Model Railroad Myths and Memes: Whose Train Set is it?

  

I recently came across this cartoon, fed to me by Facebook.  I asked an AI art generator to redraw this comic strip - apologies to Bill O'Malley - with a different ending that showed the father and son playing together.  I prefer a "both-and" scenario to an "either-or" in this case.
 

There's much more that can be said about this, much more.  But I'll let the images speak for themselves and leave the interpretation up to the beholder.  The question still stands: Whose train set is it?

 

Tired Tropes or Tried and True?

Do you ever think about those tired hobby tropes?  You know the ones, "We've got to get kids interested in the hobby! (or it will wither and die)" or "A layout is never finished" (though if that were true custom layout builders might never get paid).  Recently I was perusing the 1941 Varney catalog, as one does*, and I came across this passage:

    "Did you ever stop to ask yourself why the small boy never had a chance to play with his electric trains on Christmas day?  I say it was because it took his "old man" just about that long to put it together, make it run, and get tired of it.  It is too easy."
    "At some risk of frightening a newcomer, I would like to say that, a MODEL RAILROAD is no pushover.  If it were, the children would have it, and it would fail to hold the adult interest."

SP drew it, never made it, but Varney did!

The bug will bite a kid from time to time and due to their disposition or an early start with some tools and paint they may turn into model builders sooner than later.  But I suspect they're the rare case, not the average person who may have a mild interest early on that lays dormant until much later when time and funds become available to pursue the hobby in earnest.  I'd say Varney was making a statement in direct contrast to those "toy train" manufacturers that so often depicted kids on the floor, grinning from ear to ear as their grinding metal beasts clanked around the Christmas tree and the family looked on, beaming with pride.

The passage in the catalog continues:

    "A model railroad has yet to be built and finished.  That is one of the nicest things about it.  It's never done.  Virtually every model railroader who starts a layout, tears it up and starts over again almost before he has the bugs out of his first loop of track.  There are thousands of model railroaders who have temporary 'layouts,' or systems which are in effect only test tracks for the equipment which is being modeled.  The real layout floats nebulously in his mind like a mirage in the desert, to be reached some day, somehow."

The first commemorative car offered by Varney in 1948.

Keep in mind these quotes are from a Varney catalog, a company that sells trains, not structures, scenery, track or anything else for your layout.**  They also extol the virtues of how well their equipment runs and complies with NMRA standards so of course it was in their interest to encourage modelers to build something on which to run these trains.  But I think the quote above is for those folks whose layout doesn't look like more than a test track on a table top.  Perhaps it is also aimed at the person who resists buying more equipment because they don't have room for it.  Keeping the dream of "some day, somehow" alive creates a convenient justification in the mind of the buyer.

I suppose I resemble that remark.  Currently I have a small model railroad by most standards.  But that doesn't stop me from buying more trains.  Some day, somehow I'll have that big space for long trains.***  But I'm also that weird kid that got bit early and never let college, girls, career, etc. get in the way of spending some time at a workbench with a model train or structure kit.  Maybe you are too.  These tropes exist for a reason and sometimes they're even true.

The other commemorative offering, Varney, 1948.

*This post was prompted by a recent purchase.  Varney is not a sponsor, (LOL), but I do appreciate their contributions to the hobby and think their early card-side equipment is really cool.

**Varney does recommend you build a layout, and they even offer the barest of suggestions on how to do it.  I did find it particularly interesting that while no track or transformer brands were mentioned, they did exclusively recommend Ideal structures!

***Back in the real world, I do have an actual plan to build a nice storage system that not only protects my investment in rolling stock but makes them easily available to put on and take off the railroad.  I have already shown in this post here that it is possible and even fun to simulate a larger railroad's operations on a small pike.

Rediscovering the Benefits of Model Railroading

Good old YouTube suggestions.  Sometimes they nail it.  Substitute "model making" for sketching.

Hopper's Narrative Influence

Careful viewers will note that the three images in the preceding blog post were all works by Edward Hopper.  Hopper (1882-1967) was an American artist known for his realistic scenes of ordinary life.  According to Wikipedia he "created subdued drama out of commonplace subjects layered with a poetic meaning, inviting narrative interpretations".  Sounds good to me, especially that last bit about inviting narrative interpretations.  I believe strongly that art and story are two sides of a coin.  The best art, like great model railroads, tells a story or sometimes raises questions in the viewers mind that lead to a "narrative interpretation".  

