The Weathered Effect

I've been working on some individual components for a project that requires a very old, weathered look, and thought you might be interested in how I'm doing it.  If you want to follow along, the materials you'll need are pretty simple and inexpensive.  An initial investment of less than 50.00 USD will last you for many, many projects to come.

1. A small stripping brush; this is the one I use.
2. India ink.
3. Acrylic craft paint.  In this project, I used two colors, both from the "Americana" line: cocoa, and dark chocolate.
4. Sanding sponges (medium and fine).
5. Water-based matte varnish.

This is one of many different aging or weathering techniques you can use.  I like this process, and these materials, because they're very adaptable.  So what you want to do is...

1. Paint your entire item with the base coat (in this case, slightly diluted "cocoa").
2. Apply two coats of water-based matte varnish, allowing ample drying time in between.
3. Sand your item until it's smooth, allowing for lighter areas to appear naturally.  This process will begin to simulate the natural aging and weathering process: the sticky-outy areas get the most abuse.  Ideally, your item should be very smooth to the touch before you begin using advanced weathering techniques.
4. Now, go to town on your item with your stripping brush.  Depending on the final effect I'm trying to achieve, I often repeat this process several times as I apply new washes.  The more care you take with this step, the more depth you'll achieve.

This is the finished door, on the exterior side.

This is the finished door on the interior side.  As always, you can click on the picture to see a larger version.  The first thing to keep in mind--obvious as it is--is that different areas of a door (or anything else) weather differently.  The principal reason so many "weathered" miniatures look unrealistic is that weathering has been very uniformly--and thus unrealistically--applied.  Before you start, think about where, in real life, your item would be weathered.  Here, both sides of my door are very aged, but the exterior side has obviously been exposed to the elements to a much greater extent.

The first step is to cover your item with a wash of your darker colored paint.  I like to apply my wash in small areas and wipe it off.  To make the inset panels stand out, I painted them with only very slightly diluted "dark chocolate".  I also painted the sides of the panel frames.

The next step is to apply a wash of India ink.  I usually add two drops of ink to every inch of water in my mixing cup, but you can play around with your own mixture.  I paint the ink wash on, and immediately rub it off.  The idea, here, is that the ink wash settles in the cracks.

I only added an ink wash to the exterior side of the door, which is why it's so much darker.  I wanted to differentiate between inside and outside.

I achieved this effect by alternating washes, sanding slightly in between and using my wire brush several times.

Cracks and dings add interest.  I also wanted the kick board area to look really gross.  This is a well-used door!

The threshold is very worn, also.  I sanded it down quite a bit, so the curve (from thousands of footfalls) is quite obvious.  Here, I added a stronger ink wash to simulate really ground in dirt.

Not exactly a candidate for Good Housekeeping!

Are there any weathering techniques you especially like?

I Seem To Be...

I seem to be collecting quite a bit of furniture for a house I currently don't possess: a mid-1800's American farmhouse.  This last Sunday, my long-suffering husband and I visited the Handcrafters of Miniatures show in Dedham.  It was really fabulous.  These are smaller shows (there's one in March and one in November), but entirely worth the drive.  Indeed, some of my favorite artisans, including Bubba's Mini Country Cupboards and Marquis Miniatures make the trek.  Indeed, Barbara ("Bubba" herself) has been so kind as to supply me with several pieces for my as-yet nonexistent house.  Marquis Miniatures is a newer favorite, but Jill, the principal artisan behind the magic, does some truly fabulous work.

Like Barbara's, her work is largely geared toward the country house.

Perhaps this is telling me something.

I'd like to show you some of my pieces in situ, but, so far, there's no situs.  I've yet to find a farmhouse kit I really like.  Now, I'm certainly not opposed to designing my own, but, logistically, it's a huge problem to get the requisite pieces cut out.  Nobody does custom fabrication around here, on any scale.  So I'm probably looking for a kit-bash.

It's sort of a departure from my usual, but hey, it's nice to have a new project looming on the horizon...

My biggest issues with what's available are...

