Why Do We Paint?

When you come to think about it, painting miniatures could very well be the oddest part of this entire hobby, particularly in this day and age of pre-painted miniatures and professional painting services. Why spend countless eye-straining hours laboring over tiny figures long into the night? Even if you are lucky enough to get in multiple games a week, it's likely that you'll never spend as much time playing as you do painting. And then there's all the additional cost (both time and money) involved in gaining proficiency in painting itself!

And yet most of us persevere. Why?

My answer: self-expression.

We want to feel like our miniatures reflect a bit of our own creative vision. In fantasy wargaming (and the more obscure historical genres), this includes things like choosing uniform colors and other details of the figures' appearance, but even in your more rigidly-proscribed historical genres like Napoleonics or WWII, there's often room for more than a bit of creative flourish amongst the uniform plates and camo swatches.

And then there's your own personal style. Everyone has one, even if it's subtle. To my mind, there is no point in painting miniatures yourself if the result isn't obviously your own "brand" of painting, as it were. Yes, most of us watch tutorials and try to emulate a particular favored style. But if the end goal is to look just like a Kev Dallimore or Duncan Rhodes piece, I have to question why you would bother painting your own minis at all. Just find a professional painter who can ape your favored style and spend the money you would have otherwise on paints and painting supplies on commissions instead.

So that's all my subjective opinion, and YMMV and all that. Where I start to get a bit tetchy, as the Brits say, is when emulation of a particular style gets confused with being a "good" painter. It's all a bit Académie des Beaux-Arts, if you will.

A personal anecdote to illustrate my point:

I've been painting miniatures for literally 30 years at this point. I am happy with my level of painting proficiency, though I'm always pushing myself to try new techniques or up my skill level in this way or that. But, ultimately, I would call myself a "good" painter.

To that end, I have periodically engaged in painting miniatures for commission. I have never had an unhappy client, and have frequently had to turn down work because my queue got too full.

A few years ago, I was looking into taking my commission work to a more regular gig and so was looking to put my name out there. One of the bigger GW-adjacent wargaming YouTube channels at the time ran a painting service (they may still, for all I know) and had an offer for commission painters where, if you did some painting for them, they would advertise your services on their channel. I submitted a portfolio.

The response I got was one of the most condescending rejections I've ever received; it more or less said, "Hey, great effort buddy! Keep practicing and in a few years you might actually get good!"

At first, this really threw me for a loop, I have to say. But as I thought it over, I realized where they were coming from: I don't paint to GW standards. And in their world, painting to the GW standard is the sole marker for what constitutes "good" painting. How clean are those edge highlights? Tighten them up, or you'll never be a "good" painter! That kind of nonsense. After that insight, I had a good laugh and moved on.

But that insight has stuck with me ever since as illustrative of a much more pervasive attitude. And it's frankly bullshit. It's an attitude that turns the art of miniatures painting into a craft of paint-by-numbers.

Do your figures look badass on the table? Are you happy with them? Then you're a "good" painter. End of story.

Timely insights courtesy of @sonicsledge.

Yes, there are certain minimum technical bars we all should be clearing. There is, I believe, an objective definition of what constitutes a "bad" paint job. Beyond that, anything is fair game. Paint for yourself and your own enjoyment and satisfaction; nobody else's.

(Okay, you can also paint for the enjoyment of your gaming buddies who appreciate your efforts and ogle your figures when you put them on the table, but that's it!)

Identifying the Flat Note in WarmaHordes

I have an interestingly ambivalent relationship with Warmachine and Hordes. I first discovered the Iron Kingdoms back when it was a d20 RPG setting, and I've loved it ever since. There really aren't any missed notes in that world, and the art and graphic presentation of both the RPG and miniatures lines is always top notch.

So I was happy to take the plunge into the world of WarmaHordes back in spring of 2014. But almost immediately, I started to hear a dissonant note among the previously flawless symphony of awesome. (Yeah, how's that for a metaphor?)

And I've been trying to figure out where that flat note was coming from ever since.

I think I've got it now.

Here's the thing: I'm a "fluff" guy. I like crunch, sure, but I play miniatures games for the story as much for the challenge of trying to beat my opponent. I'm not a "scenario only" type of gamer, don't get me wrong, but I like a bit of context to my games. Lack of fluff is one of the primary reasons I stopped playing Armies of Arcana, for example. It's not enough for me to just have "Amazons versus Undead" or "Russians versus Germans".

Having said that, I realize that a lot of folks don't give two bits about a setting's fluff and are perfectly happy with generic match-ups. But what I'm primarily seeing when it comes to how WarmaHordes is represented online is an almost willful dismissal of the setting's fluff within the context of gameplay. Which is ironic, considering that the Iron Kingdoms is probably one of the most fluff-heavy games out there, perhaps even more so than 40K.

