Bio-logic: Equine Anatomy 101

Introduction

Deciphering the equine's structure and mechanics is no easy task. The animal is complicated and nuanced in design resulting in an interdependent network of mechanisms that stabilize and move him along. What's more, science is unraveling more about equine mechanics every day, adding to the complex mix and throwing in a medley of surprises to boot. 

Yet having a firm grasp of equine structure is fundamental to equine realism; otherwise we risk errors in the technical accuracy that underlies our work. For this reason, let's explore some of the basics of equine anatomy and biomechanics to help clarify the major systems of the animal. It's by no means comprehensive and there are a multitude of other features than influence his build and movement, but these ideas provide a good springboard for further study.

So let's go!…

Head

As a source for such rich expression and breed type, we naturally gravitate towards the horse’s head. But what’s most important for an artist to understand are the evolutionary mechanisms that created that animal's head in the first place. First and foremost then, the head is an essential component for life. Now that may seem ridiculously obvious, but consider how wrapped up artists get with rhetoric or stylizations regarding "breediness" of the head. So it’s a good idea to remember that the head is the singular source for:

• Thought
• Personality
• Air
• Water
• Food
• Sight
• Hearing
• Taste
• Smell
• Balance
• Vocalizations

The head is also the source for some elements of body language and acts as an important counter–balance to the body as well. So in a nutshell, the head is the primary pathway for essential biological functions that allow the animal to live. Plus, also consider that the equine head is purely functional neither carrying ornamentation to attract a mate nor appendages for battle or display such as horns, antlers, tusks, etc. It’s built for an animal meant for speed on the open plains—economical in design and no–nonsense. So it bears to reason that an artist should be adequately versed in equine evolution if for nothing more than to keep the biological importance of the equine head close to heart. 

As for its structure, the skull is comprised of two parts: 

• The upper jaw and cranium
• The lower jaw or mandible. 

The upper jaw is slightly wider than the lower jaw, and the back of the jaw aligns with the back of the zygomatic arches, in front of the ear. There’s only one joint in the head, for the jaw, which is located behind the eye, resulting in the entire jaw dropping when the joint is articulated; the mouth doesn't open like a trapdoor at the chin. The jaw can open and close with a limited amount of lateral play, and he chews in a circular motion, not up and down. And when he chews, the cavity behind the eye pops in and out (as do the side cheek muscles). That's the coronoid process of the mandible popping in and out of the temporal fossa synched with the chewing motion. 

The skull is mostly subcutaneous on the dorsal aspect and mostly subcutaneous muscle on the ventral part. For this reason, we need to sculpt the bony parts convincingly as bone and the fleshy bits as flesh; otherwise our head won't be believable. For instance, the hourglass–shaped nasal bone should appear hard while the cheek's buccinators should appear fleshy. In contrast, the ears, nostrils, and lower nasal portion are made of cartilage. The horse has approximately 36-40 teeth; six incisors on both top and bottom, three premolars on either jaw, top and bottom and three molars on either jaw, top and bottom. Erupting between the ages of 3.5–5 years, both genders have a two pairs of “tushes” (or canines), but these rarely erupt in mares. The tushes on the top jaw are set back farther than the tushes on the bottom jaw.

Generally speaking, the alignment of the bulb of the ear, under the eye and under the lower rim of the nostril form a straight line; the corners of the eye are angled at an approximate 40˚–44˚ angle to this alignment (drafters tend to have the more acute angle). Also, parallel to this ear–eye–nostril alignment is the angle of the mouth and the approximate angle of the teardrop bone of the jowls. However, the ear–eye–nostril alignment is only a general guide. In many Iberian or Draft breeds, the head is arched or sub–convex, in which the entire nasal portion of the skull drops downwards, giving the type a distinctive “ram head” appearance. In contrast, Arabians and some pony breeds have a dished head in which the nasal portion is lifted upwards. In contrast, stock breeds and Thoroughbreds tend to have straighter heads. Each horse’s head is unique and distinctive, rich with idiosyncrasis, but this alignment is a good template to get a bearing for sculpture. 

