I first tried sculpting when I was about twelve. I had just got my first Osprey book, Men-at-Arms 182: British Battle Insignia 1914-18, and I wanted figures that looked like the illustrations. You simply could not walk into a model shop and buy them, so I decided to have a go at making them myself.
That meant Milliput and some Tamiya Second World War British infantry, which I tried to turn into First World War soldiers. It did not go particularly well, but it was probably the first real step towards sculpting.
At the time Milliput was what everyone seemed to recommend. I had seen it used in Military Modelling, and I even tried using paper because I had seen a figure painter in the magazine using it for details. I was never particularly happy with the results and did not really stick with it, but I kept making and converting things.
When I got into Games Workshop at around fourteen, it became much easier because I was working with plastic. I could cut up RTB01 Space Marines and Fantasy Regiment figures and swap parts around without having to sculpt everything from scratch. There might be the odd bit of Milliput involved, perhaps a tentacle holding a bolt gun, but most of it was just experimenting and learning how figures went together.
It was only when I started working in Games Workshop retail that Green Stuff really entered the picture. There were plenty of quiet moments in the shop, and I was lucky enough to have a manager who was happy to sit and paint when there were no customers around. I started converting metal figures, filling gaps and adding small details such as pouches and bags. That was probably when sculpting stopped being something I occasionally tried and started becoming something I wanted to get better at.
These days I still use Green Stuff for most of my day-to-day work. I actually preferred ProCreate when it was available because I found it slightly easier to use, but sadly it is no longer made. If I am doing something very fine, such as the En'Garde figures, I mix Magic Sculpt into the Green Stuff, roughly seventy percent Green Stuff to thirty percent Magic Sculpt. It makes it easier to blend and file and gives a much finer edge.
My tools have not really changed that much either. I use a size 0 flat chisel Clay Shaper constantly for the initial shaping, and then there is one tool I bought about twenty years ago with a small blunted blade on the end. I use it all the time for refining detail and I get genuinely anxious if I cannot find it. These days I also could not work without my Optivisor, which is probably just age catching up with me.
Most figures start in much the same way. I use a pre-made wire figure, pose it, then start adding bulk to the neck, torso and backs of the legs. From there I begin building the clothing and uniform. I tend to sculpt the head once the basic uniform is done, and that is usually the point where the figure suddenly comes alive for me.
Faces are probably my favourite thing to sculpt. There is something about putting the expression in that turns it from a lump of wire and putty into a person. Hands are the complete opposite. I still never find hands easy, no matter how many years I have been doing this.
I have never really worked by sculpting something at a much larger scale and reducing it afterwards, so working at the actual size just feels normal to me. I need to be able to hold the figure, turn it around and look at it from different angles. Some sculptors put their figures on handles, but I never really have. I just hold the base because that is what I have always done.
I do not plan every figure down to the smallest detail either. If I am sculpting a set, I will usually have the poses in mind, but reference is incredibly important. How a weapon is carried, how equipment hangs and how cloth sits on the body all matter. If one of those things is slightly wrong, the whole figure can start to look wrong. Weapons and equipment also need to feel as though they have weight. It is a small thing, but it makes a huge difference.
Sometimes a sculpt simply does not work. If that happens, it is usually a head. I can often tell from the first tool mark that it is not going to be right, and if that happens I just start again. There is no point carrying on with something that feels wrong from the beginning. I have had figures that were probably half finished and still did not look right, and in those cases I have binned them and started again.
That is one of the things I always tell people when they are learning to sculpt. Do not be frightened of making mistakes, but do not try to rescue everything either. If something is wrong, let the putty harden and then remove it. Hardened putty will often ping off cleanly and leave the layer underneath alone. Trying to pull soft putty away usually just makes a mess.
I have run a few sculpting classes over the years, both in shops and at Salute, and the one thing I always end up saying is that people use far too much putty. I usually start them off by making something simple like a bag or a pouch, and almost immediately I am telling them they probably need about seventy percent less putty than they think they do.
That is still the best advice I could give someone starting out. Do not sit down and decide you are going to sculpt a complete figure. Start with a pouch, a bag or a simple bit of equipment. Learn how the putty moves. Build things in layers, and if you have sculpted something you like, let it harden before you start working on top of it.
After more than twenty years, most of the process has become instinctive. I often have something playing in the background while I work, because it actually helps me not to think too hard about the sculpting. The muscle memory takes over.
