Mounted Samurai
15th Century
200MM (Approximately 11" Tall), White Metal Converted Kit - November, 2024
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The Kit
This is an old kit. This is a BIG kit, coming in at 200mm and weighing about 12 pounds. Produced in 1981 and either not popular or perhaps too expensive, by the time I acquired it in the mid to late 1980's sitting on a vendor table at a show, it was already rare. The kit was produced by "Calder Craft" (AKA Hinchliffe Models) and I believe it was a derivative of the Hinchliffe RL0/1 Kit of the "Taisho" Samurai sculpted originally by Ray Lamb. I have both kits and the upper parts of this mounted kit (torsos, arms, etc.) are identical to the foot figure. Typical of the kits of that era, the entire figure is cast in "white metal" - a mixture of lead and pewter that didn't suffer many of the problems found in softer lead figures. I wish I had images of the unboxed kit - as it was pretty unique - each part was effectively shrink wrapped onto cardboard to protect parts from damage and each piece was clearly numbered on the card. Helpful during assembly, I never saw and have since never seen any type of packaging like this. As one can guess form other pages on this site, I have a great admiration for the classic, older kits (though when I acquired this one, it wasn't quite "old" yet). There are a large number of beautifully sculpted, exquisitely cast kits sitting in basements around the world that with a little bit of work and imagination can still produce a great finished piece. This is one of them, thought the key word being "work". In addition to the painting challenge of really, any version of a Samurai can be, this is also a bit of an engineering project. What to assemble, and in what order, was critical in this case. Even though I typically assemble as much as possible early on, this piece required a lot of planning. To give you an idea of just the vast number of parts, see the instruction sheet below. |
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I. Planning
Anytime I start on a piece I plan out and imagine what the finished piece will look like. It's kind of my "process" to select the figure, select the base, draw out and determine placement, how the piece will sit in its environment and usually I end up using some unique bases and include some detail in the environment. The goal is to place the piece in a particular moment in time.
In this case, realizing the finished piece would be very visually busy, I chose to add as little as possible so as not to distract form the figure itself.
A simple Rosewood pedestal would work fine.
Anytime I start on a piece I plan out and imagine what the finished piece will look like. It's kind of my "process" to select the figure, select the base, draw out and determine placement, how the piece will sit in its environment and usually I end up using some unique bases and include some detail in the environment. The goal is to place the piece in a particular moment in time.
In this case, realizing the finished piece would be very visually busy, I chose to add as little as possible so as not to distract form the figure itself.
A simple Rosewood pedestal would work fine.
Once the base was selected it was time to figure out what I envisioned the finished piece would look like ....
The fun begins. Research. I do a considerable amount of research for every piece. That said, depending on the subject, I also often take "artistic license" and work to create something that I find more visually appealing. If I'm presenting an actual, historical personality or event, then I will make sure the piece is as close to 100% accurate as possible. In the case of Samurai, the vast breadth and width of the warrior class of medieval Japan allows for a little more of that artistic license. Hence why this piece is simply titled "Mounted Samurai" and is not representative of a specific person in Japanese history. This doesn't mean I typically just make shit up. As in this case, the various aspects of this piece are a combination of actual, historical patterns and elements, just not all from the same historical person. Depending on the rank, and social class of the Samurai, their armor could range from the very simple, to the most elaborate. Always having been someone who loves a big challenge, guess where I went? Thankfully there are plenty of references both in print and online covering armor of this period in Japan. The Metropolitan Museum of Art in NY was also a good source of both inspiration and information. Now that I've shared my current process, I have to say, at the time I purchased this kit, little of that applied - except maybe SOME research, from limited sources. The Bloomfield, NJ Public Library had maybe 3 books on Samurai and virtually none had images, and this was the stone ages before the internet, so... Anyway, for the purposes of this article, I'll spend most of the time on how the kit was finished in 2024 with just a few flashbacks to the days before instant access to everything. But first, I do need to explain how the horse was executed, since that part did basically start long ago... |
Simple, colored lacquer armor
More complex patterns and colors
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More elaborate patterns found in upper end armor
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As mentioned above, sources back then were pretty limited. What I did find however was that the kit's horse ornamentation was a bit different than anything I had found and although the kit had some "animation" to it, the tassels seemed to be overly animated.