As for the eyes, they are truly the “windows of the soul," and, of course, the horse’s eye is supremely expressive, revealing his focus of attention and changes in his mood, especially through the brows and eyelids. The eye also helps us to duplicate the soul of a living animal so necessary for that special anima. It sits inside the ocular orbit on either side of the skull. The eyes are set laterally on the sides of the skull and protrude outward. As a result, he has nearly a total of 350˚ field of vision with only a narrow blindspot immediately in front of and below his nose, and few feet behind his tail, requiring him to move his head to see these blindspots. But in all fairness, the exact properties of equine vision are still largely unknown and continually debated. Perhaps new technologies will shed fresh light on how a horse sees his world. 

The equine eye is the largest globe of any land mammal. However, an important point to understand is that all horses have a similarly sized globe. It’s the breed differences in the shape of the lids, the set of the orbit, and peculiarities in other surrounding fleshy features that make an eye appear larger, rounder, almond–shaped, smaller, “toad eyed," etc. In other words, an Arabian doesn’t have a bigger globe than a Clydesdale, only a different way in which the skull and flesh encase it. The Arabian's skull is also much smaller than that of a Clydesdale, making his eye appear larger in comparison. In addition, the equine eye isn’t shaped round like a human eye, but oval or oblong, like a large egg, with the lower part of the globe slightly flattened. 

A complex structure, much of it beyond the scope of this discussion, but artistically speaking, there’re some specific eye structures of importance such as the following: 

• Nictitans membrane (third eyelid): A triangle mass of soft tissue with a T–shaped shield of cartilage embedded within it. When the lids blink, it sweeps across the orb, removing debris from the eyeball and distributing tears. This structure is unique to the horse and only a few other animals. 
• Lacrimal caruncle: A small dark pad in the anterior corner of the eye that drains excess fluids from the eye.
• Upper and Lower Lids: Protecting the eye with reactionary closure, these lids shut fast and firmly. The upper lid has as straighter curve while the lower lid has a deeper curve.
• Eyelashes: Being sensitive, they trigger a blink reflex to protect the eye.
• Whiskers: Surrounding the eye are a few long whiskers used as feelers for eye protection.
• Medial Canthus: Front corner of the eye.
• Lateral Canthus: Back corner of the eye.
• Cornea and Aqueous Chamber: Forms the round shape of the eye ball.
• Sclera: Comprising approximately 75% of the globe, this is the white portion seen when the horse rotates his eye. All muscles responsible for moving the eyeball within the socket attach to the sclera. It has a blood supply and sometimes a mottled pigmentation around the iris.
• Iris: The colored tissue surrounding the pupil that constricts or dilates it to accommodate light intensities. 
• Lens and Pupil: The “void” for light to penetrate. It appears clear, dark, or “mirrory” in normal light. The lens has tiny muscles to change its shape to alter focusing abilities at different distances.
• Nigra Bodies (or corpora nigra or granula iridica): Normal in horses, these small dark folds or bundles of tissue lay on the iris. They’re usually found on the upper part of the pupil, but sometimes on the lower part as well. They’re believed to be sunshades for the eye, guarding the lower portion of the retina from overhead sunlight while grazing.
• Extraocular muscles: Within the orbit are several muscles which attach to the sclera that move the eye within the socket, in all directions. These muscles are controlled by the cranial nerves, which come directly from the brain.

A wad of fat lies behind the eye (which shrinks in older horses to deepen the “salt cellar”) because there's no post–orbital wall behind the equine eye. Indeed if the fat was removed, we'd see the back of the eyeball. 

The equine pupil is an elongated oval when contracted and a softer oval when more dilated, but not round; it shouldn’t resemble a our eye, or a dog's eye. The pupil indicates eye rotation in concert with the sclera since it moves in accordance with the entire globe; the pupil cannot move or rotate within the iris independently. 

