David's Rules for Small Layouts
Part 2 of 3: Enhancing Realism
Part 1 dealt with many of the realities of small layout design. It was deliberately introduced first because abstract concepts can be yawn-inducing; it was therefore a bit more enticing to begin with concrete subject matter. But, in truth, this part should come before the other: it constitutes the "horse," as opposed to Part 1 being more the "cart." In the hopes that some of my more enthusiastic followers are still with me, and wish to add that extra polish to their small layout, I present what I consider to be the more important stuff.
All small layouts are born into the world under the cloud of a huge disadvantage: there is no possible way to represent anything even remotely realistic at such small proportions (unless you're making a diorama, the distinction being that a diorama does not operate). The real world is beyond enormous; small layouts are often smaller than many single structures found on real-life railroads. They succeed—if at all—through the art of illusion, and that illusion fundamentally relies on research as much as design, if not more so.
Before embarking on a small layout project, know that their genesis is not a fixed, predictable process. Some of my small layouts began with a desire to represent something specific. Others were born by more random processes: one of my favorites began as a pile of leftover track, and a yen to see what could be made of it. Still others started out as one idea, then morphed into something else altogether. The point is that you may not end up with what you expected, and that's perfectly alright.
Research, Research, Research
You want to build a small layout. What will it represent? If you're not after anything more than a "circle under a tree" bit of fantasy, then anything goes, and you need not read further. If you'd prefer to be taken seriously, then you must, first, decide what the layout will represent, and second, do your homework, although some projects are not as straightforward; regardless, some research will be useful somewhere down the line. Indeed, I'm often surprised by the outcome of a project, as it may be quite different from my expectations going in.
I prefer to stick close to home: the Northeast is a treasure trove of railroading history, with countless locales and themes from which to choose, many of which are easily adapted to a compact scene. That said, with the information available through the Internet, one could conceivably model anything in the world with some degree of authenticity.
Bottom line, I've found the key to success is mostly down to capturing the "look" of a particular place and time. What types of industries dominate(d) the area? Are (were) the buildings generally tall or short? Ornate or plain? Is the terrain dramatic or relatively flat? Since we're modeling a miniscule slice of a given setting, we need not be exhaustive, and some subjects may have precious little historical information available; still, any knowledge of the time and place is useful, and will reflect kindly on your end results.
Quite often I've found it most worthwhile to locate one or two small real-life scenes and incorporate them into the final design in some way—even if it's just a sense of those scenes. I might find, say, a bridge, building or intersection that's a little unusual, but in a way representative of the locale. Even just naming some streets and industries after real ones in the area is a way of grounding what is otherwise pure fantasy in some tenuous thread of reality. Research has played a major role in the shaping of every layout I've built; indeed, I would posit similar energies one might invest in a substantial "basement empire" likewise ought to go into the design of even the smallest layout.
Granted, it's possible to go a little overboard; I've known modelers to research train consists, timetable schedules, and so on. But for all efforts in life there's a point of diminishing returns. It may be fun to obsess on the minutiae of a particular time and place, but is it really worth such an effort for a mini- or micro-layout that's already significantly handicapped by its size? Consider your audience, too; will you be showing it off to others cut from the same cloth, or the lay public? Of course, it's all up to you; for myself, I'm happy just to get the look and feel generally right.
Money, Meet Mouth
Up to now this has been all theory and exposition. You'd like something a little more concrete. One of my most recent micro-layout projects was the Perth Amboy Industrial District Railroad. Like many others, the name is a variation of the real thing, in this case the Perth Amboy Railroad Company of New Jersey (about which I've found virtually nothing except one thin book from 1856). The initial layout sketch was rife with all of my usual urban industrial suspects: numerous small industries, dense business buildings, street running, a coal trestle, etcetera. While researching the area, however, I found that small chemical plants dominate the local industries, and saw very little street trackage. Also, Perth Amboy is essentially bisected by the North Jersey Coast Line, an electrified transit railroad, and the area's only vertical drama is the fact that said transit line runs below-grade along portions of its run through town.
The track plan then saw the following revisions: sidings were removed to make it less dense; several industry buildings were replaced by a single, small chemical refinery; and the below-grade street was replaced by a token slice of the North Jersey Coast Line (obviously as a non-functional cosmetic detail). I also re-oriented the roads to avoid most street-running, and named them after real major thoroughfares of the area: State Street and Smith Street (the latter a happy coincidence). They also happen to intersect, although the real ones do so downtown in front of Perth Amboy's tallest building—Amboy Towers, 10 stories—obviously not an option for my layout.