You notice it when you have been away. If I have been on holiday, I have to think about things a little bit more when I first start again. That does not mean I stop thinking about sculpting while I am away, of course.
My figures have changed a lot over the years. The heads were massive when I first started, the poses were clunky, the arms were bulky and the equipment was often too big. Even something as simple as a belt has changed. Years ago I might have made the whole belt from a strip of flattened putty. Now most of it might simply be a line cut into the figure, with extra putty only where it really needs to stand proud.
That is one of the things you learn over time. You stop trying to sculpt everything and start understanding where the detail actually needs to be.
When I look back at figures I made twenty years ago, the first things I notice are usually the faces and the bulkiness of the arms. Then I notice how much worse the sculpting was compared with what I can do now. I think that is probably healthy. If I looked back at something I made twenty years ago and thought it was every bit as good as something I made today, I would be slightly worried.
Digital sculpting is obviously a huge part of the miniature industry now, and there is a lot about it I admire. Hard-edged things such as weapons are particularly interesting because digital tools are so good at producing clean geometry. I do want to learn more about it, but at the moment I can sculpt something by hand much faster than I could make the same thing digitally.
I like the idea of eventually being able to supply an STL, and perhaps scanning my hand sculpts will turn out to be the best of both worlds. The little bit of 3D work I have tried has not given me the same sense of satisfaction yet, although that may simply be because I have not learned to use it properly.
What first fascinated me about sculpting was seeing people make something with their hands. Those old Military Modelling articles about scratch-building figures made a huge impression on me, and that feeling has never really gone away.
That does not mean I like obvious imperfections. I do not want fingerprints or tool marks in a finished figure and I try to keep the sculpt as clean as possible. But there is another sort of imperfection that I do like, particularly with historical miniatures.
Things made by hand in the real world are not perfectly identical. A belt can sit slightly differently, equipment can hang at an odd angle, cloth can tear and one object can be slightly different to the next. Hand sculpting lends itself naturally to that slightly pre-industrial feel.
Sometimes digital sculpting can become so refined that a bit of that gets lost, although the best digital sculptors understand this perfectly well. You can often tell when someone working digitally also understands traditional sculpting because their work has a different feel to it.
For me, the thing I would miss is the direct connection. I push the putty and the figure changes in front of me. I can add a little tear in the cloth, move a piece of equipment or alter an expression as I work. That immediacy is probably the thing I enjoy most.
People sometimes assume that because there is a single physical original, the master itself must be precious to me.
It really is not.
Once a figure has been moulded and gone into production, I am quite happy to cut the original apart and reuse pieces of it. The master is not the point. The finished miniature is.
Nothing beats seeing a figure come back from casting. There is still a real sense of satisfaction in holding the finished metal or resin figure for the first time.
But even that is not the best part.
The best part is seeing someone else paint it.
Someone has chosen to spend their money on something I made, and then spend their time painting it. That means far more to me than keeping the original green sitting in a drawer somewhere.
If I had to pick a range that really sums up what I like about traditional sculpting, it would probably be the En'Garde figures. Hand sculpting suited John Blanche's concepts perfectly, and being able to work directly from his artwork was genuinely a bit mind-blowing.
There was something about physically translating his ideas into a figure that made me feel connected to the artwork in a way I really enjoyed.
Collectors often tell me they can recognise my figures from the faces. I quite like that. If there is something in the work that gives me away, I am happy for it to be the faces.
I have been sculpting professionally for more than twenty years now, and I still work this way because I genuinely love doing it.
There was a period when I was working as a salesman in wood flooring and I used to sit in the car at lunchtime sculpting. That probably tells you everything you need to know.
These days I sometimes joke that I am retired because I get to spend my working day doing the thing I would choose to do anyway.
The basic challenge has never really changed since I was twelve. I still get a kick out of taking something two-dimensional, whether it is a photograph, an illustration or a piece of artwork, and turning it into a 28mm figure.
I still get the same satisfaction when I finish one as I did years ago, and that is probably the main reason I am still doing it.
The website gives me a chance to show a little more of that side of the process, not just the finished miniatures, but how they are made and why making them still matters to me.
Sculpting has always been much more than just a way of earning a living.
If I won the lottery tomorrow, I would still be sculpting.
I would just be doing it in a much, much bigger house.
Paul
