Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Taking a Breather
I had to take a break from etching bricks to working on the stone facade. Unfortunately, I was working while having just a teensy, little martini before dinner and I jacked it all up and had to start over practically from scratch! One step forward, two steps back...Ugh! Note to self: Don't drink and paint. At first I was totally bummed by my idiocy, and not even watching the fur fly on RuPaul's Drag Race could console me, but I'm liking how it's turning out. Live and drink I mean learn. Learn!
As you can see, I also finished the front door with knobs and kick plates. They're gold-plated brass. Fancy-schmancy, huh? I decided to beef up the stairs, too. I'm trying desperately to keep Merriman Park's footprint small as to not completely take over my dining room, where it will finally sit, but --what's another 3/4 inch?
The big push now is to finally install the cast iron balustrade between the pillars. This will mean the pillars will at long last be fixed into place. I can't believe they haven't broken to bits for the number of times they've tipped over! I'm having just a little angst over this step --drilling holes into the balcony floor and into my columns makes me kind of nervous...
The banisters are from Sue Cook Miniatures in England. (As are the face keystones in the photo). The banisters are cast, I believe, out of lead but *confidential to Karin Corbin* --I promise I won't lick them. BTW, I have ordered several items from Sue Cook and have always been perfectly thrilled with both the superb quality of her wares and her extremely prompt service. In fact, I just placed another order with her for a ceiling medallion for the Entrance Hall. I know! The interior!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Book Review: Thomas Jefferson, Architect --The Interactive Portfolio-- by Chuck Wills
Those of you who follow this blog and the evolution of Merriman Park know that I am a huge admirer of Thomas Jefferson's architectural legacy and that my own Merriman Park is a bit of an homage to him. So I was thrilled to pick up this book the other day. This gorgeous tome details Jefferson's most famous works, including his residences, Monticello and Poplar Forest as well as the University of Virginia and the Virginia State Capital. I had hoped to see a chapter on the homes he designed for his neighboring friends (Edgemont and Barboursville in particlar). But alas, these lesser-known works are left out.
As this is The Interactive Portfolio, the book comes with copies of some of Jefferson's original drawings, all stored in vellum envelopes. The sketches are printed on faux crumbling parchment, which is just a tad cheesy, (and reminded me of my pirate treasure map-making days as a boy, when I used to concoct messages made of tea-stained paper with burned edges, stuffed into one of mother's cast-off wine bottles and tossed into the sky-blue waters of Lake Minnetonka --the irony of pirates sailing into Minnesota somehow escaping me).
But I digress.
Thanks to this book, I now have two or three plans for future dollhouses. Everything is there: moldings, trim --just waiting to be built.
I was a little disappointed at first that the chapter on Poplar Forest showed that eight-sided gem (the first octagonal house in America) with its roof in its unrestored state. But as I already have books on Poplar Forest detailing its restoration, I am happy to have a record of it in "before" mode. I saw in a magazine that they recently repainted the dining room of Monticello in a very intense (but historically accurate) chrome-yellow, and this edition shows the older, and dare I say the more preferable "wedgewood blue" scheme.
Thomas Jefferson, Architect --The Interactive Portfolio-- is a must-have for fans of one of our country's Founding Fathers and for devotes of eighteenth and early nineteenth-century architecture.
As this is The Interactive Portfolio, the book comes with copies of some of Jefferson's original drawings, all stored in vellum envelopes. The sketches are printed on faux crumbling parchment, which is just a tad cheesy, (and reminded me of my pirate treasure map-making days as a boy, when I used to concoct messages made of tea-stained paper with burned edges, stuffed into one of mother's cast-off wine bottles and tossed into the sky-blue waters of Lake Minnetonka --the irony of pirates sailing into Minnesota somehow escaping me).
But I digress.
Thanks to this book, I now have two or three plans for future dollhouses. Everything is there: moldings, trim --just waiting to be built.