A quick search of the Model Railroader archive will reveal a few brief mentions of Edward Hopper.  Most notable is an article by John Armstrong in which he recreates, in model form, the scene depicted in Hopper's painting "The Nighthawks".  To honor Armstrong a painting was made by railroad artist Ted Rose which included the grand old master himself standing trackside next to a Canandaigua Southern steam engine with the Nighthawks scene in the background.  Think about it; a fictional scene from a famous painting recreated on a freelanced model railroad, finally depicted full circle in a painting.  Narrative indeed.

But perhaps lesser known - because it is entirely my speculation - is this scene, shown on Earl Smallshaw's Middletown and Mystic Mines railroad:

Now, I can't prove it, primarily because Smallshaw has gone on to that great roundhouse in the sky, but I suspect what we're looking at is a nod to this painting:

House by the Railroad, Edward Hopper, 1925

Hopper's painting, indeed many of his railroad paintings, were made in the first quarter of the twentieth century, the time frame of Smallshaw's M&MM.  Note the use of negative space in both images to highlight the subject and draw its contours into sharp relief.  On the Middletown & Mystic Mines this house was the home of Fenton Farnsworth, founder of the M&MM.  As the story goes, he would often step out onto his porch to watch the 8:25 doodlebug go by.  According to the photo's caption in the May 1982 Model Railroader, "Just before his retirement he had this quaint Victorian home built on a knoll and as close to the right-of-way as possible so he could keep an eye on his creation."  Narrative.  Art inspires a story.  

Smallshaw's model, by the way, was a Classic Miniatures Leadville House.  Not an exact match to the house in Hopper's painting but it captures the spirit.  Neither is the supposed real-life inspiration for the painting a match, attributed to a home in New York which also only vaguely looks like the house in Hopper's painting.  But here's yet a third house with a connection (so I'm led to believe) to Hopper's "House by the Railroad":

I selected this one from the many views available on the internet because of the lighting which so closely matches Hopper's work.  Hitchcock reportedly liked the look of Hopper's painting and was inspired to create the Bates Mansion for his film "Psycho".  Supposedly.  But such supposition is part of the fun of "narrative interpretation" isn't it?  Sometimes not knowing is more interesting.

As I've built structures for dioramas over the last two years (see nmrbo22 and nmrbo23 tags for more) I've enjoyed creating narratives around each.  How old are these buildings?  Who might live there?  How can the structure itself tell the story?  What clues can I give the viewer to help discover that narrative?  In the case of Smallshaw's and Hitchcock's Victorian structures we're provided a narrative and given a larger context in which that story is placed.  

But Hopper's masterpiece has no such context beyond the railroad tracks in the foreground.  The structure itself offers no clues beyond an approximate age based on architectural details and the date of Hopper's painting, 1925.   Art critics can and do speculate about the narrative, but they have no more corner on that market than you or I when it comes to imagination.  Perhaps the best we can do is to be inspired enough to recreate our own House by the Railroad and maybe even invite our viewers to cast their own narrative interpretations.

Negative Space and Parade Routes

Railroad Train by Edward Hopper, 1908

When I was reading the July 2023 edition of Model Railroad Hobbyist magazine I came across this statement in Joe Fugate's editorial:

 "Negative space is basically the so-called 'boring stuff' that has little to do with the railroad.  It's the stuff that typically gets thrown out when we selectively compress a railroad route into a layout track plan.  Rather than add something else 'railroady' to the layout, a 'negative space scene' takes space away from the railroady part per se hence the term 'negative' space."

No.  That's not what it means at all.

From wikipedia: "In art and design, negative space is the empty space around and between the subject(s) of an image.^[1] Negative space may be most evident when the space around a subject, not the subject itself, forms an interesting or artistically relevant shape, and such space occasionally is used to artistic effect as the "real" subject of an image" 

Furthermore, "Elements of an image that distract from the intended subject, or in the case of photography, objects in the same focal plane, are not considered negative space. Negative space may be used to depict a subject in a chosen medium by showing everything around the subject, but not the subject itself. Use of negative space will produce a silhouette of the subject. Most often, negative space is used as a neutral or contrasting background to draw attention to the main subject, which then is referred to as the positive space."

The "boring stuff" in between our "railroady scenes" is NOT negative space.

