Last time, we discussed whether realism in modeling is a kind of deformation, but for those who create models, this might just be an "obvious" point. The decision of how detailed to make something is closely tied to the idea of not going any further (or being unable to). There is always a judgment involved, which I believe is part of the sense of modeling. The phrase "enhancing details for atmosphere" is also commonly seen. Rather than focusing on accuracy, it seems more about adding details that emphasize the overall atmosphere. This is also about skillfully lying to create a sense of reality, which might be a thought process similar to that of artists.
Now, the larger the structure you choose to model, the greater the scale-down range, making the decision of "how detailed to make it" even more crucial.
For example, in the case of typical car models, you have scales like 1/24 or 1/48, for tanks it's 1/35 or 1/72, and for airplanes, it ranges from 1/24 to 1/72. When you think about it, a scale of 1/150 for N gauge trains is quite small.
However, for ships, the scale can get even smaller. If you were to create a model of a 350m long ship at a scale of 1/24, it would end up being 14.3m long, which is about the size of a small boat. That’s quite impractical, so the mainstream for ship models seems to be around 1/700 or 1/350. At 1/350, a 350m ship becomes a 1m model. This is a bit large for home display, but it looks impressive. At 1/700, it finally reaches about 50cm. This seems more realistic.
By the way, the largest aircraft carrier in the U.S. is about 330m, and the world's largest tanker is around 460m, so if these are the maximum values, other ships are naturally smaller. At a scale of 1/700, they would generally be within 50cm in size. Therefore, in ship modeling, multiple manufacturers have come to an agreement to produce many kits at "let's make them at 1/700" scale. (The Waterline Series, which focuses on the above-water parts of the ship, is an example.)
So, what does 1/700 scale look like? It’s like a person who is 180cm tall being reduced to about 2.5mm in height. Small. Small, but not so small that it’s invisible. At 1/350, it would be 5mm, which would make the person the size of a grain of rice. At that size, you might start to see some details of the person. The reason I’m obsessively discussing these sizes is to set the stage for later discussions about enhancing details in ship models, so please bear with me.
As a child, I made a lot of ship models. The ones I made the most were 1/700 scale warships, mostly from the old Imperial Navy. At that time, modern ship kits were not very common, and the old military ships were the mainstream. (The compatibility of plastic models with military items from the old empire, or the relationship between nationalism education, weapons, and models, will be discussed separately.)
Like many others, I made famous ships. Yamato, Akagi, and others like that. I also made Maya, which is named after a local mountain. (Maya is the cruiser that the father of the siblings in "Grave of the Fireflies" was said to be on, if I remember correctly. Hideaki Anno depicted it in too much detail, and Isao Takahata darkened it during filming.)
In terms of form, battleships with large cannons are easy for children to understand. As a child, I had already seen Space Battleship Yamato. The difficult part is with aircraft carriers, where the top of the ship is a flat flight deck. It supports everything below, but the structure can get confusing. I wonder what’s going on underneath that deck. The 1/700 scale plastic models don’t replicate the interior. While battleships are easy to understand in terms of cannons and smokestacks, I can’t quite imagine the size of the people moving around or where they are. I didn’t do the calculations about the size of people I mentioned earlier when I was a child.
So, while I had a vague understanding of the form, I honestly felt that the details were ambiguous.
However, after a long time away from model making, I started looking at model images on Instagram and was shocked. The kits I had made as a child looked completely different. They were incredibly detailed. It felt like the resolution had jumped dramatically, like switching from a CRT TV to a 4K or 8K monitor.
There must be some secret to this... but it’s no use being coy about it; yes, it’s the "handrails." The "handrails" are being replicated!
I rarely ride on ships, but I have been on a few. Naturally, there are handrails to prevent people from falling into the sea. In Top Gun, when Tom Cruise is looking out at the ocean and striking a pose, the presence of handrails makes it safe. Even when he dramatically throws Goose's dog tags into the sea, it’s fine because of the handrails. Without them, it would be a bit scary. Of course, warships have people on board, and they can’t just let people fall into the sea while moving, so they obviously have "handrails."
The importance of these handrails is not just for warships; they are everywhere in our daily lives, so just having handrails makes it possible to visualize human size.
