brave assembly instructions already knows that commitment equals satisfaction. Really, just remember that there's no need to rush. Glue some pieces together and then have dinner with a friend. Maybe have breakfast and lunch too, because most craft glues recommend that you wait at least 24 hours before proceeding.
After all of these years I just realized that these kits are a healthy obsession: They keep your brain sharp and compel some quiet moments, but still allow plenty of time for socializing. Now that's a hobby that gives back.