To be fair, I get what he's trying to say.  In the editorial he continues to elaborate on what he thinks negative space means for modelers and while he's totally misusing the term, he's still pointing to a concept I endorse.  Our model railroads have to strike a balance between the "railroady" and "non-railroady" scenes we see in the real world.  Most model railroads are heavy on the stations, yards, industries, and signature scenic effects like tunnels and bridges because these are often considered the most interesting elements.  

But in the real world there are, for example, suburbs, non-railroad-served industries, and miles and miles of nature alongside the tracks.  The problem is that the "empty" scenes in between aren't really empty.  While it would be tempting to call a plain, simple scene between more interesting scenes "negative space", a better term for these scenes would be, simply put, ordinary scenes.  The world is full of them and, as Joe rightly points out in his editorial, these often get cut from our model railroads as we selectively compress the world.

House by the Railroad by Edward Hopper 1925

But to say such an ordinary scene is "boring" is an opinion.  Real railroads run through a variety of settings and it is up to the modeler to determine what is interesting enough to be included in the limited space we all have.  It is the operations-fixated focus of the mainstream modeling community that drives this false dichotomy between what is interesting (railroady) and what is boring (the rest of the stuff).

Let me present an idea that might serve to recapture a more positive and balanced perspective on those "boring" scenes - the Parade Route or Paradestrecke in German.  I mention the German translation because that's where I see this concept at work the most, whether on FREMO layouts or home railroads.  When possible, it is desirable to include a stretch of railroad on which trains can get up and go, run hard, stretch their legs, etc.  This is that place we all know and love, standing trackside where the power of a train can be viscerally felt as it thunders by.  

A parade route can include a featured element such as a trestle or even structures, but the primary focus is on the train.  A viewer might look at the scene and enjoy the scenery the way a person would view and enjoy a landscape painting, and it might evoke feelings of peace, tranquility, or mild interest.  But the real interest occurs when the train enters the scene.  This is the place to let that freight creep by so the viewer can admire those detailed cars you spent so much time weathering, or to send that limited express screaming by at 70 per, drivers flashing.

Railroad Sunset by Edward Hopper, 1929

The American modeling culture used to include these ideas, in part.  A classic track plan was the 'out-and-back'.  This provided a visible yard for either storing trains or possibly switching cars and a mainline loop, usually folded and twisted over itself for a longer run but with a reversing section allowing a train to return to the yard from whence it departed.  In effect, the main line was the parade route.  These plans were often accompanied by such text as "let 'em roll on the main while you switch the yard" or some similar admonishment.  Sounds like two kinds of fun at the same time.

Admittedly, those early track plans allowing for trains to just run laps were dependent on, and for the benefit of, companies that sold an ever-increasing selection of locomotives and rolling stock.  The cure for "boredom" on such a pike was to (purchase, build and) run a variety of trains, not necessarily to operate them prototypically.  But once we began heading down the path towards prototype fidelity and operation it seemed the parade routes began to wither, literally shrinking in favor of squeezing in more sidings or more closely modeling a prototype track arrangement and squeezing out "ordinary" scenery.

Long before the prototype operators gained dominance in the hobby Frank Ellison et al found a way to have your cake and eat it too, including both parade routes - though he likely didn't use that term - and serious operation that mimicked the real railroads.  John Allen did the same, as did so many of his contemporaries.  Creating a section of the railroad exclusively for watching the train travel through beautiful scenery was often as important as spotting freight cars or making station stops on time.

But today such ideas are pooh-poohed to the point that magazine editors have to write editorials encouraging folks to consider "negative space" in their operations-oriented railroads.  Perhaps these old ideas will become new again.  Today's non-hobbyist public that attend train shows generally see trains - both model and prototype - as railfans, not operators.  In the real world trains travel through ordinary scenes.  Most North American modular layouts aren't created for operating, but rather favor long trains running through ordinary scenes.

Ordinary scenes are not negative space.  

Boring is in the eye of the beholder.

The Post-Project Blahs

Recently I noticed something I hadn't paid much attention to before.  After completing the National Model Railroad Build Off diorama I got mildly and briefly depressed.  Not enough to require medical assistance or psychological intervention (no shame to anyone who needs help from either) but enough to make me take notice.  I had heard Adam Savage speak about this feeling he gets following the completion of a big project, and sure enough, that was what I was feeling.  He talks about it at length in this video:

Here's what I can add from my recent experience; my post-project depression reminded me that I really enjoyed the process of making that diorama.  I loved all four months of that work and part of the depression was knowing that after the work was done I'd be occupied with the greater life project of moving from one house to another, helping my Mom move in with us, and all the reorientation that goes along with that change of address.  Not only was that diorama done, but making similar models was on hiatus indefinitely.  That I am now even more excited to begin work on the next project is a good sign.  Success breeds success and joy builds on joy.