1. Authenticity.  I'm looking for the kind of long narrow farmhouse that still covers northern New England.  Most so-called "farmhouses" are Victorian "farmhouse style" houses.
2. Scale.  They're too square, too squat, and the ceilings are too low for the style of house.  Room height and size of room go hand in hand; 7' ceilings are really only appropriate in an early Colonial house.  Not to mention, a real farmer's porch is more than 3' deep.
3. Layout.  Farmhouses didn't have small kitchens.  They did have entryways.  They did usually have sitting rooms, which doubled as work rooms, as well as formal front parlors for guests.

If anyone has any suggestions, let me know!

A Little Piece Of The Magic

I forget if I mentioned before, but I'm making a roombox for my husband. 

Although I'm making most of its components myself, a few will be contributed by other artisans.  The first, and in my opinion, most delightful of those components arrived yesterday.  Although I can't afford De Cave Designs' magical bookseller's shop, I can bring home a little piece of the magic in the form of a Louis XIV bookseller's table.  This sort of makes the room, with nothing else in it, doesn't it?

The room itself, architecturally, is Dutch, but we'll be filling it with an eclectic mix of French and American (and a few British!) pieces.

Doesn't it look great?

If you'd designed it for this space, it couldn't fit in better.

The finish on the table itself is really lovely.  I adore the burl effect.  The books themselves, too, are utterly charming.

One last look...

Progress Update: Tudor Bakery

I've been splitting my mini time between the Tudor Bakery, Patisserie 841, and my "Mystery Project" for the Creatin' Contest.  Since I've started working on the Tudor Bakery, my ultimate vision has gone through a couple of revisions.  It's actually a little more complicated now than it was.  One of the reasons this has taken so long is, I've rejected a couple of ideas.  I've been trying out a lot of new techniques, lately, and some of them are more labor intensive than others!

I like to cut my trim in stages.  I discovered, the hard way, that if you cut everything at once nothing will fit.  It's not an issue of precision, but, rather, of those few millimeters (and half millimeters) that paint, varnish, sanding, and even swelling and shrinkage can add and subtract.  Here, I'm dry fitting the trim.

Here, I'm gluing the mezzanine level in place.

The panels that fit between the beams are removable; eventually, they'll feature a raised plaster design.

A close-up of the panels, and the hip wall trim.

The casing of this window is done, although the actual window has yet to appear.  I'll be making a diamond paned glass panel using strips of lead golf tape.  This technique is a little intimidating, but the wonderful results you can achieve make all the effort totally worth it (I think).

I think cracks, worn areas, etc add interest.

Here's another view of the casement.

Here's yet another view of the casement.  It's not installed yet, it's just dry fitted into place.  I won't be fixing it into place until I've finished making it.

Here, I'm beginning to stain the mezzanine level.

I've been using the spare paint I have left over from staining the trim to slowly conquer some of this half timbering.

And here's an overview of the total project.

How To Make A Really Good Dollhouse Floor

The woodwork can make or break a dollhouse.  It's the things we don't really think about, or notice--floors, columns, door frames, etc--that give it that "real house" feel.  They're the canvas on which we "paint" the rest of the scene.  Unfortunately, they're also the parts we tend to want to rush through--at least, I do.  I've developed the techniques I use through years of trial and error, and the (repeated) experience of being really unhappy with my results.  I tend to slap on a coat or two of stain, a coat or two of varnish, and throw in a few passes with a sanding sponge.  If it's smooth and pretty looking, I conclude I'm done...and then I look at the final product and wonder what went wrong.

This dissatisfaction has led me to developing a few new techniques, which I'll share with you.

You'll need:

1. 3 colors of water based acrylic craft paint.  If you want to replicate the exact look I've created here, use "Americana" brand paint in Dark Chocolate, Lamp (Ebony) Black, and Honey Brown.  Dark Chocolate forms the base color, Lamp Black the lowlights, and Honey Brown--which is really more of a light mustard--forms the highlights.
2. A soft brush for brushing away excess dust; I use a 1" or 2" soft bristled trim brush.
3. Sanding sponges.  I like 3M brand sanding sponges in "medium" grit.  Keep in mind, you want a rougher surface, to really scratch up the floor.
4. An x-acto knife.
5. "Roughing" tools.  I like small stripping brushes, which are available at Home Depot.  You can also use one of the wire brushes that comes in a standard golf kit.  They're very cheap, and a great tool to have on hand.

