Making Models and Props (part 1)
During my boyhood, my favorite hobby was building plastic model kits of monsters, heroes, animals, cars, scientific replicas, spaceships, and occasionally airplanes. Many of my skills came from that disciplined pastime of working patiently with paints and glues, cutting with blades, and filling and sanding seams to achieve the goal of creating a perfect miniature. Assembling these models gave me an intimate understanding of how things are constructed and how they function in the real world - everything from human anatomy to automobile engines. I was well-served by those skills when I later began creating my own independent stop-motion films and eventually worked professionally as a model maker and prop builder for the motion picture and advertising industries.
My first real model-making gig was a job at Introvision in 1985, where I worked on a pilot project called Danger Quest under the supervision of Gene Rizzardi. In collaboration with model maker Zuzana Swansea, I was tasked with fabricating a mountain wall landscape featuring a cave-like entrance. Our technique involved carving the basic shapes out of styrofoam and then etching the foam by squirting it with acetone to create a lunar rock appearance. The acetone/foam reaction released toxic gases, requiring us to wear protective garments and respirators. From the start, I experienced some of the potential hazards of professional model making! Other model makers built the cool robot guards, which were added to the scene after we completed the miniature background set. Once the camera crew had lit the setup on stage, I was able to photograph the full scene in 3-D for my personal collection.
Later, I worked on the Danger Quest alien city, primarily adding detail to large surfaces to create visual interest. These detail parts, affectionately known as "nurnies" and "greebles" in the industry, can be made of almost anything with the appropriate scale and shape; however, model kit parts were their most common source. This photo was shot by the Introvision camera crew. Note the atmospheric effect. In miniature photography, it was common to use smoke, usually beekeeper's smoke, in an enclosed stage to provide a sense of depth and scale.
This alien spaceship interior was created at Introvision for The Greatest American Heroine, a 1986 superhero TV special. I was a member of a small team that fabricated the model under the direction of production designer Anton Tremblay. Anton's approach emphasized clean shape and form - no greebles on this spaceship! The primary materials used were sheet plastic and masonite over wood framing, and the interior featured many motorized moving parts. The circular ceiling unit was designed to spin, and the command center chairs could slide along a track. Many other components were also operational. The Earth and Moon were projected from behind the windows. The film's actors were ultimately composited into the scene using Introvision's front projection system.
In 1986, I worked on several projects, including this robot, at the model and prop company Cinnabar (to their credit, Cinnabar is still in business today). We started with a toy radio-controlled robot and essentially covered it with custom components to give it a unique new look. After all these years, I cannot remember what it was made for or who the client was.
The biggest project I worked on at Cinnabar was an architectural model for the feature film Batteries Not Included. The film's story centered on an apartment building under threat from a large property development. This model was to be shown in the offices of the "evil" developers to illustrate their dastardly plans. Paul Bivens and I completed the majority of the construction along with our supervisor, Mimi (I can't remember her last name). The buildings were made of plexiglass, which was challenging to work with because all of the seams had to be perfect; no gaps or cracks could be filled, and no paint was allowed. It was interesting to create a model that was represented as an actual model in the movie, particularly since miniatures are generally created to represent real full-size objects.







