To those folks out there who might say this is just a bunch of psychobabble because "It's just a hobby"...sorry, that's selling it short.  That loaded phrase probably has a hundred reasons for why a person would say it and any time you hear it - whether from someone else, or echoing in your own head - don't believe it.  I can't speak for anybody else, but this hobby is important to me.  I feel great satisfaction being creative.  Anything we create, great or small, is an expression of ourselves.  While we do take a risk investing our resources, time and energy into such an thing that will be viewed by others, the work is worth the risk for the joy of creating.

More Practice

After sharing the last post about Practice, I immediately thought of a few ideas about how model railroaders might do just that - practice!  In no particular order, here they are:

Fos Scale Models Kit of the Month Club

This is a pretty cool idea from a relatively newer craftsman kit manufacturer who has been making deep inroads into that market.  If you've watched Jason Jensen build anything, you've likely seen a FOS Scale Models kit, and probably one of these offerings.  For about a dollar a day, you get twelve kits a year.  Or to put it another way, for the price of one South River Model Works or Fine Scale Miniatures kit resold on eBay, you get twelve little HO scale structure kits.  

Now $375 sounds like a lot all at once.  But how many modelers buy a single craftsman kit for that much, only to leave it on the shelf because they're afraid they might ruin it?  And ruin it they might - the fear is not unfounded if their modeling eyes have been bigger than their skills!  Setting aside the Sunk Cost Fallacy, I think it is still better to practice new techniques on smaller models over a longer time, than to dive in and take on a huge project only to lose steam part way through and leave it to gather dust.  Practice can give a person confidence to take on a larger project because the necessary skills are no longer unknown variables.

Walthers Build-A-World

Another option with a high cost up front is a new offering from Walthers.  Designed to build a full range of skills from laying track to building scenery and structures, this is a service that delivers - literally - a box of tools and supplies to your doorstep each month for six months.  The modeler follows along with a video series where experts guide them through the necessary steps to complete that month's tasks.  At the end of the process the modeler has completed one of three dioramas, (selected beforehand).

Again, $399 is a chunk of change.  It is also the cost of a new locomotive with DCC and sound, less than season tickets to the NFL franchise of your choice, and FAR less than season tickets to any NBA team.  How many movies can you see for $400?  With popcorn?  You get the idea.  While both of these options could possibly be assembled more cheaply by purchasing your own supplies or small kits, the missing factor in either case would be the pre-arranged delivery schedule.  That kit is going to show up each month.  That can be a wonderful external stimulus.

Other Options?

I have tried twice to write something positive about model railroad forums and the NMRA, only to end up grouchy and irritated.  Suffice it to say, if you find either of those options helpful, whether through periodic "challenge" builds on forums or the Achievement Program of the NMRA, good for you.  Personally I have issues with both even though I have only participated in forum challenges in the past.  Unfortunately the Attaboy Culture, at least for me, tends to rob praise of any meaning and bury or outright dismiss honest criticism as being harsh or a buzzkill.  Neither setting seems to be conducive to any structured form of practicing a technique or mastering a skill through repeated, deliberate activity.

That said, I believe joining with a group of like-minded peers to take on a group build project or learn a new skill together would be a great benefit to anyone willing to give and receive constructive criticism.  There are stories, legends really, on old VHS tapes, about "round-robin" groups with contrived names like "Hartford Workshop" or "Friday Night Choirboys" that would work on each other's railroads, visiting a different home each month.  Does anyone do this anymore?  Sure, many modelers may be lone wolves by choice and some of us by default, but if being part of a small group like this is possible, it could be a venue for the kind of encouragement and feedback that drives good practice.

If it is to be...

...it is up to me!  That was the slogan printed on a long ream of printer paper (the kind with the holes down the sides on strips you'd carefully tear away...remember that?) that hung in a middle school band classroom I visited once.  Sometimes practice is simply done as a daily discipline, mustered and motivated by a passion within or driven by a performance deadline.  Sure, a peer group for feedback would be great, but when the op session is over and the snacks have been consumed and you're left alone in the train room, who do you have to please, ultimately, but yourself?  