This is the Tudor Bakery floor, only there's no floor yet.

I like to apply my wallpaper before I lay my floor, but everyone's different.

Here, I'm using 1" pine strips.  They have a very interesting grain, which I like.  But, you can use any thin strip.  I'd stay away from lime (basswood), if at all possible, only because it's very soft and can dent. Lime is more suitable for columns, trim, etc, because these are lower-wear surfaces.

I like to dry-fit the entire floor before I start gluing anything down.  This way, I can get a sense of how everything fits together, and what the trouble spots are.  Sometimes, no matter how careful you are, your room ends up a few degrees off square.  Even one degree can make a big difference, and if you dry fit your floor, it's easier to figure out how to compensate for any problems--and make it as non-obvious as possible.

Make sure everything lines up as exactly as possible along the front.

Here, I'm working around the chimney column.  Once I cut all the boards, I glued them down in sections using Quick Grip.  Silicone-based adhesives work best, as they tend to cause the least warp.  Water-based glues (like craft glue) tend to produce a lot of warp.  Even so, make sure you glue the boards down in small batches (no more than 3 or 4 strips at a time), and weight them down while drying (for at least 20 minutes) to prevent warp.

The hole in the center is for tiles, which I'll install later.  Once everything's dry, paint the floor with diluted Dark Chocolate (or whatever your base color is) paint.  I tend not to sand beforehand, as there's little point; the moisture in the paint raises the grain.  I wanted a very deep color brown, so I applied two coats of paint, and then sanded with my sanding sponge.

Here's a close-up of the floor, after it's been sanded.  If you really want the grain to stand out, you can put a coat of water-based matte varnish on between coats of paint.  Make sure you sand the varnish well, before you put on a second coat of paint!

Here's the floor.  So far, I've put on one coat of paint, a coat of varnish, sanded, put on another coat of paint, and another coat of varnish, and sanded.  Don't be afraid to go nuts with the sanding sponge.

Now it's time for the fun part.  I used my tools to rough up the floor.  Whenever you think you've done enough, don't be afraid to do a little more!

See all that dust?  This is where a brush comes in handy!  You want all this gunk gone before you start aging the surface with paint.

A close-up of the floor.  Those scores and scratches were created by my x-acto blade, and my stripping brush.  I created lighter spots with my sanding sponge, by sanding some areas slightly more thoroughly than others.

Now, I'm ready to start aging with paint!

I diluted my darkest color (Lamp Black), and began working it in to the corners, and the centers of the boards.  I made a particular effort to work the color into the deeper knife scores I'd made.  Only place lowlights where it makes sense: in corners, dark crevasses, etc.

A close-up of the lowlights.  The key to success, with this effect, is subtlety.  You don't want to end up with tiger stripes!  "Barely there" is where it's at.

Here, I've completed the lowlights.

Here's a close-up of the lowlights.

Now, it's time for the highlights.  I made a wash of Honey Brown and water, mixing in just enough paint so that my mixture was watery, but still opaque.  Then, I painted it on, let it sit for a minute, and rubbed it off.  So I could keep the overall effect even, I applied the wash in sections.  I didn't want the paint drying before I had a chance to rub it off.

Here's a close-up of the finished floor.  It's a very subtle effect.  I like the mixture of the Dark Chocolate and the Honey Brown, because it gives a very rich, warm effect.  A lot of paints called "Burnt Umber", and other paints in that general range, are very ashy looking when dry.  Likewise, a lot of lighter value paints end up looking bright orange.

One final close-up.

So what do you think?  Any floor (or other woodwork) finishing techniques you'd like to share?

