Reverse Engineering Steam Wars

Apparently at some point in my young Hieronymus Bosch, Magritte, and Dali-fueled brain I pictured a massive metal machine, similar to knight-in-armor, chugging smoke and swarming with tiny human combatants. This was only one element in a large mural I painted for high school art class. It also had, apparently, a giant bird. I know this because a girl in my class referred to the piece thereafter as “your chicken painting.” Never mind that the giant bird was not necessarily a chicken, or that the whole piece was choked with swirling imagery, all manner of strangeness, in flights of Boschian subservience.

As I recall, the metallic giant’s helmet was flat on top, possibly like the medieval great helm, with its top platform ringed with protective balustrade (naturally) for the sake of its battling persons.

1. How to build a steam rig. Part one.

As an adult, my paintings wandered through surrealism and science fiction-fantasy, but steam giants kept creeping back in, in various guises. At first, they were clearly fantastic, with imagery dominating common sense; no physics here. But then I endeavored to ground them somewhat, as though they had been part of the actual 1890s. My machines, always operated by a person or crew, took on more practical aspects. I wanted them to be seen as real fighting machines; more tank or battleship than giant -- as though Victorian technology had taken a wildly strange but exciting turn. Like an arms race that developed vertically.

I wanted there to be various styles, relating to warriors of old, from ancient to late medieval: Greek, Roman, Viking, knight and so on. These steam rigs (as I began to call them) would be international, but the styles would not be restricted accordingly. Thus, both Prussia and the United States might produce lines with a Spartan look, while Great Britain has a rig class fashioned after Henry VIII’s armor.

The look was dictated chiefly by the “head,” which I called the headcab; probably the most distinctive part of the fighting machine. This is where the rig’s captain and pilot (or pilots, depending on the size) would sit. The design integration of helmet and command center was something I found particularly inspiring.

My personal favorite of these was based on the Corinthian helmet, the ancient Greek headpiece with nose-guard, cheek plates, almond-shaped eye slits and a high crest, or comb, usually topped by horsehair. Even as a kid I was fascinated by these helmets, by their extremely dynamic lines. I’m guessing a lot of kids were. They’re just so… cool. Transforming it into a fighting rig headcab was quite satisfying. The operators are seated such that the eyes become their two windows. The comb on top becomes a kind of winding platform, with the horsehair replaced by wrought iron balustrade; its foremost tip an optimal observation post. The crestwalk (as I call it) curves down the back of the cab, bending to the right, all the way around to the side of the head, ending with a portholed hatch leading into the cab. The steps of this crestwalk bend in a manner that would make M.C. Escher dizzy.

Another element dictating the look was the day-to-day operation, as I imagined it. The larger the rig, the bigger the crew. Thus inter-rig communication with the headcab was via speaking tube (aka voicepipe) as well as my favorite, the classic brass engine order telegraph. Most people are familiar with both of these as longtime staples of ship communication. I find something about this process of communicating exhilarating. It heightens the excitement, especially in the thick of the action.

2. A man with a shovel standing in a hole.

I’ve always equated the “arms” of the steam rig to the workings of cranes and excavators, particularly the wonderful early steam-powered ones. In fact, I decided to call them “cranes” (“arms” is a Steam Force insult, mister!) and the operators, “cranesmen.” Naturally, there’s a port and starboard cranesman, working in a cramped cab located in what we’d consider the shoulder.

This development got a major boost when I worked construction for a while; a sprawling housing project, from scratch to finish. While I was just an all-purpose grunt, the best times were when I worked with the heavy equipment operators. I was the guy who would jump in a large hole (or climb down into it), and poke around with a shovel to make sure we weren’t about to crunch a gas or water main (that would be frowned upon). Digging around in a hole while tons of machinery hung suspended above me was something that stuck with me. But it was observing the operators’ work in the cabs that informed a lot of my vision for the running of steam rigs.

Coincidentally, the dozer operator was this heavyset guy, really good guy as I recall, with that distinctive beard known as a Shenandoah, often associated with old-time whalers (think Captain Ahab). I mean, the guy looked pure 1800s. I have a strong suspicion he became something of the visual model for the character of Chief Fireman Duff.

3. Add a little locomotive, dash of steamship, stir.

I’ll just bet if the people who don’t think about trains thought about trains they would realize that they love trains. How can they not? Especially those humungous locomotives from right about the peak of steam power.

I can’t talk steam rig without a nod to those beloved giants of the rails. Their influence is not so much visual, as visceral. When I hear steam rigs in my mind (is that just me?), it’s inspired by the magnificent orchestra that is steam locomotive sounds: the rhythmic chugging, the chuffing, the quiet simmer of an engine idling in a station, punctuated by that occasional big gasp of steam. And the whistles, man, those whistles; that shrill electrifying blast.

It made good sense that most steam rigs require a whistle, whether to signal or to strike fear. That would be blasted from the headcab of course, which would also have something similar to the classic ship’s bell hanging near the captain’s seat; its dings used to signal a number of things to the rig crew.

Continuing with the subject of sound, most larger rigs are also equipped with a megaphone, usually attached to a railing or bulwark on the headcab. This is for hailing other rigs as well personnel on the ground. There is of course no other way to hear a person over the deafening crank of engine and screech of metal.

Besides the bell, the steamship influence is also obvious as we get down to the belly of the steam rig (certainly the larger ones) where we find the engine and stokehold where stokers furiously shovel coal into the furnace. This carries with it a certain infectious dynamic, particularly in the height of battle, as the headcab communicates with the chief fireman who berates his stokers to increase their output.

And while my need for practicality certainly had its influence, I also took great pleasure in allowing for that Victorian elegance to somewhat “frost the cake” as it were; gleaming brass, and serpentine balustrades over grimy weathered boilerplate with rivets.

4. We can all use a nice frothy mug of low tech right about now.

It might sound like Steam Wars was born fully-grown, but I can assure you the details of this world and this whole “steam rig thing” developed over time, as I was always working on something else. Steam Wars was that pet project, that giant sculpture I walked over to between/during writing, painting, acting or directing gigs and just slapped on another piece of clay.

One of the things that has always kept me coming back to it is that yearning for low tech. At a time when, more than ever, everything is at our beck and call, when entertainment continues to belabor the futuristic, the high tech, I personally feel a need for its opposite. For the characters in Steam Wars, everything must be earned. And nothing comes easy. To that end, Steam Wars stresses the challenge of the incredibly dangerous existence that is crewing a steam rig. Desertion rate is high, life expectancy low. Good crew is hard to find. Life inside is cramped, noisy, often messy, always difficult.

Steampunk is fabulous. And I am so supercharged to see how widespread and popular it continues to become. Much of it deals with Victorian society and of course that’s absolutely fine.

I just want to see how the other half of steampunk lives.