The ornamentation, part of which is called the Sangai (the upper straps to which the tassels are connected) had to be removed in my view. Being metal, this seemed daunting at first, but it turned out that my trusty Dremel tool made easy work of it. Looking back, I probably should have worn a mask, but hey, at the time there was nothing unusual about having a packed ashtray, with a lit cigarette sitting next to a giant can of lacquer thinners, so a mask wasn't really on my radar.
Sadly, though I know I took photos of the piece back then, I can't find them, so for much of this, there aren't any step by steps. In this particular case, you can see the tassels found on the kit thanks to the image of the box at lower left, and what I wanted to achieve on the lower right.
The ornamentation, part of which is called the Sangai (the upper straps to which the tassels are connected) had to be removed in my view. Being metal, this seemed daunting at first, but it turned out that my trusty Dremel tool made easy work of it. Looking back, I probably should have worn a mask, but hey, at the time there was nothing unusual about having a packed ashtray, with a lit cigarette sitting next to a giant can of lacquer thinners, so a mask wasn't really on my radar.
Sadly, though I know I took photos of the piece back then, I can't find them, so for much of this, there aren't any step by steps. In this particular case, you can see the tassels found on the kit thanks to the image of the box at lower left, and what I wanted to achieve on the lower right.
The kit's original Sangai and tassels and what I used as a reference to the right and below.
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So the question back then was how? Now that I've successfully removed the old tassels, how do I make the new ones. I was nowhere near being able to sculpt anything. Aside from reading about this miracle stuff called 'Epoxy Putty" in Shep Paine's "How to Build Dioramas" book, I couldn't find it anywhere at the time, so the challenge was how in God's name was I going to do this? It wasn't going to be putty.
After trying different gauges of wire, twisting a few strands before realizing I'd be in my 50's by the time I was done (Ironic, as time told), I gave up for a few weeks until I stumbled on my grandmother's needlepoint kits where I found the "perfect scale" string that would work. After gluing some onto the horse and ending up with what looked like a doll-like toy with a frizz problem, I kept trying different ways of applying it until the idea of soaking the strands in diluted white glue seemed it might work.
After soaking in the solution, I would lay it on a surface of talcum powder so it wouldn't stick and let it dry a bit, but not completely so it remained pliable. All of the strands were then glued to soft "lead foil" backing strips to keep them together and positioned in place on the horse. As it dried, I used various tools to push and hold the strands in the same direction so as to make them appear to be moving in the wind. Once completely dry, I followed up with a light sanding as the strings had considerable "fuzz" despite the glue solution.
That was the major flaw in this method that I discovered much later. Fuzz.
Sadly, I had photos of this process but have no idea what happened to them - they were from long before the age of digital images, let alone mobile phone cameras. But you can get an idea of the process in the images taken during painting a little further in this article.
After trying different gauges of wire, twisting a few strands before realizing I'd be in my 50's by the time I was done (Ironic, as time told), I gave up for a few weeks until I stumbled on my grandmother's needlepoint kits where I found the "perfect scale" string that would work. After gluing some onto the horse and ending up with what looked like a doll-like toy with a frizz problem, I kept trying different ways of applying it until the idea of soaking the strands in diluted white glue seemed it might work.
After soaking in the solution, I would lay it on a surface of talcum powder so it wouldn't stick and let it dry a bit, but not completely so it remained pliable. All of the strands were then glued to soft "lead foil" backing strips to keep them together and positioned in place on the horse. As it dried, I used various tools to push and hold the strands in the same direction so as to make them appear to be moving in the wind. Once completely dry, I followed up with a light sanding as the strings had considerable "fuzz" despite the glue solution.
That was the major flaw in this method that I discovered much later. Fuzz.
Sadly, I had photos of this process but have no idea what happened to them - they were from long before the age of digital images, let alone mobile phone cameras. But you can get an idea of the process in the images taken during painting a little further in this article.
II. The Pause
If I recall correctly, the work on the tassels took maybe 2 to 3 weeks of a solid 3 hours per day.
Taking each piece of string, dipping it, letting most of the solution run off and then positioning each piece onto a metal backing, waiting for it to dry, but not fully, was a very time consuming and vulgarity-laden process. Once it was done, the figure was set aside to dry completely before I came across the second obstacle. The face.
Although the face was good by most standards of the time it looked a bit flat to me, The problem was I was neither a sculptor, nor even that good of a painter. Fixing it would be a major challenge, so I shifted to trying to research the armor and trying to determine if I was able to replicate the patterns in scale. At the time I was going to school for Architecture and was enrolled in a lot of design and art classes, so I had plenty of drafting pens, inks and the like.