The realization struck me when I was watching the latest WarGamerGirl battle report. These reports are always top notch (I'm a Patreon backer, because I want to see more!), but I realized what's missing from them is any sort of fluff. Even though they inevitably use a scenario, we're not told what the scenario is about or how the forces on the table fit into the scenario.

In this latest report, we're told that they're using the scenario "Incoming" but, although the setup and victory conditions of the scenario are flashed up on the screen, we are not told what the scenario is meant to signify. What's "incoming," precisely? Is this, like, attacker versus defender, or a meeting engagement, or what? The victory conditions don't help, either. We get the usual "boxes" on the table, but are not told why it's important that the factions control those boxes. (I was also a little disappointed to note the appearance of flat paper terrain in this report.)

Now, it might seem like I'm picking on WarGamerGirl, but I'm only singling her out because she strikes me as being right in the mainstream of WarmaHordes players. The culture of the game seems to focus around abstract, crunch-focused considerations. The game itself encourages a rather unrealistic flow of action, with the two factions lining up opposite each other scrimmage-style in one big long line. The game's pixel-bitching focus on "WYSIWYG" line of sight rules, and the crucial importance of LoS in the game, makes terrain almost a hassle to deal with. I've seen other W/H players expressing their preference for flat paper terrain, since it makes it easier to judge issues of LoS and positioning.

What of it, then? That's the question. Does this crunch-focused culture that pervades the community, that indeed seems to be encouraged by the rules themselves, affect my own W/H gaming in any way? Well, yes and no.

Certainly, I'm free to play the game with however much fluff I wish to inject, as always. But it's undeniable that the greater culture surrounding a game influences how one experiences the game itself; one of the appeals of the "OldHammer" movement is that it's extremely DIY and fluff-focused, both causes near and dear to my heart.

(My introduction to battle reports came in the pages of White Dwarf back in the early 90s, and those reports always had lots of fun little fluffy details, including snippets of fiction based off events in the battle. That's still my idea of a perfect battle report.)

Furthermore, knowing that the seeming majority of W/H players subscribe to this more crunch-heavy approach means that I'm a lot less likely to try and look for pick-up games among my local gaming community. It all feels a bit alienating.

As I said at the top of this post, I still love the Iron Kingdoms setting a decade after my first exposure. And, having identified what's been bothering me about Warmachine/Hordes all this time, I can take appropriate steps to no longer be bothered by said things. But I kind of wish it didn't have to be this way to begin with. I wish the game was more in line with Malifaux, which does an excellent job of effortlessly generating "fluffy" details even through its own crunch. Or, dare I say it, that W/H would get the "Age of Sigmar" treatment...?

Some Thoughts on Basing

Last August, I wrote a bit about my grumpy-old-man syndrome regarding changing standards in what's considered "acceptable" basing techniques. Since then, if anything, I've gotten even grumpier about the topic.

This is largely due to me dipping a toe into a couple of the skirmish-scale fantasy games that are currently enjoying a wave of popularity, namely Warmachine/Hordes and Malifaux. Both games seem to exemplify the extremes of "diorama" basing that is so trendy these days.

Now, I certainly don't shy away from tarting up my bases a bit with some static grass and a flowering shrub or two, but some of the stuff I've seen (particularly for Malifaux) has been pretty extreme. I mean, when your base is as big as the figure that stands atop it...I'm just not sure what that's supposed to accomplish.

The thing is that, for me, I look at a wargaming miniature as a smaller component of an overall whole. All the miniatures on the table should, ideally, complement the scenic layout (and vice versa) such that, when you're looking at the whole panoply, it should seem almost like an organic diorama in its own right. I've made no bones in the past about my aesthetic snobbery when it comes to minis gaming, and this is simply part of that overall philosophy: that I play miniatures games as much for the visual appeal as for the tactical challenges it presents.

In fact, I really don't have any objective objections (heh) to overly-elaborate basing in its own right. If these fancy bases were simply being used to further a goal of painting one's miniatures purely as display pieces, then going nuts with the basing makes perfect sense. It's only once those same figures are placed on a gaming table that I cock a Spock-like eyebrow of judgment.

The thing to consider here is that my emphasis on aesthetics does sometimes border on the neurotic. As I wrote about in the above-linked post, I miss the days of simpler basing in part because today's standards add a lot more work per figure, and I'm lazy. But I'm also a bit down on today's more elaborate bases because - and I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit this - there's a part of me that inwardly winces when, say, a miniature with a classic "grassy turf" base moves into an area of the table with a noticeably different type of ground surface, like a watery marsh or cobblestone street.