The eyelids help to protect the eye and sweep debris from the cornea. The upper eyelid tends to do most of the motion while the lower eyelid remains relatively stationary. The upper lid has long stiff eyelashes which cross each other like a trellis while the lower lid has only a few.

Equine eyes have a wide range of motion, helping to add expression to his face and amplify vision, and the sclera often indicates the position of the eye in the most obvious way. The eyes can move together forward or backward (sclera to the back of the iris or the front of the iris respectively), upwards or downwards (sclera under the iris or above the iris) or both can rotate around, especially when the head is turning or something is oscillating in from of him (one eye looking forward and the other backwards, like a cat clock). An interesting point to consider is that the horse can automatically retract the globe back into its socket if triggered by pain (or disease such as tetanus), stress, or fear, sometimes causing the third eyelid to cover the cornea. This reaction is induced by the retractor muscle connecting the back of the globe to the inner surface of the orbit.

Now for the ears. They can be tricky to sculpt owing to their delicacy and complicated curved structure. That said, however, they’re an important point of equine expression and communication with a plethora of nuanced movements, so perfecting their qualities in sculpture is an important skill to learn. Indeed, we can deduce a lot about a sculptor's ability by the quality of their sculpted ears, and a lot about a painter's skill by how they paint them, too.

The ear's structure is as follows:

• Auricle or Pinea: Made of cartilage and delicately curved. The three cartilages associated with the pinea are the conchal cartilage, annual cartilage, and the scutiform cartilage. The conchal cartilage is trumpet shaped and responsible for the visible shape of the ear. The upper portion is thinner and flexible while the lower portion is thick and strong, serving as attachment for most of the ear muscles. The conchal cartilage covers the annual cartilage with a prolongation which is covered by muscles and the parotid gland. The annular cartilage is a small circle encasing the auditory process of the skull and helps to connect the conchal cartilage to the bone. The scuitform cartilage is a small plate on the temporal muscle and acts as a fixed location for muscle attachments of the ear.
• Middle ear: Contains the ear drum which transfers sound waves into the inner ear. 
• Inner ear: Fluid filled, it translates sound waves into impulses the brain can process. It’s also important for maintaining balance.
• Hair: Inside the pinea, the hair is fuzzy and long, protecting the inner structures (unless clipped, revealing the delicate ridges inside the ears).

Seated behind the zygomatic arches and the back of the mandible, and in front of the occipital crest and on the crown, the pinea aligns with the ear–eye–nostril line. This alignment of the ear really doesn’t vary, unlike the ear–eye–nostril alignment, because the seat of the ear is an anatomical feature rather than a conformational characteristic. Furthermore, note the delicate folds and the “V” formed at the base of the pinea, where the two rims meet. Also note how this “V” changes as the ear is rotated. Additionally, the medial rim is slightly rounded while the lateral rim is flatter. 

Only their cartilaginous attachment to the skull’s ear canal and the ear muscles themselves lash the ear onto the head so, surprisingly, the pinea floats on top of the underlying muscles like a hockey puck on ice. This lets the ear have a fluid range of motion, and can even be slightly drawn up or down. They're delicately fluted, mobile, and often busy, moving independently of each other. 

The ears are also an obvious tool for communication between horses, and are a good indicator of his emotional state, providing clues as to what he’s thinking or feeling, lending a tremendous amount of expression and realism to a piece if created skillfully. It’s also believed that where he directs his ears is an indication of what his eyes are focusing on. So to increase the authenticity of sculpted ears, these following additional details can be powerful tools:

• Wrinkles typical lay where the pinea meets the skull when rotation folds the skin. 
• Veins on the pinea, up the back of the flute and around the ear bulb. Veined ears really lend a sense of thin skin and fine hair or to imply athletic effort by reinforcing the visual of a pounding heart. 
• Fuzzy, unclipped ears can be a wonderful touch for drafters, ponies, feral horses, or for those horses depicted in a natural state. 
• Minor “faults” such as Lop Ears can add a bit of character to a piece meant to be eccentric. 
• Damaged ears such as nicks, cuts, missing tips, etc. can imply a narrative history which might prove effective for sculptures of feral horses, ranch horses, or rough stock. 
• Ear tags might also be accurate for certain pieces. 
• Twitchy ears can add a lot of life and character to a sculpture, imparting genuine equine character and behavior.