After a few weeks of trying to "draw" patterns and then "apply" them to the figure, I frankly just gave up. The big "duh" I look back on was that I kept trying to draw on tracing paper, then transfer those drawing on the figure rather than simply drawing them on the figure - I don't remember my actual thought process at the time, but my guess is I was so used to drawing and painting on a 2D surface, that my brain couldn't adjust.
It was then, our mounted friend, or rather his horse, was relegated to the shelf where he sat for another 35 years or so.
If I recall correctly, the work on the tassels took maybe 2 to 3 weeks of a solid 3 hours per day.
Taking each piece of string, dipping it, letting most of the solution run off and then positioning each piece onto a metal backing, waiting for it to dry, but not fully, was a very time consuming and vulgarity-laden process. Once it was done, the figure was set aside to dry completely before I came across the second obstacle. The face.
Although the face was good by most standards of the time it looked a bit flat to me, The problem was I was neither a sculptor, nor even that good of a painter. Fixing it would be a major challenge, so I shifted to trying to research the armor and trying to determine if I was able to replicate the patterns in scale. At the time I was going to school for Architecture and was enrolled in a lot of design and art classes, so I had plenty of drafting pens, inks and the like.
After a few weeks of trying to "draw" patterns and then "apply" them to the figure, I frankly just gave up. The big "duh" I look back on was that I kept trying to draw on tracing paper, then transfer those drawing on the figure rather than simply drawing them on the figure - I don't remember my actual thought process at the time, but my guess is I was so used to drawing and painting on a 2D surface, that my brain couldn't adjust.
It was then, our mounted friend, or rather his horse, was relegated to the shelf where he sat for another 35 years or so.
If you squint, you can see the horse on the top shelf, where he sat for many years to come.
III. Fast Forward
For most of my life, for varying reasons, my painting output has been very low year over year. Work, family, pretty much everything always cut into time at the bench. I'd be lucky to produce 1-2 figures per year. Forget major projects.
COVID changed all that and I began painting more and more each year and decided it was time to finish so many of the "gray army". This kit was still set aside because I knew it would either lead to a year of near constant work, or a one-way free ride in the twinkiemobile.
Fortunately, it was the former.
Having put out a (for me) large number of quicker pieces for the last few years and even producing my first ever major conversion/original piece, I felt I was ready to tackle a big project and devote the time to it.
And so began the saga.....
Where to Pick Up
When working on mounted figures I always start with the horse for a few reasons. The biggest one being that I don't really care for painting horses - I find that at times, the coat often conflicts with my notion of shadow and highlights - don't ask me why.
Secondly are the myriad of breeds, coats, hooves, manes, muzzles, eyes, etc. It also helps to just sit the finished figure on a finished horse and call it done. So, I start there and get it over with first. In this case, the horse had been assembled for decades, so I had that going for me. |
As the tassels were already in place, painting the horse's coat was tricker than usual, and the undersides virtually impossible.
To cut down on waste, frustration and hopefully achieve a better result it was time to break out the airbrush. That did a decent job of laying the key colors, shadows and highlights but then since this horse is pretty huge, all the detail still needed to be worked in with oils and once completely dry, highest highlights with acrylics. At this point, the horse was on its "working base", lightly glued to a wood block - but I could already tell that in order to paint it and finish it without damaging it while being placed on its final base, it had to be mounted. |
Engineering, Part Deux
A little engineering, some drilling and a whole lot of anti-inflammatory meds helped me get through mounting this horse to it's permanent display base much earlier than I am used to.
The horse mounted to its final display base using 1/8' bolts running up the horse's legs, bolted underneath and the holes reinforced with epoxy putty.
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Though placing it on its final display base made painting considerably harder - in addition to the weight of just this horse being close to 10 pounds, the 10" diameter base was not only also heavy, but awkward. I've never painted something on my lap before, but I guess there is a first time for everything.
It was also tricky to paint details "en situ" almost like one would paint on a canvas. Being used to having my arm or wrist braced against something, the was tricky but I ended up using a ruler wrapped in cloth placed as near as possible to the detail to rest on.
It was also tricky to paint details "en situ" almost like one would paint on a canvas. Being used to having my arm or wrist braced against something, the was tricky but I ended up using a ruler wrapped in cloth placed as near as possible to the detail to rest on.
