This is a continuation of the discussion about model trains.
Last time, we mainly talked about larger scale models like HO gauge, O gauge, and even G gauge (which I first learned about from Anno's article), because the videos of model trains that flow through Instagram are mostly from American model train fans, and they all revolve around larger scale models.
Personally, I wasn't particularly drawn to larger scale models.
The Astonishing Precision of Märklin's Z Gauge Steam Locomotive
The first model train I ever saw in person wasn't an HO gauge or O gauge, nor was it the standard N gauge in Japan, but rather a steam locomotive from Märklin, a long-established German model train manufacturer, in Z gauge. It was astonishingly small and intricate. Märklin's model trains make extensive use of metal cast parts. N gauge tends to have a strong plastic feel (which might just be my impression, sorry), but this has a different direction. Although the size is extremely small, it somehow conveys a sense of precision. I also had the impression that the printing on the model's surface was very beautiful. The small steam locomotive featured in the YouTube video above is about 3 to 4 centimeters long, with detailed reproductions of the piping on the sides of the body, creating a pleasing density. The weight of the metal cast parts and their cool touch made me want to hold it and look at it forever. I was really enamored.
The problem is the high price. I think the concept is that because the size is small, you can design tracks in a large layout even in a small area and create long trains! However, Märklin is a German manufacturer and an imported product, making it something that children can't easily afford. The dream of creating long trains remains just that—a dream, and thus begins the days of "continuing to look at the catalog" once again.
That said, Märklin's catalog was beautiful. The products included European steam locomotives and mountain railways that I was not used to seeing, as well as diesel trains I had never seen before, all with attractive shapes and colors. The layouts depicted European streets or the Alpine mountain regions, greatly stimulating the imagination. Additionally, I have a deep impression of abstract models, such as a completely white scenic model that expressed hilly terrain with neatly cut white boards stacked along contour lines. It was surprising to see that such expressions are possible. In a scene depicting a mountain bridge and the stream flowing below, they seriously represented water, and I was amazed that such realism could be achieved in a model. Of course, looking back now, the representation of "water" in models at that time likely had material limitations and was quite immature compared to today, but I feel like there were photos that successfully depicted a transparent and realistic water surface compared to the "water surface" made with paper clay and painted.
While there is that charm of scenic models, I was still drawn to the precision of the locomotives and cars.
At home, I have a few issues of a niche magazine called "Model Train Hobby," which contains plenty of articles about the production of passenger cars from the National Railways from various years, detailing how to construct the body using layers of cardboard, bend brass wire to make handrails, and modify ready-made parts for the bogies. I feel like those articles even included diagrams and templates for parts (similar to craft magazines?). The photos in those articles were incredibly cool, and the examples were reproduced in astonishing detail, resembling crafts. For me, model trains were like miraculous masterpieces handcrafted by skilled modelers.
While searching, I found a craftsman who perfectly embodies this! So, I’m sharing it here.
This person is creating at a scale of 1:45, which is roughly O gauge. To create with such precision, a certain physical size is necessary. It seems that this relatively robust size is indeed the star of model trains. In fact, Märklin also appears to have a mainstream lineup of larger scales like O gauge and HO gauge.
On the opposite end is Z gauge, which is just incredibly small.
Model trains are sized based on the width of the rails (gauge). To summarize the various gauges (the width of the tracks), O gauge is 32mm, HO is 16mm, N gauge is 9mm, and Z gauge is 6.5mm. The width of the vehicles is slightly wider than the track width, so it's just under 1 centimeter. Because of that size, there are physical limitations to what can be expressed. The model representation must significantly reduce the amount of information. The craftsman mentioned above also said that’s why they work at a scale of 1:45. Therefore, Z gauge, with its 6.5mm gauge, is quite limited in expression. Nevertheless, Märklin's Z gauge gives an incredibly precise impression.
The treatment of edges, the construction of key areas (handrails, rivets, pipes), and the expression of colors and text. Attention to those details and careful decisions about what information to omit. Rather than aiming for "complete reproduction," it conveys a sense that allows the viewer to "imagine" and communicates the "impression" when seen. Models that achieve this balance make me feel happy just by looking at them.
What Does "Precision" Mean in Model Trains?
What does "precision" mean in models, to begin with? What must be expressed for it to feel "precise"? Is it precise if it copies the real thing? Since it is impossible to completely copy the real thing in a strict sense, models are always forced to make choices about information when reproducing the real thing at a smaller scale. The degree of reproduction creates variations in information density. When you get close to a model and examine the details, the surprise of "Wow, they reproduced it to this extent!" is the essence of precision models. On the other hand, when you step back and look at the whole, whether the variations in information density are close to the impression of seeing the real thing (or its photo) seems very important. Rather than meticulously crafting every detail, it’s about getting that impression of density closer. This applies to form as well; even if you scale down exactly according to the blueprint, it doesn’t guarantee that the visual impression will be the same. While fundamentally aiming to be as faithful to the real thing as possible, adjustments are necessary to bring the "impression" closer at that scale, which likely influences the quality of the model. The root of reality in models seems to lie in this area.
I feel like the same can be said for other expressions as well. Just because something is meticulously drawn doesn't mean it automatically becomes realistic. There are artworks that are very simplified yet still convincing, and there are also pieces that are heavily detailed but lack a sense of reality. Hayao Miyazaki, who is famous among military enthusiasts, featured many drawings of old weapons in his series "Miyazaki Hayao's Random Notes" published in Monthly Model Graphics. Each of these drawings has a certain degree of deformation, and while they are densely detailed, it seems more about expressing the "impression" that Miyazaki received from each weapon rather than aiming for precision like a scale model. Of course, this is already a different discussion from the precision of scale models, but even models that appear to be made "just like the real thing" are likely expressions composed of a certain aesthetic of simplification and deformation.
Perhaps that's why things that everyone has a strong impression of become difficult to reproduce. In an interview during the production of the film "The Wind Rises," Miyazaki mentioned something like, "The Zero Fighter is the only one that's difficult." (I think... but I might be misremembering...) I recall that the context was more about the delicate aesthetics, but I imagined that many people have seen the Zero Fighter in various photos and creative works, each with their own strong impressions, which makes it hard to depict it in a way that satisfies everyone. Or perhaps the impression that Miyazaki, who was also the son of an aircraft manufacturer, has of the Zero Fighter differs slightly from the general public's perception. Personally, I felt that the Zero Fighter in "The Wind Rises" looked a bit too sleek and delicate, and didn't quite resemble a Zero Fighter.
I think pursuing this kind of understanding is always very challenging. While thinking about such things, I find myself watching model videos again as a form of escapism.
As a side note, since the topic of water representation in diorama models came up, I remembered an artist named Ryusuke Fukahori.
I think he is quite a popular artist, as he pours transparent resin into bowls and paints the parts of goldfish that are closest to the bottom of the water, then pours more resin and paints the parts of the goldfish that are closer to the surface, repeating this process to create artworks that look as if real goldfish are swimming underwater. Although he paints in two dimensions, the finished product appears three-dimensional, which is sometimes referred to as 2.5D. Looking at his works, it's clear that the introduction of highly transparent resin has greatly expanded the possibilities for water representation in sculpture. Recent water representations in diorama models generally use similar techniques, pouring and solidifying transparent resin into the base of the scene. Naturally, they can express underwater scenes, and for the foamy waves on the surface, they apply white paint and use wind pressure to stretch the paint, achieving delicate evolution, which again captivates me as I watch the process videos.
Harada