I love reading, and I tend to buy more books than I can read, stacking them on my desk, which is called "tsundoku." Similarly, I enjoy building models, and when I buy more models than I can assemble, creating a mountain of boxes, that's referred to as "tsumi-plamo." In my case, if I start building models now, I feel like I would completely neglect my work, so even stacking boxes feels daunting. I hold back and occasionally search for model sites to distract my model-building cravings.
For someone like me, who wants to build models but lacks the energy and courage to tackle a pile of unbuilt kits, the current situation where images and videos of models are being posted all over Instagram feels like a paradise. Talented modelers from around the world are showcasing their works in every conceivable style.
Speaking of model-related content I see on social media, I first noticed the works of an incredibly skilled diorama modeler. I stumbled upon their work while searching for "craft" or "landscape" to explore the direction of background art for an animation I was involved with at the time. Since then, I've found myself following posts like this more closely.
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As a result, related posts about modeling and dioramas start getting pushed to me. On Instagram, there seems to be a surprising number of railway models. Particularly, the massive railway models from overseas (mainly from the U.S.) are interesting, as they often post videos of large freight trains as a staple. It’s like they’re having a competition to see who can connect the longest train.
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There are also many figure-related posts. (There might be even more figure-related content on Pinterest than on Instagram.) I think this column will also cover topics related to characters and sculpting.
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That said, I truly believe it's a great time for model enthusiasts. When I was a child, there weren't that many "well-made model photos" circulating in the world.
Just to give a bit of background. As a child, I was into plastic models. The ones I enjoyed making the most were Tamiya's Military Miniature Series tanks (mostly old German army ones), and the Waterline Series warships from Hasegawa and Fujimi (mostly Japanese ones), as well as fighter planes (I built a lot of U.S. military jets, especially Phantoms. For some reason, I feel like I made a ton of Phantoms. Thank you, Hasegawa). When I list them like this, it sounds like I only made scale models (accurately reduced models of real things, like 1/35, 1/72, or 1/700), but I actually started with Gunpla, and I made a lot of those too. I vaguely remember the festive atmosphere when Gunpla was first released. I was too young to have gotten one myself, but I feel like I saw piles of First Gundam models stacked up in front of the local model shop, with kids flocking around them.
Also, I found it interesting to build things like the Space Shuttle. There were familiar things that were not easily turned into models, and those were particularly appealing. There was a model of a deco truck that I was a bit drawn to, but ultimately I never got it. I also never managed to get around to building models of stalls or castles.
A few years ago, Bandai released a scale model of the Deep Sea Research Vessel "Chikyu", and I almost impulsively bought it, but I managed to hold back. I wonder if it's the type that can be assembled without glue; the molds look quite soft in the photos, but fitting a ton of parts together seems puzzle-like and fun. Serious ship models are a different world, so I'll save that topic for another time.
Well, what I was doing back then was just child’s play, so I don't think I was making them very well, but I believe I naturally acquired a feel for form and structure through model making. Also, the basic skills for crafting.
At that time, there was a publication from Tamiya called "Verlinden's Scene Works," which I looked at until it was worn out. I was always in awe of how the soldier models that came with 1/35 scale tank kits were vividly recreated in the scene works, like a scene from a drama, and I longed to know the magical skills of this Verlinden person. I was also captivated by the photos of his workspace, where parts and tools were neatly arranged. Back then, there were quite a few small model shops in town, and usually, the shop windows displayed models that the shop owner had made. Some were quite well done, but Verlinden's scene photos looked like they were from another dimension.
The Tamiya news I received from the model shop was also something that piqued my interest in modeling, and I often found myself gazing at it. It was around that time that I came across a photo of a work by Akira Toriyama when he won the gold prize at a model contest. (Hi-Yo! Silver! If you search for Akira Toriyama images, you can see them right away now.) For me, Akira Toriyama was more of a poor soul destined to keep drawing manga when he really wanted to spend all day building models, rather than just the creator of Dragon Ball or Dr. Slump. (I don't really know what the truth was.)