IV. The Horse
A horse is a horse of course so I won't get too deep into how I painted the actual horse as there are countless articles, written by painters vastly superior to me on the subject, so the only part I will spend a little time on is the muzzle, as a dear friend of mine seems to like this part best.
A horse is a horse of course so I won't get too deep into how I painted the actual horse as there are countless articles, written by painters vastly superior to me on the subject, so the only part I will spend a little time on is the muzzle, as a dear friend of mine seems to like this part best.
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This is an area I admit not to be very good at generally so like anything else, I spent a lot of time to try to bring it to the best level I could.
This meant a lot of books on horses. Lots of research on what a muzzle looks like close up. And trying to figure out ways to replicate it in this scale (you can often "get away with" a quick solution in a smaller scale because you can trick the eye, not so in 200mm). So it was a lot of experimentation. First in acrylics in offwhite and varying shades of pink. Then stippling with more shades of pink and umber in oils - but very lightly, and finally with heavy stippling with umber, pink flesh and finally for the darkest areas, sepia oils. Wrapping it all up with some very light blending where the stippling was too harsh. I wash I could say I did A then B then C specifically, but as with most of my work, I try different methods, materials and mediums and it I get to the point where I'm satisfied. |
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The Tassels
When it comes to painting miniatures, I have always found that the same advice for virtually every human endeavor applies - do the work. If you want something to look good, you have to put in the effort - shortcuts are often very obvious. Drybrushing has its place in certain applications, but if you want to produce a highly detailed piece.....you have to paint the detail. Every bit of it.
In the case of these tassels, that meant at certain points shading and highlighting the individual weaves on each strand of each tassel. It is a lot of tedious and repetitive work, but it provides for a more visually realistic and striking result over if it were done using a dry brush method. That, and in this case, as mentioned earlier, there was still a considerable amount of "fuzz", now stiffened by glue and primer, that if I had tried to drybrush would have looked like a mess.
Though I don't have images of the primed piece, as that was done long ago, below are the initial painting steps for the tassels.
When it comes to painting miniatures, I have always found that the same advice for virtually every human endeavor applies - do the work. If you want something to look good, you have to put in the effort - shortcuts are often very obvious. Drybrushing has its place in certain applications, but if you want to produce a highly detailed piece.....you have to paint the detail. Every bit of it.
In the case of these tassels, that meant at certain points shading and highlighting the individual weaves on each strand of each tassel. It is a lot of tedious and repetitive work, but it provides for a more visually realistic and striking result over if it were done using a dry brush method. That, and in this case, as mentioned earlier, there was still a considerable amount of "fuzz", now stiffened by glue and primer, that if I had tried to drybrush would have looked like a mess.
Though I don't have images of the primed piece, as that was done long ago, below are the initial painting steps for the tassels.
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On the left above is the first coat of paint - Sometimes I start with a base color and paint shadows later, but knowing this would be a complex job, I started with the deepest color/shadow to effectively build up to the highlights.
On the right is the second coat (base) color added. It is a mix of the deep red/black shadow coat and simple "red". Note that only the larger, higher areas are covered in the lighter color but leaving the darker shadow in between.
On the right is the second coat (base) color added. It is a mix of the deep red/black shadow coat and simple "red". Note that only the larger, higher areas are covered in the lighter color but leaving the darker shadow in between.
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Then the first highlight is painted.
This is where the real work comes in. Whereas the shadow was just brushed everywhere and the base color painted on each strand from top to bottom, at this stage I'm painting each individual weave. The photo at left shows the dramatic increase in contrast. For now it's just vermillion. The good news is the areas painted individually get smaller and smaller with each pass in order to represent the highlights. Each quarter took about 3-4 hours. |
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The next highest highlight is painted in with a mix of vermillion and scarlet again individually painting each weave of the tassel.
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Finally, the "peaks" are completed with a mixture of scarlet and Reaper "Lava red" which is almost orange but still red.
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Normally at this point it's time for the saddle, but with this kit, the "saddle" is a representation of the wooden, lacquered "Kura" that is actually cast as part of the rider's legs, so that will come later.
So next was the "Aori" or the leather/fur pieces that hang to the sides of the saddle to protect the sides of the horse from the stirrups. This was pretty straight forward "fur" painted in varying shades of brown.
So next was the "Aori" or the leather/fur pieces that hang to the sides of the saddle to protect the sides of the horse from the stirrups. This was pretty straight forward "fur" painted in varying shades of brown.
