Our friend Roger died on 30 September. He was born 1 May
1940. There was a memorial service to celebrate Roger’s life at Campoverde
Church on Monday, 7 November at 11:30. Members of Chorale (Christine’s
choir), Vivace, Coro Pilar and others sang, and Jennifer sang a solo,
‘Where’er You Walk’.
Order of Service - p2 - RAE - Roger Andrew Eames
As his obituary says, he was “a brilliant husband, dad, and
grandpa who will be very sorely missed.”
Roger bravely battled bladder cancer for 6 years before it claimed
him. He was full of courage, showed wisdom with a twinkle in his eye, and was a
purveyor of “fabulous” jokes. His various pursuits revealed his endless
patience: a wordsmith not averse to the odd pun, he was also an excellent
model-maker and incredible jazz bass player and producer.
Six years ago I wrote an article about Roger that was
published in the local magazine, The New
Coastal Press, June 2010, under the
title ‘A Model Retirement’. This is a fair portion of it, which illustrates his
artistry, skill and infinite patience:
Roger Eames has three passions, it seems: his wife Christine, music and his
modelling. The last developed from his childhood interest in model railways.
While
living in Northampton, he met an ex engineer called Arthur who offered to make
glass display cases for him. ‘Indeed, quite a lot of modellers were Reverends
or engineers,’ he says. Roger pointed out that the Pendon model museum,
established in 1954, was and still is an inspiration to any modeller. Many
excellent images of model scenes and dioramas can be viewed at
www.pendonmuseum.com.
For about
forty years Roger has created models – some eighty of them, in thin glass
cases, their edges soldered with copper. They’re attractive to look at and you
can spend considerable time studying the exquisite detail.
‘It’s
essential to plan ahead,’ he says. ‘I measure everything first on card and
create a mock-up using Publisher, computer software. Remember, these buildings
are 1:72 scale.’ The finished product will be semi-relief – false front, if you
like – and three to four inches deep.
His source
material is usually a number of photographs, mixing and matching. He’ll begin
with a prototype and work from there, altering as appropriate. ‘I’m very
self-critical,’ he says. ‘Sometimes, I’m not satisfied, no matter how long I’ve
spent on the piece, and it has to go – though I’ll butcher it to preserve
certain items, of course!’ It’s quite satisfying, as often the process entails
a certain amount of problem solving. ‘It certainly isn’t model-making by
numbers!’
The
materials he has used over the years vary. ‘I’ve tried to keep abreast by
reading railways magazines.’ Straws and spaghetti might serve as pipes or
architectural embellishments; tealeaves mimic ivy, small pieces of Rutland
oolite stone and cork can give a faithful reproduction of old stone walls. Care
must also be taken regarding the potential danger of adhesive fumes and paint
smells.
In the old
days, as if emulating Blue Peter presenters, he used brown sticky paper. Also,
he’d utilise poster paints, oil, cardboard, Perspex and lichen. Now, he employs
acrylic paint, modern glues, etched brass plates and obtains many of his materials
via the Internet. For example, Spanish paints from the Vallejo Company offer
over 200 different colours. Websites such as scalelink.co.uk are useful
providers of items, such as bricks and stones, providing the scale is right.
‘I much
prefer to depict real textures you can feel,’ he says. ‘I’m not keen on printed
facsimiles of surfaces.’ Some items are only available from specialist
suppliers nowadays, such as self-adhesive paving, but given the time and
inclination he will make them himself.
A single
building can take from two months to two years from conception to end. In his
individual miniature scenes, Roger has to have an eye for transposing – whether
that’s trees, post boxes or people – thus moving them to different positions
from those depicted in the source photo.
Like many
hobbies, it’s a solitary pursuit. ‘I find working on these models is an
antidote to music-making, which is a more social activity.’ While working in
the BBC – on their radio music programmes – Roger took a sabbatical and was
part of a craft promotion in Japan. Various British craftsmen and women
exhibited their talents – jewellery makers and model boat builders, for
example. Perhaps not surprisingly, the Japanese were fascinated with
miniaturization, watching Roger on the stand as he built a model with the aid
of a magnifying glass. Roger sold twenty models and was even commissioned to
provide others.
Some of
Roger’s models were displayed in the Savoy Hotel – a row of cottages, a pub and
one was bought by Janet Jackson. Roger has been commissioned to replicate
existing properties which entails making measurements he can then reduce in
scale for his model.
The amount
of detail is quite remarkable, whether that’s a Vernacular arch or Georgian and
Victorian buildings from London, completing the scene, an Austin 1934 taxi will
be thoroughly appropriate to the era. Street signs and posters are somewhat
easier these days, thanks to the computer.
Often,
behind the curtains, furniture can be glimpsed, walls decorated, lights courtesy
of fibre optics and LEDs. He’s particularly proud of his pub, the Ruddles Arms
with its drinkers inside.
Roger
created a film studio for his son Dominic, who is involved in filmmaking. For
his son Miles, he created a pub with a band playing inside. For his
granddaughter Sophie he is creating a ladies’ clothing boutique. For a close
friend who was a Methodist minister he built a chapel and adjacent manse.
Usually, he likes to include two or three figures to represent life and action.
In effect,
these models are slices from reality.
Still on
the drawing board are Victorian shops, a garage, and a ballroom. ‘One day,’ he
muses, ‘I’d like to exhibit my collection. One day soon.’
The theory
goes that retirement was supposed to provide more free time, yet Roger is a
popular and successful jazz musician and writes for a local newspaper as well.
He has just celebrated his seventieth birthday and shows no sign of letting up:
‘I’d like to make models of the houses we’ve lived in – and there are lots! – but
I don’t seem to have the time.’
***
Until recently, Roger and Christine played live jazz at El
Pescadito restaurant, Mil Palmeras.
R.I.P., Roger.