I for one like the idea of practicing a technique - not just trying out a new thing once - in order to gain confidence in my ability to create what I'm envisioning.  For me one such technique is applying static grass.  I only recently built my SG-1 static grass applicator and have used it exactly twice, just to try it out.  But before I apply even a blade of grass to the Pine Branch Park scenery I will be practicing on smaller test strips to learn how it behaves best and see what I can do with it.

What skill do you need to practice? 

 

Practice

The YouTube algorithm suggested this video as one I might like to watch.  It was right, this time.  I don't know anything, really, about this man but I like what he has to say in this video.  I also think there's a few nuggets for model railroaders to mine here.

There's one idea that Mr. Roberts proposes that really stuck with me and caused me to ponder; practice.  Model railroading, like it or not, is a creative art form, and is a reflection of the modeler's skill.  I say, "like it or not" because I think there's a tendency among some modelers to say, "I'm not an artist" as a way of excusing what they believe is a poor scenic result, or as a way of distancing themselves from the more overtly artistic modelers, such as the oft maligned Malcolm Furlow*.

They may resign themselves to a "Plywood Pacific" railroad, since track laying, benchwork and wiring aren't considered "artistic" skills, but engineering skills.  While these skills do take practice to master, it could be perceived as easier and less painless to relay track or fix wiring instead of ripping out scenery.  That may be because these functional aspects of the railroad are less heart and more head, so to speak, whereas scenery reflects a vision of a place that is likely connected to a mood or feeling.  We are less likely to rip out or redo something we're emotionally invested in.  

And I think model railroaders are more likely to use the word "experienced" when speaking of a skilled modeler, rather than someone who is naturally "artistic", meaning they don't need experience, but are born talented and take to a skill easily.  "Mastering a skill" is not a phrase I hear used by model railroaders.  That sounds too much like work, and this is a hobby, right?  Well....um....Is the implication there that hobbies don't take skill? 

Perhaps the problem is one of practice.  While I think it is environmentally irresponsible and perhaps signifies a lack of planning, there is some merit to Joe Fugate's "Chainsaw" layout idea, wherein the first layout a person builds is understood from day one to be destined for the dumpster.  That's because it is a test bed on which mistakes can be made without fear, knowing you likely won't be keeping the thing.  It is in essence, a practice layout. 

But maybe there's a better way.  Recently I was reflecting on a diorama I had built and some of the mistakes I made during that project.  One such mistake was in the use of overly-coarse texture to represent a dirt path.  On close examination, my Dad remarked that some of the particles were large enough to be stones when viewed next to the man and his horse standing on that path.  He was right, and that observation was spot on.  While I haven't decided on the final disposition of that diorama, I'm not going to toss it in the dumpster!  The offending texture can be scraped away, vacuumed and replaced, or the structures and figures removed and used elsewhere.  (Full disclosure: I did take a hand saw to it, however, in order to divide it for use on a previous railroad.  I had initially planned to put it on the Pine Branch Park pike, but changed my mind.)

This is where people who paint miniatures or make sketches have an advantage.  A sketch can be recycled, literally, and a miniature can be stripped or painted over.  Scenicking a diorama or a larger area involves much much more than just paint or pencil and paper.  At bare minimum there's a layer of paint, then glue, and some sort of ground cover.  In more advanced scenic work there can be many layers of color and texture plus trees, shrubs, rocks, details, etc.  Starting over isn't as simple as tossing a model in a sonic cleaner with some LA's Totally Awesome.  

So how DO model railroaders practice?  Building many dioramas?  Multiple railroads?  And what about clubs?  The aforementioned diorama was built as part of a club challenge to kitbash a Life-Like General Store.  I used it as an opportunity to try some new techniques and materials, but is it practice?  It certainly fits with Mr. Robert's idea of a group challenge with peer feedback.  

I've been at this hobby long enough to see my own skills improve, but I can say without doubt that I have not "practiced" any of those skills.  I play the piano and I practice daily - deliberate practice.  I solicit feedback from peers and am considering taking some lessons again to improve my skills.  Though I am being paid to play the piano, I would still practice to improve my skill and thus increase my enjoyment of the instrument and the music I make with it.  So how much more would I enjoy my hobby if I practiced those skills that cause me grief - enough that I'd rather watch YouTube than sit at my workbench and face a potential failure?

*By the way, I absolutely love Furlow's work just as it is and I have always found it inspiring and enjoyable to look at.  When this pandemic is past us, the California State RR Museum's Model Railroading Exhibit is on my short list of places to visit sooner than later, primarily because Furlow's San Juan Central is on display there.