Above is a close up of the Aori.
Again, due to the kit's size, each of these pieces were quite heavy, making attachment to the font difficult and then required putty to blend it into the horse's mane in the rear (and thus having to be painted again). |
The next step - adding the bridle to the front.
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And back.
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V. The Rider
Now onto the rider, a Samurai of the 15th Century Sengoku Period.
As I shared earlier, this was as much an engineering project as a painting project. You can see in the parts layout below, it was a larger number of parts that if not painted prior to assembly, would have been impossible to finish after.
Now onto the rider, a Samurai of the 15th Century Sengoku Period.
As I shared earlier, this was as much an engineering project as a painting project. You can see in the parts layout below, it was a larger number of parts that if not painted prior to assembly, would have been impossible to finish after.
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The first piece painted and set into place were the legs. The Tattsuke-bakama or the riding pants were designed to give the rider freedom of movement, but also seemed to be another opportunity to connect the warrior and his spiritual side.
The pants were first painted in blue - base + shadow+ highlight + higher highlights. Then, the pattern, found in a book I have on Japanese Ornamentation, was painted much in the same way - the entire pattern was painted in in the darkest shadow color (dark gray), then a lighter shade of gray in the base, lighter gray highlight and peaks in light gray + white. Though it's hard to tell in the photo, the contrast is more visible in person. Finally for the pattern, the red flowers were painted in followed by a lighter "peak" shade of the blue touched around the highest areas. For the Tabi (socks), a pattern of gold trees (not pictured) were painted in, with the Suneate (armor shinguard) and stirrup painted black and gloss coated to reflect the lacquered iron and wood used during the period. Ornamentation was finished with NMM underneath and touched with Gold printer's ink. Finally, the shoes are painted up to appear as fur starting with the deepest shadows all the way up to highest highlight. At the same time the "Kura" or saddle was painted, and a pattern of flowers drawn in, only for me to discover later that it would be completely invisible. But it's there! |
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The Do-Maru
Now, the biggest challenge, yet the most entertaining part of the piece, the front armor pattern. The "Do-Maru" - the part of the armor suit that wrapped the warrior's torso.
It looks like the most difficult part of this, but it really wasn't. It was just a question of careful planning before putting brush to paint. There is no magic bullet and when painting these types of patterns, the technique is easy to recreate if you approach it methodically and measure. First paint the basecoat - in this case, light desert sand.
What's the expression in carpentry? "Measure twice, cut once"? Same concept, different medium. Using a small ruler, just measure out the main squares of the pattern and using a mechanical pencil (regular pencils are too big and the lead, too soft).
It looks like the most difficult part of this, but it really wasn't. It was just a question of careful planning before putting brush to paint. There is no magic bullet and when painting these types of patterns, the technique is easy to recreate if you approach it methodically and measure. First paint the basecoat - in this case, light desert sand.
What's the expression in carpentry? "Measure twice, cut once"? Same concept, different medium. Using a small ruler, just measure out the main squares of the pattern and using a mechanical pencil (regular pencils are too big and the lead, too soft).
Step one. Paint the background in the desired color - in this case light sand. Measure the squares in the pattern to the desired size, and draw the initial lines in with a light soft pencil.
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Step two. Paint the entire "grid" in black. Though this image skips a step, you can go back and paint the squares in the center of each thick black line in the original sand background color. Then paint the initial circles at each corner.
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Step three. Using a plastic or even frisket cut circle stencil draw in the circles in pencil (not shown) to ensure placement and size. Then paint over the pencil lines with black and in this case deep red. At the point the red square is also painted in the cross points of the patern.
Step five. Using the base background color of lt. sand, paint the lines to create the "squares" in the main patterns and to cut the circles into "slices".
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Step four. Continue painting additional patterns of circles as the pattern calls for. At this stage a pencil drawing isn't really necessary as that is to make sure everything is even. Which is already set at this stage.
Steps 6 and 7. Using the background color again, paint in varying patterns in each "square". To finish, using a brush that holds paint well, touch dots in between all of the patterns.
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Below you can see the same method used on the helmet to reproduce the patterns on either side.
In this case I didn't use pencil lines first, since I had by this point already been doing this for so long I ended up doing it freehand.
In this case I didn't use pencil lines first, since I had by this point already been doing this for so long I ended up doing it freehand.
If this seems daunting, it isn't.