Enter transparent plastic bases...

I've been particularly arrested by the increasingly frequent use of these guys as a method of basing. This seems to be the polar opposite of the elaborate base, both in terms of work and aesthetics: a base that you literally do nothing to other than affixing the figure, and a base that, by definition, matches whatever terrain the figure is standing on. Looking at those points, transparent bases would seem to be ideal for my tastes. Yet I don't want to abandon scenic bases entirely. They still have their place, aesthetically.

But I'm definitely going to base my Malifaux figures on clear bases as a sort of test case - see how they look in person, and how they look on the game table. Plus, and this is just the contrarian in me, I love the idea of going hyper-minimalist with figures for a game that features so many overwrought bases.

A Wonderful Blast from the Past

Following a trail of links, this morning I found myself inspired by a set of photos of an old-school fantasy army made up of vintage Minifigs and Citadel sculpts, and paint jobs inspired by King Crimson's In the Court of the Crimson King.

Love the pine bark armor and pine cone standard!

You really can't go wrong with animated hands, especially giant ones.

There need to be more saturated pastels in today's painter's palette.

When it comes to miniatures, I absolutely eat this stuff up. This sort of whacked-out imagery evokes memories from my childhood of strange books and movies, imagery that made me fall in love with all things fantastic. It brings to mind Brian Froud and Alan Lee and Terry Gilliam and innumerable other creative visionaries. It reminds me of a time when all fantasy wasn't necessarily grimdark and serious and codified.

Check out the full photoset here and bask in the trippy glory!

On the Higher Standards of Being a Hobbyist

I've been involved in the miniatures hobby in some capacity or another for over 20 years now. Just a babe in the woods compared to a lot of old salts, but still long enough to see fads come and go and long-term trends play out. One of the trends I've been most simultaneously fascinated and disturbed by has been the rising standard in what's considered "acceptable" for a rank-and-file, wargame-ready miniature in terms of painting and presentation. Apparently I'm not alone (PDF link). Quoth Mr. Priestly:

Now, I’m not suggesting that this perpetuation of a style and quality of presentation is a bad thing. In so many ways, it is a very good thing, and an entirely positive way of presenting our hobby, both to fellow hobbyists and to prospective ones.  

The reason why all this leaves me feeling a little hollow is simply this – I know I can’t do it! Where, once, I could paint an army with a certain sense of individualism, with confidence, and with pride in the finished result, now I sometimes despair of picking up the paintbrush and showing the results to my fellow gamers.

There can be no doubt that the standard for wargaming miniatures has risen steadily since the dawn of the hobby. An interesting observation made in the essay is that the rising standard has also led to increased homogenization of style. I tend to agree. I certainly wish these days we'd see more John Blanches or Bryan Ansells held up as worthy standards of aspiration alongside the McVeys and the Dallimores.

Interestingly, my personal bugbear is not painting, per se, but basing. It's my own version of "back in my day . . .". Wellsir, back in my day, ya painted the base green, ya slapped some glue on the top (or, if you were really lazy/painting a big unit, you just used the paint while it was still wet as an adhesive), and ya dipped the base in a bag of Woodland Scenics flock and called it good enough. You did this even for your centerpiece figures, your exquisitely-painted masterpieces. But somewhere along the way, it was decided that bases needed as much attention as the figure itself. First it was texturing bases with gravel and stone. Then it was adding static grass. Now it's adding flowers and bushes and skulls and whatever else until the base becomes a miniature in its own right.

And in that, I echo Priestly's lament. Painting figures for the joy of it has always been a big part of the hobby for me (always secondary to actually playing, mind). But, even though I've gone along with the crowd along the Fancy Basing Road, it's enervating, just like in the quote above; the daunting task of spending another 30 minutes on a "proper" base after finishing with the figure. Basing used to be my favorite part of miniatures painting, because it was quick and easy while still giving the figure a nice "finished" look - putting the bow on, so to speak. Now it's my least favorite task.

Back when I was collecting old Grenadier and Ral Partha figures for my Fantasy Warriors armies, I intentionally used a more old-fashioned basing method (as pictured above), and it was a welcome relief. And yet I continue to base all my other figures in the latter-day styles. Because, let's face it, it looks good. I just wonder sometimes if there's a middle ground.

