The Challenge of Photography

By David Cox

A wise fellow once said that you can take an accurate photograph or a pretty photograph, but seldom a photograph which is both accurate and pretty. This statement is, of course, nonsense, just look at the images taken by the James Webb telescope, but the statement fairly captures the frustration that so often accompanies the use of a camera. This is especially true when trying to photograph model cars. All sorts of photographic aids address this challenge— everything from light boxes to tripods to close-up lenses—but the courageous model builder who dares to record his accomplishments will soon learn that building a great model is one thing, and photographing it is another. As is so often true in life, the skills demanded may be related but they are not the same.

A great model begins with a vision. Somewhere, the builder gets a good idea of what he wants to achieve, and he sees this in his mind as a shiny (or grubby) sleek (or bulky) and roaring (or whispering) vehicle of his dreams (literally). No matter how close the finished model comes to this vision, the odds of a camera capturing it are long, very long. Say one in a million. Add in the fact that many models begin with artfully taken photo of a prototype auto, staged in a lovely or thrilling or amazing or famous site and expertly lighted and sometimes expertly re-touched, and the odds of the average model builder getting a thrill out of a snap shot taken on the kitchen table are even slimmer. These odds, however, can be improved by a few simple steps:

Know the basics—The basics in this case are truly very basic. Know what the prototype looks like. This is pretty basic but it is surprising to see how many builders miss this concept. The more a model looks like the prototype, the more successfully it will appear to the casual observer. If the car is rare as lips on a chicken, this requirement is less stringent than when the prototype car can be inspected in every parking lot within a hundred mile radius. Model builders have wrestled with picking subjects for their attention since the first model was made of a prehistoric deer. Accuracy counts, unless the result is art. Good, clear, photos of the prototype are essential.

Photography can help with this. Finding good photos of rare cars used to be a great challenge. Nowadays, the Internet assures that there are plenty of photos of all sort of cars, and some of the photos are of the right cars. Most are not. Taking just the right photo of the right car can be costly and annoying—picture flying in to a show in order to take photos of a specific car only to have the owner refuse to open the hood—and fraught with misadventure (“we haven’t had rain at this show in years” or “this is our first hurricane!”). The Internet offers better odds than relying on the weather services and airlines. Knowing what the prototype actually is and what it actually looks like is essential to finding the right photographs. Now you can access accurate photos while sitting in your easy chair.

Use what you have—When you find suitable photos of a car—photos that are not taken at an angle, photos that are clear and well lighted—do some measuring. Wheels are a great place to start because they are a known dimension. Measure the diameter of the wheel in the photo, and anything else in the photo that matches that dimension is the same size as the wheel. In this way, most dimensions can be checked. If this subject is new to you, then this idea may be useful in explaining what all those people with cameras are doing at the car shows. (Seeing people take photos are unusual angles can be explained simply by assuming that they are artists and have no interest in actual dimensions.)

Compare photos—If you take photos of your model at the same angle as those taken of the prototype (see photos above) you can have the ultimate in affirmation. If the two photos look the same, then it can be assumed that the model is a success. Again, this is a matter of odds, and they, as before, are distressingly long. No worries here, so long as everyone remembers that the idea of building models is based on having fun, and the more models we build, the more fun we are having.

For the few of us who have plenty of photos and very, very few matches to similar photos of prototypes, photos can still be useful in another way. Put aside the ‘end result’ of all that measuring and cutting and assembling, and consider the process. The process of building the model can be greatly enhanced by the simple application of a camera.

Record the process—by keeping a camera near the workbench, there is a greater chance that the harried builder will remember to take photos of the actual process of construction. It may seem fanciful that anything can be gained by recording the Herculean struggle to assemble a Pocher wire wheel, but a year or two after the struggle, it might be useful to remember the tools used, the order of the spokes, or even how the wheel components were prepared before construction. Things like special tools or jigs will be a godsend for the hapless builder facing a challenge which is memorable for its struggle but not so much for its solutions. A few seconds spent on photos can be amply rewarded when encountering another set of un-assembled wheels.

Although rarely mentioned in connection with models, the idea is well established that the value of a restored car is enhanced by a good, clear photographic record of its restoration. Of course, most of us do not worry about the market value of our model projects, but it stands to reason that spending a year or two building a model is in itself a justification for taking some pictures. At the very least, photos can attest to the hidden details of our beloved Pochers, and the odds are good that the photos will be of interest to whoever ends up with our treasures. Furthermore, it is hard to imagine a better way to drive away unwanted visitors than by dragging out several photo albums of previous projects. (Caution: This technique may backfire if visitors are model enthusiasts.)

Finally, photographs can be instrumental in allowing us to extend our reach as modelers.

Convert accomplishment into skill —When we have accomplished the seemingly impossible task of building a Pocher, and we are faced with a few doodads and whatchamacallits left to rattle around in the Pocher box, we are justified in feeling a sense of pride. This feeling is a gift to be treasured, and it is relatively rare. One might assume that it cannot be improved. Construction photographs have taught us that there can be an additional reason for taking the time and expending the effort to record the construction process. By seeing how something on a previous model was assembled, we often can see our way to improving what we have done. This incremental improvement contributes to a confidence that in turn leads to more small refinements until, lo and behold, we have actually accumulated new skills. Do something once, and it is an accomplishment; do the same thing again, and the builder will have learned a new skill.

Like most skills, taking pictures can be a nuisance, and it surely is fraught with frustration. At the same time, photos can be a treasure of memories and inspiration. Most of all, photos can be an essential part in our Pocher adventure. We have said it before and it bears repeating: the most important tool on our bench is the camera, which, nowadays, is really a phone.