Always remember, this is paint. If you make a mistake, it's easy to paint over the mistake. |
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I find it somewhat "soothing" to "rough in" the patterns and then go back and clean them up.
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He is starting to come together.
I paint faces first. Always. I think it was Shep Paine who said it's critical to get that right first, because no matter how well you paint everything else, if the face doesn't look right, the whole figure won't. It makes perfect sense - not many people can look at a piece of Samurai armor and immediately feel something is "off", but we see faces every day. If the face isn't right, slightly cross eyed, or not animated enough, anyone can immediately see that.
What did concern me was being able to pull off the patterns I shared above convincingly - which is why the face came later, and I started painting in a different order.
For a kit from 1981, from the face was good, not great, but good. It was a bit too "flat" in my opinion and it just seems bit "off" to me. This is no criticism to the sculpt, it was in line, if not better than the sculpts of the day, but being that it is 2024, I felt if I painted it "as is" it wouldn't have been up to the standard I wanted to achieve for the rest of the kit.
So, even though I'm not a sculptor per see, I figured I'd give a resculpt of the face a try. After a few attempts where I ended up peeling the putty off, I was finally happy with the results so onto the painting. Usually I paint something this big in oils, but I wanted to give acrylics a try and so he was done in all acrylics.
I paint faces first. Always. I think it was Shep Paine who said it's critical to get that right first, because no matter how well you paint everything else, if the face doesn't look right, the whole figure won't. It makes perfect sense - not many people can look at a piece of Samurai armor and immediately feel something is "off", but we see faces every day. If the face isn't right, slightly cross eyed, or not animated enough, anyone can immediately see that.
What did concern me was being able to pull off the patterns I shared above convincingly - which is why the face came later, and I started painting in a different order.
For a kit from 1981, from the face was good, not great, but good. It was a bit too "flat" in my opinion and it just seems bit "off" to me. This is no criticism to the sculpt, it was in line, if not better than the sculpts of the day, but being that it is 2024, I felt if I painted it "as is" it wouldn't have been up to the standard I wanted to achieve for the rest of the kit.
So, even though I'm not a sculptor per see, I figured I'd give a resculpt of the face a try. After a few attempts where I ended up peeling the putty off, I was finally happy with the results so onto the painting. Usually I paint something this big in oils, but I wanted to give acrylics a try and so he was done in all acrylics.
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The Armor
This is where the wheels almost fell off. As much as I love to paint, how passionate I am about detail and what a sucker I am for complex challenging projects, this 12 pound hunk o'metal was about to put a big dent in my studio wall.
It was just very repetitive and tedious. Whereas the pattern posed challenges to overcome, this part was just the same thing over and over.
To try and overcome it, I proceeded in an assembly line fashion. So, any piece of armor was painted in a line. First primed in black, then painted in black, then sprayed with high gloss to replicate the beautiful, lacquered iron plates used in Japanese armor. This was a doubled edge sword. I had to apply gloss first, so the finish would be apparent in between the embroidery, but it also meant I ran the risk of wearing down the gloss (and black) while I held the piece during painting.
My solution was simple, yet mostly effective - I wore cloth museum gloves on my left hand while painting. I still had some wear that I was able to touch up later, but much less than I'd have had if bare handed.
Some pieces of the armor also had the pattern which had to be painted not only on the outside, but the inner surfaces because during test fitting, I discovered the inner sides were completely visible. Joy.
Prior to even starting, I pondered whether to use multiple colors or stick to varying shades of the same or similar colors. I had found references that showed embroidery of the same color, but I found it to be somewhat boring. Then others where it was varying colors such as green and violet were odd to me - so I opted with sticking to different tones of basically, red.
Then the work began.
Base color was the deepest shade of each color, then it was gradually built up with highlights and then the lightest highlight was the peak of each embroidered cord. Remember what I said about "doing the work"? Well here it is. Each piece took about a week or 2 hours per night. Just building it up until each cord had some level of depth.
Fortunately, this is similar to painting NMM (non metallic metal), but doesn't require so much care about where the light hits to be convincing. It's basically the deepest shadows at the bottom, the highest highlights at the top.
Also, you can see a hint of the embroidery on the inner surfaces in the last image at lower right, which thankfully didn't require all of the shading and highlight as it isn't that visible...whew!
The last step was the application of gold printer's inks on the metal surfaces. Here I did paint them first using the NMM technique, then topping them off with actual gold to get a bit more depth.
Then the work began.
