The Art of Meccano
Both art and Meccano imitate nature. From the same small components, large, complex structures evolve. And the larger and more complex, the more different in form and style they become from each other. One-cell creatures are much alike, yet elephants, antelopes and zebras are not. So too, when Meccano's 426 base elements are combined, an infinite diversity of models results.
In high art, the style of the artist transcends the subject. A great painter's work is never a "picture”; it is a Rembrant or a Constable, whether a portrait or landscape. So are the styles of different Meccanomen distinctive, even when subjects are the same. Is one style better than another? There are many criteria for a good scale model: mechanisms must be well-engineered, the model must be visually attractive, and the prototype must be instantly recognisable. It is in satisfying the last two that Meccano is not a science or a branch of technology - it is an art.
Meccano is intrinsically aesthetically pleasing, a fact recognised by the makers who used it well in its presentation. Models, even simple ones, which exploit the native beauty of the parts and colours please the most, and best achieve it when parts are used sparingly and appropriately for a purpose. To make a model realistic, to make it capture the essence of its prototype, goes beyond producing a scaled-down replica. It is here that science ends and the artistic skill of the modeller takes over. Nothing in nature can be scaled down, and any attempt to do so produces something different from the original. To a literal view, Meccano, with all its holes and bolt heads cannot resemble anything but itself. A prototype can only be represented in Meccano, and detail that is merely suggested or omitted altogether can add more to overall realism than that reproduced in a concrete way. Conversely, a slight exaggeration of an important feature can appear more correct than true scale.
Three prize-winning models of locomotives by our members come to mind; similar in scale, subject and operation, but nevertheless very different. The first, in pristine yellow and zinc is a supremely attractive model. The second was hurriedly assembled from dull, old red and green parts. The third, in contract, is of gleaming new Exacto, with no detail spared, and perfect in every way. Yet it is the second, whether viewed from near or far that captures the subject, while the others are just models. And no rule of science can say why.
The creative potential of Meccano enables it to express many things. It can say something revealing and new about a prototype or the glory of our industrial past. It can rekindle the best of boyhood. It can be humorous or even a parody of itself, as Pat Edkins shows. It can be a celebration of its own beauty. That is the art of Meccano.