Another concrete example: the smallest micro-layout I've built to date (excluding a couple of T Gauge oddities) is the Greene Granite & Monument Company. It measures a mere 16 by 22 inches, and comprises a single switchback siding within a simple oval loop. Although the GG&MCo began merely as a spontaneous exercise in utilizing leftover track, ironically it wound up as one of my more intensely-researched layouts. Its final appearance was influenced most by the Fletcher Granite Company of Westford, Massachusetts, which still operates today. And while the switchback length of six inches and minimum track radius of four inches (yes, really!) restricted me to nothing more than an 0-4-0 and a single short flatcar or two, I was able to take great advantage of the "vertical drama" of a granite quarry to achieve a visually interesting little layout. Noteworthy details include an animated jib crane and disused quarry equipment along the ROW.
One last thing I've found that never fails to add interest is creating a visual sense of a railroad's history. One of the easiest ways to do this is by including some abandoned track. Most modelers would prefer not to sacrifice precious layout space—especially when the layout is so small to begin with—to non-functional track, but a little can go a long way. Even if it's just a short strip of ties at the edge of the layout, or a disused/partially-dismantled switch (a great way to put a non-functional "junkbox" part to use), the sense of history it imbues can enhance believability. Considering that total railroad mileage in the U.S. began to shrink before 1900 (the peak was around 1890), abandoned track would be plausible on virtually any layout.
Realism versus Veracity
To be painfully honest, all of these parlor tricks claimed to "enhance realism" won't pull the wool over anyone's eyes. I don't mean to burst any bubbles, but no one is going to look at a layout not much bigger than a placemat and gasp, "I can't tell it's a model!" Indeed, no model railroad in existence could fool anyone, for a multitude of reasons.
The biggest single obstacle is a matter of simple physiology: our two eyes are a fixed distance apart, and when looking at a model—even a large scale one—we'll automatically know we're not observing something that's 1:1 by virtue of parallax, depth of field, and a host of other optical issues one may not necessarily understand but will still intuitively sense.
People may be fooled by photographs on occasion, but bear in mind that photos "cheat" by virtue of the camera having only one "eye," and their field of view is restrictive. Even disregarding optical laws, there's no way to disguise the fact that every layout in the world—regardless of size or scale--will have edges, and the skies will have lights, and so on, when viewed in person. (You may ask, "What about garden layouts?" They're just as vulnerable: ever see trees with leaves the size of automobiles?)
"Realism," as used in the context of these guides, is more akin to "veracity," and the more knowledgeable the viewer, the more they'll appreciate the attention paid to good modeling technique. At the end of the day, it's more about having people appreciate your craftsmanship: the attention to detail, historical accuracy, and the cleverness employed to distract their mind's eye from the edges of your tiny universe.
Track, and Distractions Thereof
While working in Z scale, I made a case that good trackwork arguably creates a very real foundation for overall layout realism. (At that time, I was handlaying Code 25 Z Scale track.) And yet, most of my N Scale mini- and micro-layouts feature mass-produced sectional track, usually—gasp!—Code 80. How do I "get away with it?" One simple rule: it's not the track you use; it's how you use the track.
The point at which I came to this realization was when I published photographs of my Trenton Transportation Company layout, which was built using Kato Unitrack—quite often eschewed by the modeling elite as being little more than "toy" track. When one of the fussiest N Scale modelers I knew at the time remarked that he "wasn't bothered" by the Unitrack on my TTC, I knew I'd scored a win.
The trick is one of the oldest in the book: distraction. That I mostly model later 20th Century urban industrial decay allows me to disguise the track with all manner of distracting details. Anything to kill the glare of 80-thousandths tall nickel silver will help: weeds, more ballast, lots of structures packed close to the right-of-way, but most of all, paint! Still, one of the best distractions for "unsightly" track is good modeling. Don't skimp on designing and building structures with care. Pay particular attention to streets (a topic worthy of its own "rules" treatment), and keep the overall level of detailing high across the layout.
But what on Earth would bring an otherwise "fussy" modeler to use Code 80 sectional track in the first place? For one thing, expedience. I may otherwise be a patient modeler, but I enjoy seeing my small layouts spring to life quickly, especially as handlaying a dozen switches in six square feet can be a bit more chore than fun. Also, sectional track is very reliable at maintaining consistency of the very tight radii characteristic of small layouts.
Anyway, as a consequence of manufacturing track accessories in the past, I've had samples of many brands available on hand, and it's been fun challenging myself with the task of designing small layouts utilizing them. I've built layouts with Kato Unitrack, Tomix Fine Track, Minitrix and Atlas. There are, of course, other brands, including Arnold, Bachmann, Fleischmann, Peco and Roco, many of which are on my list for potential future layouts.
Finally, a tangential motivation has been a "lead by example" strategy. Many modelers might wish to build small layouts, but lack some of the skills—particularly in the tracklaying department—necessary to achieve reliable results. To that end, my more recent designs have been based on a "no mod" approach—that is, they utilize nothing but standard stock track parts. Some of my earlier plans required the fabrication of customized track sections to solve particularly tricky problems; however, even these designs would be useful to those modelers with some basic cutting and splicing skills. In short, my Track Planning Ideas sub-site can provide starting points for a wide variety of layouts and builder skill sets.