Base color was the deepest shade of each color, then it was gradually built up with highlights and then the lightest highlight was the peak of each embroidered cord. Remember what I said about "doing the work"? Well here it is. Each piece took about a week or 2 hours per night. Just building it up until each cord had some level of depth.
Fortunately, this is similar to painting NMM (non metallic metal), but doesn't require so much care about where the light hits to be convincing. It's basically the deepest shadows at the bottom, the highest highlights at the top.
Also, you can see a hint of the embroidery on the inner surfaces in the last image at lower right, which thankfully didn't require all of the shading and highlight as it isn't that visible...whew!
The last step was the application of gold printer's inks on the metal surfaces. Here I did paint them first using the NMM technique, then topping them off with actual gold to get a bit more depth.
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Getting back to assembly, all of the test fitting paid off.
I was able to tell beforehand that I couldn't attach the arms or upper plates until the lower (Haidate) armor, Katana (sword) and arrow quiver were fixed in place. One important thing to note is how they are affixed. Every part in this kit were set in place using wither 5 or 30 minute 2 part epoxy. |
VI. Approaching the Finish Line
At this point - the point you see in the images above, it's around September 2024. I started around May 2024. Though sometimes I'll start a piece and set it aside if I get annoyed or bored, or simply will go long periods without painting, in this cases this was at least 3 ours per night, minimum 3 nights per week and some 6-hour weekend sessions.
Very often I found myself painting and repainting until it felt right. That's not to say it's perfect, I see a lot of issues with some areas, but it's time to move on. Acknowledge that if you ever reach a point where you are 100% satisfied with a piece, it's time to take up fishing.
But I could feel it. I was so close.
It was time to paint the left arm, which is called the "Kote", or armored sleeve. Traditionally this was a different color and/or pattern than the Tattsuke-bakama (pants and robe). And protected the Samurai's "shooting arm".
As I had already used red and blue, and typically the Kote was a stark contrasting design or pattern, I chose to paint it a base of yellow and added a pattern of dragon flies that coordinated with the dragon fly crest on the quiver.
As with every other pattern each dragonfly and flower were painted dark first, to base, to highlight to peak.
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Finally came the placement of the "Sode" or shoulder plates.
Despite test fitting repeatedly, when in place, there were considerable gaps between the armor and the sleeves. This meant squeezing modelling putty (God bless Vallejo for their soft model putty) with a syringe VERY carefully, then squeezing in there with a wet, soft brush to smooth it out. Once dry, just a touch of dark umber ink on the yellow sleeve and black ink on the blue sleeve, ran along the seem and made it invisible. I then built up a series of washes (visible on the photo at left above) to create a shadow of the Sode.
Despite test fitting repeatedly, when in place, there were considerable gaps between the armor and the sleeves. This meant squeezing modelling putty (God bless Vallejo for their soft model putty) with a syringe VERY carefully, then squeezing in there with a wet, soft brush to smooth it out. Once dry, just a touch of dark umber ink on the yellow sleeve and black ink on the blue sleeve, ran along the seem and made it invisible. I then built up a series of washes (visible on the photo at left above) to create a shadow of the Sode.
The final assembly step was the helmet, or Kabuto. Although I felt it was a bit too wide and "flat" initially, when in place, resting on the Samurai's right side Sode, it landed more realistically.
Here again, I realized while test fitting that the interior had to be painted as well since it was visible. Having researched how these interiors were treated historically, I was happy to discover I could skip yet another pattern as many were lined with simple cloth or silk. Another whew!
The only other minor irritation was after having painted the pattern on the right side Sode so carefully, it too was covered. Oh well, trust me, it's there despite being a clear violation of my "don't paint what you can't see" rule.
The Kabuto was painted already during the steps above, so the final placement was relatively quick - just meant sitting for 30 minutes holding it while the epoxy set. I still can't feel my arm, but hopefully it stays.
Here again, I realized while test fitting that the interior had to be painted as well since it was visible. Having researched how these interiors were treated historically, I was happy to discover I could skip yet another pattern as many were lined with simple cloth or silk. Another whew!
The only other minor irritation was after having painted the pattern on the right side Sode so carefully, it too was covered. Oh well, trust me, it's there despite being a clear violation of my "don't paint what you can't see" rule.
The Kabuto was painted already during the steps above, so the final placement was relatively quick - just meant sitting for 30 minutes holding it while the epoxy set. I still can't feel my arm, but hopefully it stays.