I was a little disappointed at first that the chapter on Poplar Forest showed that eight-sided gem (the first octagonal house in America) with its roof in its unrestored state. But as I already have books on Poplar Forest detailing its restoration, I am happy to have a record of it in "before" mode. I saw in a magazine that they recently repainted the dining room of Monticello in a very intense (but historically accurate) chrome-yellow, and this edition shows the older, and dare I say the more preferable "wedgewood blue" scheme.
Thomas Jefferson, Architect --The Interactive Portfolio-- is a must-have for fans of one of our country's Founding Fathers and for devotes of eighteenth and early nineteenth-century architecture.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
More bricks...
Had to take a little break and get away from bricking! This is SO tedious --you can't even imagine. I had to turn Merriman Park on its end in order to do the side. I had hoped that I would finish both ends, but at this rate I'll be lucky if I get this side finished tonight. My gouge seems to be getting a little dull, too. It just doesn't seem to glide through the paint and gesso like it did at first, but maybe that's just my imagination. Or maybe I'm just getting tired.
This is how I'm finishing the corners and the quoins.
Pretty cool, huh? Ugh, of course I broke off one of my urns while working on the second story. Bull in a china shop. Guess I'll have to pick up some Super Glue tomorrow.
Ordered my double stairs this weekend! Actually it's just two straight flights that I'm going to alter. I'm thinking one or two steps up to a landing with the split going up each side. Also ordered some more ribbed roofing so I can work on the aforementioned hips.
It's still snowing out here in Minnesota. Looks like another five or six inches. Sure glad we're heading down to Captiva next month!
This is how I'm finishing the corners and the quoins.
Pretty cool, huh? Ugh, of course I broke off one of my urns while working on the second story. Bull in a china shop. Guess I'll have to pick up some Super Glue tomorrow.
Ordered my double stairs this weekend! Actually it's just two straight flights that I'm going to alter. I'm thinking one or two steps up to a landing with the split going up each side. Also ordered some more ribbed roofing so I can work on the aforementioned hips.
It's still snowing out here in Minnesota. Looks like another five or six inches. Sure glad we're heading down to Captiva next month!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Roof
So now I am obsessing about the roof, again! I'm thinking about adding shallow hips to flank the central gable. Why? I don't know why, god knows you won't really see them once the house is perched high on its future shelf. I'm OCD, remember? Don't judge me. Truth be told: the flat roof has begun to gnaw on me for whatever reason. My architectural hero (and the inspiration behind Merriman Park), namely: Thomas Jefferson had the same dilemma with some of his buildings. He loved the look of a classical, flat roof, but hated the dreadful impracticality that a flat roof provides. Leaky ceilings are such a bore!
Karin Corbin has already convinced me of the complete travesty that a vulgar, verdigris copper roof would have been, had I foolishly installed one on Merriman Park. On the other hand, Karin is absolutely poetical about the supreme elegance, divine sublimity not to mention the utter, unparalleled ton of a weathered, lead roof and honestly I can not disagree with her. What could I have possibly been thinking? Why, a verdigris-copper roof is so positively garish by compare. Like a drag queen in head-to-toe Versace showing up at a DAR luncheon where everyone else is in St John.
So she sends me over to Richard Stacey's website to shop for lead, and this of course only opens up the can of worms of: real lead, vs faux. A real lead roof would undoubtedly be gorgeous, if not terribly heavy, expensive and a possible environmental hazard. (Though Karin, in her subtle wisdom, points out that if I have safety concerns I could always warn my guests that Merriman Park is not a gingerbread house --so kindly do not help yourself to the cornice, thank you very much).
But having a false, painted "lead" roof with genuine lead flashing seems --well, tacky. I mean, you don't see the Queen of England mixing the Crown Jewels with the Joan Rivers Collection from QVC, do you?
I didn't think so.