On the Importance of Fluff

I'm re-reading the Adeptus Titanicus rulebook and old Epic battle reports from White Dwarf and, in so doing, I'm being reminded of the value of "fluff" (ugh, sorry to use that term) in miniatures gaming. Lining up armies and having a bash is all well and good, but the games take on a much deeper meaning if there's some sort of background to the conflict and the forces involved. An extra dimension is added. It's why I'm not just painting up generic "Normandy" miniatures for my WWII project, but instead choosing a time and place (the fighting around Tilly-sur-Seulles during the first week after D-Day) and modeling units accordingly. Thus, it's not just "British", it's men of the 6th Durham Light Infantry; it's not just "Germans", it's panzergrenadiers of the Panzer Lehr Division. All of this adds an extra level of immersion to the game, even if the battles themselves are not based on any actual engagement.

Something that's long been missing from my fantasy wargaming (first with Fantasy Warriors and now with Armies of Arcana) has been this sense of background immersion. I was going back through old posts and noticed that in my very first FW battle report (which was also the very first post on this blog), I wrote a bit of game fiction in the style of those old White Dwarf battle reports. I'd like to get back to doing that once I start gaming and posting battle reports again in earnest, but without a clear idea of a game world that the battles are taking place in, it's tough to do that.

Part of the problem has been getting a fix on what this fantasy world might look like based on the miniatures in our collection so far. A few weeks ago I posted that, in the wake of Ray Harryhausen's death, I was coming to realize that our Undead and Amazon armies convey a pretty strong vibe of pulp fantasy. That vision has only grown stronger in the time since, growing to the point that I'm now envisioning a sort of Appendix N-style fantasy world of amazons, necromancers, cavemen, and dinosaurs, all with a healthy dose of post-apocalyptic fantasy thrown into the mix. I've got visions of making some terrain pieces of "futuristic"-style ruins, maybe a half-buried spaceship, and of tracking down some vintage fantasy miniatures armed with sci-fi blasters and such.

To illustrate the value of even a bit of fluff: as soon as I'd figured out even a background as vaguely-sketched as this, I immediately came up with an idea for a third fantasy army, a project I've been wanting to put together for some years now. I've toyed with various ideas: crusading knights, "regular" dwarves, "feral" dwarves, "Roman" gorillas, Wargods of Aegyptus, and so forth, but they all felt too much like bog standard fantasy or, at best, a thinly-veiled derivative. With my pulp fantasy idea, though, I instantly thought of a perfect third project: cavemen and prehistoric animals! I haven't decided if I'm gonna go with "early" hominids and dinosaurs (as in the style of the Frazetta painting above) or "later" hominids and Ice Age mammals (certainly, a woolly mammoth or two on the caveman side would form a suitable counterpart to my Undead Mammoth). But whatever the case, it certainly feels right. I love the idea of there being this degenerate race of savage cave dwellers as a counterpoint to the bronze-clad Amazons, and I really like the various caveman miniatures I've looked at so far. I don't know why I never thought of doing a Frazetta-esque fantasy army before, particularly in light of the Amazons and their curvy general, but it's on now!

Or rather it will be once I clear a project or two off my table--hoping to get started on this one maybe by fall or winter. In the meantime, I'm hoping to fill in some of the details of this Appendix N fantasy world that's brewing in my head.

The Eyes Have It

As I was oohing and ahhing over the latest post at Lead Legion, an interesting thought occurred to me: more and more, it seems that, outside of a basic flesh wash, people are not bothering with painting in the eyes at all on their 28mm figures.

Now, any smaller scale and it's obvious why one wouldn't bother with eyes. But I've always painted eyes in on my 28mm figures whenever possible, particularly as the scale has crept larger and larger over the years and sculptors have gone out of their way to sculpt "eyeballs" as it were. It's challenging and really easy to screw up (and just as easy to fix and try again, really), but a figure just doesn't feel done to me until something's done around the eyes.

Note that this doesn't mean I'm painting little white dots on every eyeball in a 30-man unit. For mass ranks, I'll settle for a bit of dark wash and maybe a splash of black paint. Nor am I advocating painting elaborate eye effects - just a hint of a glance or a look is what I go for. What strikes me about this latest trend, though, is that, as in the Escher models in the page linked above, no extra paint has been applied to "pretty up" the eye area. Just flesh-colored eyeballs ala an old Hanna-Barbera cartoon.

Also please note that I'm not taking Lead Legion to task, here. For one thing, he might be painting to the client's specifications. But even if that's just his style, I'm not judging it. It's just a curious trend I've noticed I've noticed among many miniatures painters, professional and otherwise, and I'm wondering if it has a source or if it's just one of those things.

This might be the first post in a series of my observations as a 20-plus-year veteran about changing standards in miniatures painting. We'll see how self-indulgent I'm feeling in the coming weeks...