The last part of the piece is fittingly known as the Maedate or the crest that was an ornamental piece tied with the wearer's beliefs, family or aspirations.
It not only served as a decoration, but also as a form of psychological warfare. It's visibility made the warrior's presence on the battlefield known and elevated the spiritual aspects of the samurai's armor. Aside from this historical aspect, it is literally a focal point on this figure as well, so I had to think about how to finish it. Welp, since they were typical made or layered in gold, why not...gold? Or gold leaf rather. Anyone who has every used this stuff knows it's tricky as hell to apply. On frames, you want a kind of crackle finish, not on the longer pieces here. I had one shot to get it on the prepared tacky surface, and smooth it out without ripping. This stuff rips if you look at it the wrong way. So I practiced, over and over, on pieces of plastic, metal, everything. When I was finally ready, on went the primer, the adhesive size and with breath held, the gold. |
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At first as you can see in the image at left it was pretty messy, but after a few minutes of careful brushing with a soft brush to get it into every crease, it smoothed out. Then came the trimming and repair of any parts that peeled.
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Finally came the finishing touches on the Demon's face. It didn't look realistic with just the gold leaf, so using different printer's inks in gold, and mixing with silver as well as copper until the desired shades were achieved.
Thankfully, unlike the longer, flatter surfaces in the upper areas, many Maedate were also finished using a form of gold leaf and did have the crackling appearing around sculpted symbols as it appears in the photo below. So what at first I thought was a mistake turned out to be more realistic. I think we are up to what? 6 "whews"?
Thankfully, unlike the longer, flatter surfaces in the upper areas, many Maedate were also finished using a form of gold leaf and did have the crackling appearing around sculpted symbols as it appears in the photo below. So what at first I thought was a mistake turned out to be more realistic. I think we are up to what? 6 "whews"?
With that final piece, he was done.
In roughly 6 months to the day from taking this "shelf queen" off the shelf, pretty much nonstop, a first for me, he was finished.
Despite the occasional repetition and tedium, this was a pretty entertaining piece to work on. From the planning to the testing, to the engineering and even how to tackle the challenges of the patterns, it kept my interest for a longer period than any other piece I can remember.
One of the aspects of this art that I appreciate most is the experimentation. I love doing, redoing, repainting, trying, until it's "right" or at least "pretty good". It's one of the reasons I often have a difficult time explaining my process or presenting my style - It changes, almost daily. If I paint yellow, how I paint it today, is likely to be a 180 from how I painted it last month because I might be trying a new mix, new medium or brand.
Whenever I'm asked about my "technique", I don't really have one. The only advice I can really ever give anyone is have fun. F$%k around till you find out. Experiment, play, try, put in the work and if what you are looking for is results, you will get there. It might be via a completely different route than your last piece, or how someone else does it, but isn't the point of all this the creative process?
Hopefully as a reader you got something from this article even if it's just inspiration to take that 35 year old kit off the shelf scrub the dust off of it and enjoy painting it.
Below are some more in progress shots. Unfortunately, I often get so engrossed, even if I meant to write an article, I forget to take pictures because I just keep going.
-Lou Masses, November, 2024
In roughly 6 months to the day from taking this "shelf queen" off the shelf, pretty much nonstop, a first for me, he was finished.
Despite the occasional repetition and tedium, this was a pretty entertaining piece to work on. From the planning to the testing, to the engineering and even how to tackle the challenges of the patterns, it kept my interest for a longer period than any other piece I can remember.
One of the aspects of this art that I appreciate most is the experimentation. I love doing, redoing, repainting, trying, until it's "right" or at least "pretty good". It's one of the reasons I often have a difficult time explaining my process or presenting my style - It changes, almost daily. If I paint yellow, how I paint it today, is likely to be a 180 from how I painted it last month because I might be trying a new mix, new medium or brand.
Whenever I'm asked about my "technique", I don't really have one. The only advice I can really ever give anyone is have fun. F$%k around till you find out. Experiment, play, try, put in the work and if what you are looking for is results, you will get there. It might be via a completely different route than your last piece, or how someone else does it, but isn't the point of all this the creative process?
Hopefully as a reader you got something from this article even if it's just inspiration to take that 35 year old kit off the shelf scrub the dust off of it and enjoy painting it.
Below are some more in progress shots. Unfortunately, I often get so engrossed, even if I meant to write an article, I forget to take pictures because I just keep going.
-Lou Masses, November, 2024