Here I folded a large envelope into a shallow hip roof. Obviously, the "actual" roof would meet at the pediment gable, but you get the picture. I suppose the chimneys will have to be higher. *sigh*
Lead wasn't the only roofing material that caught my attention over at Richard Stacey. He also sells slate roofing, both real and faux, which I daresay would appeal even to the discriminating eye of Ms. Corbin.
Decisions, decisions!
Karin Corbin has already convinced me of the complete travesty that a vulgar, verdigris copper roof would have been, had I foolishly installed one on Merriman Park. On the other hand, Karin is absolutely poetical about the supreme elegance, divine sublimity not to mention the utter, unparalleled ton of a weathered, lead roof and honestly I can not disagree with her. What could I have possibly been thinking? Why, a verdigris-copper roof is so positively garish by compare. Like a drag queen in head-to-toe Versace showing up at a DAR luncheon where everyone else is in St John.
So she sends me over to Richard Stacey's website to shop for lead, and this of course only opens up the can of worms of: real lead, vs faux. A real lead roof would undoubtedly be gorgeous, if not terribly heavy, expensive and a possible environmental hazard. (Though Karin, in her subtle wisdom, points out that if I have safety concerns I could always warn my guests that Merriman Park is not a gingerbread house --so kindly do not help yourself to the cornice, thank you very much).
But having a false, painted "lead" roof with genuine lead flashing seems --well, tacky. I mean, you don't see the Queen of England mixing the Crown Jewels with the Joan Rivers Collection from QVC, do you?
I didn't think so.
Lead wasn't the only roofing material that caught my attention over at Richard Stacey. He also sells slate roofing, both real and faux, which I daresay would appeal even to the discriminating eye of Ms. Corbin.
Decisions, decisions!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
13 February Update
Like my new, updated banner photo?
Really got a lot done this weekend. I finished bricking the front of the house, and three of the chimneys. Actually, I did paint and etch all four chimneys, but the first one turned out ghetto so I'm re-doing it! Seriously, I don't know what happened to it but compared to the others, it looks like an ape painted it! A drunk ape. On acid. Oh well --practice makes perfect, right?
Is it just me, or is there a ghostly specter hovering in the drawing room window?
Here also is the new olive-green door. Still going back and forth about the knobs. I just found out the new carriage lamps are on back-order --grrrrrr! Hate when that happens.
Believe it or not, I got the two end walls both gessoed and base-coated. I know! things are moving along...
Miniaturist diva Karin Corbin says I have to flash the chimneys!
Not sure if I'll be posting any photos of Merriman Park for a while. I'm going to have to take most of it apart so I can turn it on end to brick the two end walls. Wish me luck!
Really got a lot done this weekend. I finished bricking the front of the house, and three of the chimneys. Actually, I did paint and etch all four chimneys, but the first one turned out ghetto so I'm re-doing it! Seriously, I don't know what happened to it but compared to the others, it looks like an ape painted it! A drunk ape. On acid. Oh well --practice makes perfect, right?
Here also is the new olive-green door. Still going back and forth about the knobs. I just found out the new carriage lamps are on back-order --grrrrrr! Hate when that happens.
Believe it or not, I got the two end walls both gessoed and base-coated. I know! things are moving along...
Not sure if I'll be posting any photos of Merriman Park for a while. I'm going to have to take most of it apart so I can turn it on end to brick the two end walls. Wish me luck!
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Tutorial: How to Etch Bricks
Though there are many ways to simulate brick on a dollhouse --beautifully printed papers, embossed wood or latex veneers, intricate stencils, and many other methods-- perhaps the most realistic way is by etching individual scale bricks into paint. Nothing can quite compare to a "brick" surface finished in this manner. It is a cost-effective, but highly time-consuming, labor-intensive process. It is the method favored by the dollhouse deities, Mulvany and Rogers. And if it's good enough for them, well then certainly it's good enough for Merriman Park!
(The dollhouse Holy Bible)!