Michael Mortimer, And A Quick Editorial Note

I love all things medieval and tudor, and I have a small but growing collection of work by one of the titans in that field, Michael Mortimer.  Honestly, Mr. Mortimer's stuff has to be seen, up close and personal, to be believed.  A lot of dollhouse furniture has character, and a lot of dollhouse furniture showcases skill.  It's very rare to find a piece that exemplifies both qualities.  Mr. Mortimer's work is some of my favorite; I purchased these pieces from Miniature Scene, York, one of the nicest dollhouse shops around.

I'm actually in the process of collecting furniture for a larger tudor house that I haven't built yet.  I'm also in the process of designing fireplace surrounds, etc.  Once I have a good collection of items, I'll design and build a suitable house around them.  Although my heart lies with smaller scenes, and roomboxes, I do lust after the occasional grander scale home.  I'll keep you updated on my progress!

This cupboard bed is based on a real piece of furniture.

I'm currently hunting for suitable fabric to make a curtain.

The level of detail in Mr. Mortimer's pieces has to be seen to be believed.

A privy!

The concept of privacy (as we know it) was brand new in tudor times.  The first "modern" privy was, essentially, invented by a Frenchman who insisted that his servants carry a green silk tent around with them; he would have it erected over his portable privy, to give himself some respite.  He was considered quite missish.  Many medieval privies were simply niches set into walls, with the necessary equipment--and thus he who used it--out there for all to see.

These are just wonderful hinges.

A bathtub.

Time for the weekly bath, eh?

Finally, a note on historical accuracy: one of my readers emailed me, concerned that I was misrepresenting my work as historically accurate.  Specifically, I used the term "historically accurate" in the title of my last tutorial.  Am I, in fact, misleading you, my readership, as to what is, and is not, correct?

Well, I certainly hope not.  As I've said before, while I'm certainly inspired by medieval and tudor--as well as American colonial, and other--influences, my work belongs to, primarily, the realm of fantasy.  Minis are, for me as, I imagine, for others, an escape from reality--a chance to create my own little world.  I've been making and collecting minis since I was seven, but my first serious foray into the world of "adult" miniatures was during my teenage years.  I absolutely fell in love with an historic home in my home town.  I couldn't live there, so, as they say, I brought the mountain to Mohammed.  I endeavored to recreate my favorite place in miniature.  And, well, I've been at it ever since.

These days, the "favorite place" I create is one of simplicity, tranquility, and wonder.  I'm most inspired by the elusive realm of fantasy, for what the very concept of fantasy represents in my own life--in all our lives.  It's nice to remember, once in awhile, that dreams are possible--and our efforts are sufficient to realize them.

No, I'm not building museum models; my work isn't mean to be a history lesson.  No, the thatched roof tutorial doesn't represent how a thatched roof was actually made.  Nobody really used fur, or Quick Grip, or varnish.  My goal wasn't to give you a history lesson, but to help you create something that, when done, would look good.

Real medieval and tudor houses weren't made out of plywood, or MDF, either; nobody used craft glue.  Landscape elements weren't made out of styrofoam and Woodland Scenics products.  Moreover, medieval England wasn't coursing with wizards.  Sadly, these things exist only in our heads--and insomuch as our hands can give them life.  I'm inclined, honestly, to believe there's enough "reality" in the world already.

I write this blog, and sell my miniatures, and contribute the occasional magazine tutorial, because I love all things mini, and want to share my joy with you.  And, truly, I feel very privileged for the opportunity to do so.  I hope you enjoy minis--in all their many multitudes of forms--as much as I do.

The Most Amazing Thing I've Seen

Every once in awhile, you come across a piece that, as they say, sets the gold standard.  I've seen a handful in my time, but, unfortunately, mostly before I started writing this blog.  I wish that, now, looking back on it, I'd chronicled those experiences better.  As a miniaturist, of course, I have a professional interest in my fellow miniaturists' work...but, really, who am I kidding?  When I see something really incredible, something that utterly engages my imagination, I really just want to play with it.  Every time I see a truly beautiful miniature, I feel the same sense of wonder I did when I got my first dollhouse at age six.

Case in point: DeCave Designs' Windsor Antiques and Rare Book Shop.  This is, quite simply, the best roombox I've ever seen.  I could move right in!