This was long before the internet appeared, so the information I had came from books, pamphlets, flyers, and also from the storefronts of model shops, conversations with shop owners, and rumors from classmates who weren't very close but had relatives who liked models. Since it was all based on encounters, information didn't really increase much. I read the magazines and catalogs I had thoroughly. I looked at them so many times that I still remember quite a bit about the scenes that were published. (The books themselves have gone somewhere due to moving and such.) When I build models, I become completely unable to do anything else, and I also feel a bit guilty about it, so as I grew older, I tried to keep my distance from models and modeling as much as possible. However, there are times when the urge to model hits me like a sudden attack, and during those times, I usually find myself browsing model magazines in the bookstore or occasionally gazing at the piles of model boxes and crafting materials in the toy section of an electronics retail store every few years. Recently, probably as a theft prevention measure, model boxes have been wrapped in plastic like manga in bookstores, making it impossible to see inside. As a viewer-only modeler, just seeing the pile of parts attached to the runners slightly alleviates my withdrawal symptoms, so I feel a bit frustrated with the current situation where that isn't possible.
That's why it's really helpful that images of models and diorama works are circulating on Instagram and Pinterest.
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By the way, isn't there too much railway model footage? (It's only because I followed railway model enthusiasts first, though.)
I had heard that American model train enthusiasts prefer to lay out complex tracks over a large area (including gardens) and run model trains rather than just building models. Looking at Instagram, I often find this to be true. Anyway, the houses are spacious, and there are powerful diesel locomotives and long freight trains, like those in O gauge or HO gauge, recreated in large sizes, running across the continent. They show videos of these trains passing through bridges or emerging from tunnels, sometimes with 20 or 30 cars, or even more! The flashy colors of American locomotives evoke the blazing sun and dusty, dry earth, and the large models are detailed enough to withstand close-ups, allowing you to fully enjoy them just by watching the videos. There are even videos of multiple long trains running and passing each other. This is thrilling. I mean, how many freight cars do they have? Well, there's no point in being envious, so I’ll just express my genuine gratitude for the stunning visuals they share.
Speaking of model trains, Hideaki Anno set up G gauge tracks (which are even larger than O gauge) in the studio for his live-action film "Love & Pop." He placed a video camera on the model train, making it pass under the legs of actors in uniforms. I wonder if that symbolizes the girls as monsters. When I watched "Love & Pop" in real-time, it was around the time when consumer video cameras (DV cameras) were improving, becoming good enough for professional use and production. I was mostly focused on how having a smaller camera allows for various creative approaches, but it was also the first time I heard the devil's whisper in my heart saying, "It's nice to fulfill your hobby while making a movie."
Last year, when I was on a business trip to Aomori, I visited the Aomori Prefectural Museum of Art, and I happened to catch the Hideaki Anno exhibition. Among the displays was a recreation model of Village 3, which had been prominently featured in the making of "Shin Evangelion:||." While the exhibition in Tokyo was reportedly crowded, in Aomori, I could view it leisurely (in fact, when I was looking at the Village 3 model, it was almost like a private viewing!). I was able to take photos from various angles, but I regretted not bringing a camera with interchangeable lenses. I don't know how much that model was utilized in the film's storytelling, but perhaps creating a model of that scale is a way to share a space that exists only in the director's imagination with the staff, discussing where to shoot from. Isn't that mostly a hobby? It's like a super-sized version of creating a model train layout, right? I think they could just draw it since there are no limitations in the visuals, but when someone seriously says, "I want the staff to discover compositions beyond my own," I can understand that reasoning. If that means we get to see this model, then as a fan, I'm all for it. Speaking of which, Hayao Miyazaki also had models made for "Howl's Moving Castle," and I feel like he had a model of the seaplane from "Porco Rosso" made as well. The seaplane might have been part of a fan project from a model magazine that published the original work. Sorry for the vague memory; it's based on what I skimmed through.
Since I've digressed, I'll continue talking about model trains next time.
Harada