A number of you have reached out and said a lot of really complimentary things about the work on these railings, and the model in general. That is very meaningful to me, and I really appreciate it!
I do want to take a minute, though, and talk a little bit about process, as there may be people watching along through all of this and thinking “well, I could never do anything quite like
THAT.”
My resounding reply to anyone who may be feeling that way is that you absolutely can achieve these things.
While it is true that I have developed fine motor skills over the course of my lifetime, and they are essential, I think what is often considered “talent” largely boils down to one’s powers of observation.
Here is what I mean. Whether it be 17th Century French warships, or 18th Century American longrifles, or Art Nouveau furniture - to name my three most passionate period interests - I think it is essential to constantly be on the search for previously unknown and increasingly better examples of these things, so that you can better appreciate what constitutes
Good, Better and Best (Israel Sack’s guide to period furniture) examples of any given type. This is why I love scrolling through Pinterest so much. Every so often, the algorithm sends me a gift of something I had never seen before!
More than any other skill that I posses, I believe it is my ability to really home-in on, and scrutinize the details of a thing, that has enabled me to recreate them with reasonable verisimilitude to their times. I really pore over drawings and photographs for excessively long periods of time, and often revisit them until I understand the details well enough to actually draw them.
This has always been my litmus test; when I can finally clearly visualize something in my mind’s eye well enough to draw it in a clear and detailed way - then, I absolutely know that I can make that thing.
Perfection is never my goal. All aspects of this model, or anything I have made, are slightly irregular. What I
am trying to achieve, though, is the uniform application of my powers of observation, in concert with my dexterities to the object in-hand. In other words: I am committed to maintaining a certain standard of execution. The more contemporary models you look at, the more you will come to realize that they all have in-common these slight irregularities of shape and proportion.
This is why the project has carried on for as long as it has. Soleil Royal is a magnificently complicated vessel, and I have endeavored to include as much of that detail as I reasonably can.
The QD breast rail is emblematic of this process. When you really study it, you can find all manner of a-symmetries:
However, as with painting, it is my habit to work an individual panel, for example; get it fretted pretty close to where I want it to end up; regularly flip the work from front to back to make sure I’m not cutting out of square; and, finally, to come back and re-work each panel so that they are as consistent as I can make them.
The secret to all of this is just time. I enjoy the process, so the enormous amounts of time I spend whittling away don’t really matter too much.
In closing, all of these things you see me doing were learned right here in the process of making THIS very model. My skills have improved tremendously over that span of time.
These things are achievable. You can do them too, and the process of learning to opens doors to what you are capable of within the hobby. You are suddenly no longer constrained by whatever kit manufacturers deem profitable enough for manufacture.
Thank you for indulging my reverie.
All the best,
Marc