Deborah Knight of my dollhouse miniatures chat group asked how I do it and I thought, "How funny, didn't I already explain the process in my blog?" Guess I'm spending too much time blabbing on and on about Dark Shadows, and not enough about the nuts and bolts about Merriman Park.
Step Two: Two coats of gesso make up your mortar base. Be sure to tint your gesso with acrylic paints --the au natural gesso is a bit too bright for most projects. I used a drop or two of burnt sienna for Merriman Park.
Step Three: On top of the gesso, apply two coats of your brick base color. Bricks come in many colors and I mixed mine from artist's acrylic paints, but any latex paint will do. Keep in mind that your finished bricks will look considerably lighter once the bricks are etched into your base coat. Let base coat dry for at least twenty-four hours.
Step Four: With a ruler, mark the horizontal mortar joints. I used 3/16th" for Merriman Park.
Step Five: Using a small woodworker's gouge, etch the horizontal mortar lines. I found it helpful to go up two or three inches at a time. That is, mark your lines for two or three inches and then go ahead and etch them in. Continue marking and etching. If your lines are off by even a little, it will show. You can always paint out any mistakes and do over, but that is such a drag! The gouge will leave miniature curlicues of acrylic paint all over the place, so be warned! Use a small, stiff paintbrush to keep them at bay.
(One of the first brick mock-ups for Merriman Park. Always experiment on a piece of scrap before tackling your project)!
Step Six: Mark your vertical lines. This creates the "individual bricks" so take your time and be accurate. Merriman Park is an eighteenth-century house so they would have used the flemish bond, which is what I reproduced.
(Photographs do not show the detailed, 3-D effect that etched grout lines produce).
Step Seven: Have a cocktail, rest your eyes and appreciate your work! (Most important step).
I haven't done Step Eight, yet, which is to go back and highlight individual bricks in a random pattern. I'm working on bricking the chimneys right now. (Chimneys with pots, I might add, thanks to Karin Corbin!
Deborah Knight of my dollhouse miniatures chat group asked how I do it and I thought, "How funny, didn't I already explain the process in my blog?" Guess I'm spending too much time blabbing on and on about Dark Shadows, and not enough about the nuts and bolts about Merriman Park.
How to Do It:
Step One: With any project, surface preparation is key. Seal your surface with a quality primer. I used to be on the enamel-primer-only team, but recent improvements to latex primers have brought me around. (Cleaning up with soap and water, as opposed to chemical solvents was a big factor in my change of heart). 
Step Two: Two coats of gesso make up your mortar base. Be sure to tint your gesso with acrylic paints --the au natural gesso is a bit too bright for most projects. I used a drop or two of burnt sienna for Merriman Park.
Step Three: On top of the gesso, apply two coats of your brick base color. Bricks come in many colors and I mixed mine from artist's acrylic paints, but any latex paint will do. Keep in mind that your finished bricks will look considerably lighter once the bricks are etched into your base coat. Let base coat dry for at least twenty-four hours.
Step Four: With a ruler, mark the horizontal mortar joints. I used 3/16th" for Merriman Park.
Step Five: Using a small woodworker's gouge, etch the horizontal mortar lines. I found it helpful to go up two or three inches at a time. That is, mark your lines for two or three inches and then go ahead and etch them in. Continue marking and etching. If your lines are off by even a little, it will show. You can always paint out any mistakes and do over, but that is such a drag! The gouge will leave miniature curlicues of acrylic paint all over the place, so be warned! Use a small, stiff paintbrush to keep them at bay.
Step Six: Mark your vertical lines. This creates the "individual bricks" so take your time and be accurate. Merriman Park is an eighteenth-century house so they would have used the flemish bond, which is what I reproduced.
Step Seven: Have a cocktail, rest your eyes and appreciate your work! (Most important step).
I haven't done Step Eight, yet, which is to go back and highlight individual bricks in a random pattern. I'm working on bricking the chimneys right now. (Chimneys with pots, I might add, thanks to Karin Corbin!
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