First of all, apologies to those of you, my dear readers, who left comments on my previous post. For some reason, I haven't been able to reply, and you must think I am terribly rude. If I manage to figure our what's wrong, I will reply properly. Meanwhile, thank you for your support. This is the first time I am dealing with a valuable vintage item, and I want to be careful and respectful, but still restore as much as possible. There seem to be strong feelings against doing anything at all to vintage objects, but so far I haven't done anything irreversible.
There are still several exterior details in need of attention. One of the supports on a bay window is missing.
Beams around the newly installed window are missing, and in the same picture you can see that one of the garage door knobs is missing.
One problem is that most of my supplies are in storage, including a vast
collection of old rusty nails. I don't think I have a nail exactly
matching the existing one, but I may have two suitable nails. However,
this will have to wait.
The front step is missing. Interestingly enough, I have found pictures on the web with and without the step. But you see clearly that something had been glued there. Also the little window left of the front door is broken.
I discovered a mysterious hole in the recess above the front door. You can clearly see traces of a washer.
I was puzzled, because you cannot see any such detail in frontal images, until I found a picture taken from this angle, and it was a hook. There is a hook inside the house to fasten the left-hand front. This hook would fasten the right-hand front. Now I understand why the right-hand front won't stay properly closed. I swear that I have recently seen a picture of a Triang hook for sale on the web and happily told myself that I didn't need it. Now I do, and I cannot find it. However, I have a hook like this in my stored-away supplies, so some time in the future I will put it in.
I am sure I will continue discovering small faults and finding ways to mend them. This even before I venture inside.
I started with the support (I am sure there is a more appropriate word for this architectural feature). Again, I don't have adequate materials at hand, so it may be a temporary solution. It is also next to impossible to match the colour. I had to repaint several times before it was somewhat similar. Luckily, it's not a hugely conspicuous feature. There must be a colour-matching software, but I have not achieved that level of sophistication yet. Maybe when I am renovating my fifteenth Triang I can try it. I have also read some advice on renovations, and one suggestion was using pastel chalk. I have my chalks in storage, like so many other stuff, and it feels unnecessary to buy more. But I might.
Next, I made a front step, which was easy. This time I didn't even try to match colour. I don't like the colour of the large step anyway, so may repaint both or make flagstones. From the images on the web, it's impossible to say what the "original" is. I will have to do more research. In some pictures I have so far found, the little window is to the right of the door, and in others, on the left, like mine. How come?
I then started to make the beams around the right-hand window, in the same technique I made the missing timbre-frame gable beams, but when I looked to check how exactly the beams were mitred, I discovered that they weren't. The whole surround was cut from a single piece of card!
Now, this both made things simpler and more complicated. To begin with, I cut a paper template, just like I did with the window.
Next, I cut a frame from card - as usual, recycling an old notebook. It was not as hard and time-consuming as cutting out the twelve lights in the window.
I then painted the frame, trying to match the colour as close as possible, which is close to impossible - no pun intended. However, this frame will not connect to any other detail of the same colour so unless you know, you won't notice. I put the frame under a pile of heavy books to dry flat.
As I removed the remnants of the original frame, I was not surprised to find that is was attached to the wall with nails, because the other frames were made in the same way. Beautiful, old rusty nails.
You can also see in this picture the original colour of the wall which suggests a) that the frame has been damaged for a long time, and b) that the whole house is dirty as compared to the original. Next question: shall I try to clean it carefully? Maybe not. These cleaner bits will be covered by the frame anyway.
I wonder whether there are courses for dollhouse conservation. There must be. Maybe I should go and speak to someone at the Museum of Childhood in London. So far I have found tons of good advice on the web.
Anyway, here is the result:
What I should be able to do when I have my proper tools (you must be tired of me saying this!) is bend back the upper part of the green window surround. I believe it was damaged when the window was broken. But for the moment it will have to stay as it is.
Here is the outcome of exterior work so far. There is not much more I can do right now. Unless you know what I have done, you may not notice any difference, but I am extremely proud of my work.
Showing posts with label timber frame. Show all posts
Showing posts with label timber frame. Show all posts
Sunday, 28 April 2019
Triang house: further exterior details
Labels:
1950s,
exterior,
renovation,
timber frame,
Triang,
vintage,
window
Sunday, 21 April 2019
Collection and renovation
I am not a collector. I have some valuable antique pieces that I paid a fortune for, but I use them in various projects alongside things that I have made or upcycled. Sometimes just one antique object in a room creates the whole atmosphere.
I am glad that I am not a collector, because I know myself well, and if I start collecting seriously, I will get stuck and spend all my money and have no peace of mind until I have collected whatever I am collecting. For instance, I have collected all House of Miniatures kits (except one that is very rare and therefore ridiculously expensive when it turns up on ebay; I have only seen it twice). I now have many duplicates, but I am no longer maniacal about having them all. Besides, if I were a collector, I would keep them in unopened sealed boxes. Instead, I build them and use them in my projects.
