Zone Carboardis Part II (Terrain)

The final product (with a little bit
of photo trickery)

I like to generate and use prototypes during my hobby projects.  Especially when using inexpensive materials, testing the water with a piece helps to solidify the build process, and the associated design challenges and experimentation all add to a sense of excitement that ultimately translates into enthusiasm and outcomes.  One of the greatest challenges in any craft-related hobby is actually seeing projects through to completion.  Proof that completion is within reach ranks amongst the best mitigants to the procrastination-like malaise of never-ending planning, little execution and rare realisation.


There's an artist by the name of Zdzislaw Beksinski who generated a prolific catalogue of surreal art.  Discussing his actual works is a bit of a challenge, as he didn't name them, but let me share a few pieces with you, specifically a few of his cityscapes.

 

The above piece really resonated with me - the fashion in which the Beksinski has managed, without any specific visual cues, to instil a sense of enormity and scale into the image is fascinating.  There is a sense of age and even an organic quality to the structure; however, it appears to be all but lifeless now.  Beksinski many other works have elements that have also caught my eye and are on the whole they're very evocative, verging on oppressive images, making perfect reference points for the "grim" in "grimdark".

I found that my first Zone Carboardis experiment was a step in the right direction.  Not only did it capture some of the Beksinski-feel, but I was also able to build it quickly and it had the utility I seek when it comes to creating versatile, in-game terrain pieces.  I proved that a more ambitious project was achievable, and I felt I had the necessary skills to attempt an evolution or progression of the same.

What I didn't have was ready access to the primary raw material, being reinforced, Honeycomb Cardboard - unfortunately, I threw out my stock during a recent spring clean of my studio.  As COVID-19 restrictions were in place, going on a typical hunt for stores was out of the question.  Instead, I turned to my local Facebook 'Good Karma' neighbourhood groups and put out some requests for supplies.  I wasn't disappointed either as within a few days I had been donated a generous horde of pieces of varying sizes, widths and lengths.

I thought a batch of around 10 pieces, in the region of 6(L)x2(H)x1.5(W) inches, would do nicely.  Why that particular size?  I've made various pieces of terrain over the years and regularly find myself going back to the utility of transport container-sized pieces, Many 28mm scaled games adopt 6-inch range as the 'norm' when it comes to movement and being 2-inches high makes for a realistic roofline.  Also, having relatively regular, rectangular pieces makes for easy stacking and straight-forward storage.  So I set to work...

None of the pieces was exactly 2-inches thick, so I went about making laminates.
The process was as simple as gluing two or three pieces together with PVA.
Once the PVA was set, I simply cut them to size with a breadknife.

Using a palette knife, I then coated the top and sides of each piece in filler.
I used what was on hand - leftovers from some old plaster repair jobs I had
made around the house over the years.

During the process of preparing the pieces, I took the opportunity to experiment with some greebles.  Like many hobbyists, I'm forever collecting little things on the off chance that they might one day be used.  My personal favourites include e-waste (circuit boards, resistors, capacitors, etc) and plants - Australian natives are suitably alien-looking that they rarely disappoint.  As I was still developing my techniques and experimenting with layouts, I restrained my myself somewhat and saved some of my best bits for later iterations. One element that I was pleased with was a piece of electrical wire 'gloved' in a wonderfully textured woven fabric, which made for great pipes.  Using a hobby drill I fixed 'pipes', tentacles and other elements to the pieces before priming and painting.

Once the filler had dried, a generic black filler+primer spray
provided a suitable base ahead of painting.

Painting terrain is a wonderful endeavour.  Relative to the usual fair of 28mm miniatures, a piece of terrain provides a large canvas which can blanket a multitude of sins and errors, is forgiving when it comes to the colour palette selection and occasionally provides or reveals elements that are only revealed upon the (often not so tender) ministrations of the brush.  I suspect I am one of the many terrain makers out there who reserve their 'good' paints and brushes for their miniatures.  When it comes to tackling my terrain, I turn to my cheap, craft shop-sourced acrylics and hog hair brushes, which I find are more than adequate for the bulk of my projects.

I took inspiration from the oranges, yellows and blacks Beksinski had applied in a number of his pictures.  After the black undercoat, I built up layers of browns working my way up to oranges.  During the process, I noticed the pieces resembled hides or even flesh, stretched across the edifices.  I introduced some reds and lighter brows into the mix and was thrilled with the effect.  When painting terrain, I tend to start with broad, almost reckless swathes of colour and lighten each piece with many layers of increasingly drier dry-brushes.  For me, the trick is knowing when to say "enough is enough.

So that brought iteration II to a close.  Fear not, this is hardly where the tale ends!