The height of handrails is generally around 80cm to 100cm, and in some places, it might be around 120cm. If a person is 2.5mm tall, the handrails would be about 1mm to 1.5mm. Very fine. Very fine, but with this, it suddenly becomes clear that "there are people there." Areas with handrails are "places where people go." Of course, at about 1.5mm in size, I don’t think it’s a perfect representation of the real thing, but the installation locations are made based on reference materials, so you can think, "Oh, that was a passageway," or if there are three rows of passageways on the outer wall of the ship, you might think, "Ah, this part of the ship is about three stories high," or "This gangway is steep; it looks tough to climb." In any case, the story of real human beings overlaps with the ship model.
Enhancing the details of such models to improve their reproducibility is called detail-up, and a powerful aid to this enjoyment is "etching parts," which are components made of thin metal. Parts that are too small to be molded well in plastic tend to have less detail due to the nature of the material, but with metal, finer parts can be created. This is done using the etching technique. Etching is a method used to create electronic circuit boards, where the areas not coated on the metal surface are dissolved by acid, allowing for very fine work on the metal sheet. If you’ve seen an electronic circuit board, you can imagine the fine metal lines beautifully connecting many components, and that level of detail allows for the creation of handrails just a few millimeters in size. Etching parts for detail-up are sold, of course. However, even though there are parts available, they are incredibly fine, and applying them to a small ship model based on reference materials is an incredibly meticulous task that not everyone can do. Among modelers, there are strong individuals who detail-up everything without using commercially available parts, and when you start watching the work videos published by these master modelers, you can be amazed at how quickly time flies. It’s quite troublesome.
So, the ship models that I found somewhat vague during my childhood have significantly increased in resolution in recent years. It might be better to say it's a sense of resolution when seeing things with the eyes. When the details are reproduced in the model, it feels like my visual resolution has improved. Of course, my eyesight hasn't changed, so this is just an illusion where the subject appears clearer, likely because the amount of visible information has increased relative to the size of the object. The illusion of seeing something clearly in the model is quite enjoyable, almost like spatial modulation.
A little while ago, there was a trend of "live-action that looks like a model," which might be based on a similar principle. When you take a photo of a real scene with an extremely shallow depth of field, the foreground and background become blurred, making it look like you've photographed a miniature model. When you capture an entire city block from the air, it feels like you're looking at an intricate diorama. Since the subject is real, it naturally captures details well, resulting in an overwhelming amount of information. Cognitively, even though you think you're looking at a miniature, the amount of information is so high that it feels like you're observing an incredibly detailed miniature.
As a side note, I had the same sensation when I visited the Tokyo Skytree. The Skytree is a tower with an exposed truss structure, and when you look up at it from below, it feels like your eyesight has improved a bit. I think it's because the actual Skytree is larger than the size you would imagine based on common truss structures, creating an illusion that you can see the details. This is a cognitive issue, and I believe it happens because a certain "common sense" has developed regarding the size of other truss structures. So, I can't say everyone experiences this, but I think there are hints in the relationship between "precision" and "resolution" that can help in creating a sense of intricacy.
Another topic that connects to the previous discussion is the expression of "water."
Ships obviously float on the sea or a lake. For submarines, it's underwater. While it's fine for a standalone model, what about the "scenes" using ship models? The challenge was how well to reproduce "water," "water surface," and "waves" in the model.
What I saw as a child were generally models where plaster was poured and set, or where paper clay was used to create wave crests, painted, and finished with a transparent acrylic surface. Of course, there are still works that achieve incredible water surface expressions using such techniques. However, the emergence of underwater models using highly transparent resin is something new. Even in reproducing the shoreline, the transparency of the water surface is difficult to achieve without resin. (I've seen examples where a transparent plastic sheet was applied to the surface. I thought that was quite a high level of difficulty for a child.) Since ship models were typically displayed on a stand, it's very exciting to see the range of scene expressions expand.
Now, while I've primarily discussed "plastic models" in ship modeling, I can't help but think that the pinnacle of ship models might actually be wooden sailing ship models. This is a world I have never stepped into, but it is increasingly fascinating, so next time, I would like to discuss that topic and explore why, due to steam engines and the Royal Navy of the British Empire, the British might prefer model trains and ship models. Let's save the topic of imperialism and models for later.
Harada