With my recent purchase, I am venturing into the dangerous path of collecting. A piece such as a Triang dollhouse is valuable - both in monetary sense and as a cultural artifact - because it is old and shabby and authentic.With many of my previous projects, I gave no thought to possible cultural value of my pieces because there wasn't any. I upcycled my Tudor house, adding both exterior and interior details, replacing a plain wooden fireplace with an intricate inglenook, and more. With my retro house, I saved it from ruins and felt free to do whatever I wanted with it. With Helen Hall, I turned a plastic horror into a lovely house that the former owner wanted back. And of course I have built Womble Hall from scratch, and although I aspire to be period-correct, I am not damaging anything old.
It will be different with Triang. It's tempting to paint it, replace worn-out wallpaper and flooring. But it would be profoundly wrong. I fell for it because it was old and authentic, and it would be a sacrilege to subject it to a makeover. But what about a gentle restoration? They do restore paintings and other objects in museums. They are going to rebuild Notre-Dame! So if my ambition is to restore the house to its original shape (rather than renovate it in a 21st-century style) then I believe it's justifiable. For instance, there are beams missing on the timber-framed gables. I only noticed it when I brought the house home and inspected it (might have been a negotiating point with the shop owner).
Now, a collector would probably say: the missing beams add to the authenticity and value of the item. But I am not a collector, and I want my house to look if not new, but well taken care of. It's easy to make timber-frame beams, although it took me some time to match the colour. One day when I am gone and my children get rid of the house, a collector would say: What kind of idiot replaced these beams! But until then, I will look at my house and feel happy.

There are more details to repair and replace, so come back soon.
I am glad that I am not a collector, because I know myself well, and if I start collecting seriously, I will get stuck and spend all my money and have no peace of mind until I have collected whatever I am collecting. For instance, I have collected all House of Miniatures kits (except one that is very rare and therefore ridiculously expensive when it turns up on ebay; I have only seen it twice). I now have many duplicates, but I am no longer maniacal about having them all. Besides, if I were a collector, I would keep them in unopened sealed boxes. Instead, I build them and use them in my projects.
With my recent purchase, I am venturing into the dangerous path of collecting. A piece such as a Triang dollhouse is valuable - both in monetary sense and as a cultural artifact - because it is old and shabby and authentic.With many of my previous projects, I gave no thought to possible cultural value of my pieces because there wasn't any. I upcycled my Tudor house, adding both exterior and interior details, replacing a plain wooden fireplace with an intricate inglenook, and more. With my retro house, I saved it from ruins and felt free to do whatever I wanted with it. With Helen Hall, I turned a plastic horror into a lovely house that the former owner wanted back. And of course I have built Womble Hall from scratch, and although I aspire to be period-correct, I am not damaging anything old.
It will be different with Triang. It's tempting to paint it, replace worn-out wallpaper and flooring. But it would be profoundly wrong. I fell for it because it was old and authentic, and it would be a sacrilege to subject it to a makeover. But what about a gentle restoration? They do restore paintings and other objects in museums. They are going to rebuild Notre-Dame! So if my ambition is to restore the house to its original shape (rather than renovate it in a 21st-century style) then I believe it's justifiable. For instance, there are beams missing on the timber-framed gables. I only noticed it when I brought the house home and inspected it (might have been a negotiating point with the shop owner).
Now, a collector would probably say: the missing beams add to the authenticity and value of the item. But I am not a collector, and I want my house to look if not new, but well taken care of. It's easy to make timber-frame beams, although it took me some time to match the colour. One day when I am gone and my children get rid of the house, a collector would say: What kind of idiot replaced these beams! But until then, I will look at my house and feel happy.

There are more details to repair and replace, so come back soon.
Labels:
1950s,
collecting,
dollhouse,
gable,
renovation,
timber frame,
Triang,
vintage
Saturday, 29 September 2012
Timber framing
Tudor houses are timber-framed (or half timber-framed). My house was timber-framed on the outside, and it had ceiling beams, but it had no frames on the inside.
I cut the unicorn tapestry from a catalogue, and two buttons with crests fit in nicely. But you have surely noticed a very authentic Tudor bench. In the meantime I had finally been to a very dangerous place, Maple Street dollhouse shop. It is just half an hour by car from where I live, and they have everything. Of course they have everything online, but I am less tempted shopping online than when I am there ans want to buy everything. But on that occasion I just bought a couple of Tudor pieces to add to authenticity. I would very soon learn how to make almost as nice things myself.
This is the upper floor, also known as solar. Note that there is no fireplace in this room. Tudor houses were cold. I knew already how to make naturally looking timber frames after I had done my antique shop. I used wooden strips that I cut uneven with a craft knife and hammered with a rubber hammer.
Then I did the same on the middle floor, which is the Great Hall.
I cut the unicorn tapestry from a catalogue, and two buttons with crests fit in nicely. But you have surely noticed a very authentic Tudor bench. In the meantime I had finally been to a very dangerous place, Maple Street dollhouse shop. It is just half an hour by car from where I live, and they have everything. Of course they have everything online, but I am less tempted shopping online than when I am there ans want to buy everything. But on that occasion I just bought a couple of Tudor pieces to add to authenticity. I would very soon learn how to make almost as nice things myself.
I bought a table, a chair (which was a rarity in Tudor houses; only the master would have a chair), a bench and a stool. They were all kits, and I assembled and stained them. I borrowed some utensils from the Victorian house, things that looked like pewter, which they would have in a Tudor household.
Labels:
dollhouse,
furniture,
Great Hall,
miniature,
renovation,
solar,
timber frame,
Tudor
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