Ear size and shape are also a function of breed, gender, and even age. For example, some pony breeds require ears to be a certain length such as the Shetland whose ear should be no more than five inches long. The actual shape of the ears can be a point of breed type, too, such as the curly ears on a Kathwari or Marwari, or the delicately curved ears on an Arabian. Also, mares usually have longer ears than stallions while a foal’s ears are often proportionally larger than those of an adult. However, sometimes ears may appear to be placed higher on the crown on some breeds such as the ASB, Kathwari, Marwari, and Akhal–Teke, but this is more an illusion due to the often more narrow structure of the skull in this area with such breeds. 

Now for the nostrils. They can be a bit fiddly to sculpt, can't they? That's because of their mobility and fleshy nature. Yet it’s important to get them correct because they're a lovely visual line at the end of the muzzle that instill a sense of living vitality.

The nasal septum, the cartilage of the nasal cavity, provides the initial framework for the nostrils. It projects forward from the end of the nasal bone to attach above the incisors. Anatomically then, the nostrils fill in the large cavity on either side of the nasal bone, channeling air directly into the sinuses through the length of the head and into the lungs. The nostrils—and in particular the sinuses—serve to warm or cool, and moisten incoming air along with filtering out pollutants before it reaches the lungs.

The shape of the nostril is achieved by two rims encircling the nasal cavity. The anterior section is cartilage (the Alar cartilage, or sometimes called comma–cartilage) and is comma–shaped with a thick, curved, rounded upper head and a thinner, swooping lower portion ending in a tail bulb. The alar cartilage is easily palpated while its bulbous tailhead can often be seen as a slight bulge immediately behind the lower portion of the posterior rim with which it connects. Viewed from the front, the Alar cartilages form an “x” owing to their connected back–to–back portions that attach to the nasal septum and the lateral cartilage of the nasal bone, with which they articulate. Also note the network of fleshy wrinkles between the comma cartilages, when seen from the front, and how they change when the nostrils change shape.

As for the posterior rim, it's comprised of gooshy flesh and so is more swooping, elastic, and uniform in shape. It connects at the top of the Alar cartilage, where it forms the upper fold or “v," and the tail of the Alar cartilage, where it forms a noticeable depression at rest. However, during exertion, the nostril may be so flared that this depression is stretched to flatten out and widen.

A thin canal from the eye’s lacrimal gland descends under the mucus membranes of the nasal cavity (nasolacrimal duct) to a small opening in the nostril. In this way, excess fluid of from the eye is drained through the nostril. 

So altogether, the equine nostril has no bones or boney connection to the skull, being only cartilage and flesh attached loosely by fibrous connections. Consequently, the nostrils are very mobile and flexible, capable of many shapes and sizes to accommodate mood or circumstance. For example, flaring into a rather large oval shape during physical exertion or to a pinched shape to snort and blow. The shape and orientation of the nostrils can also be a function of breed type. For example, Oriental breeds tend to have a more horizontally placed nostril while stock breeds may have a more vertically oriented one.

Also, where the two rims meet at the top, or "v," is relatively fixed while the rest of the nostril can be independently moved and shaped by the facial muscles connected to it. However, nostril motion is also synchronized with muzzle motions, particularly the mouth and upper lip. That said, the nostrils and mouth can be moved independently on both sides, creating some interesting expressions. Along those lines, horses don’t use their nostrils just to breath, but to communicate (puffs, snorting and blowing), scent the air (watch how they delicately quiver and dilate), convey his emotion (note how they morph in sympathy to what the horse is feeling), and even to clear the nasal passages (with that all–too–familiar snot blow). So it’s really important to pay attention to them when sculpting. 

The nostril (or nare) itself has two compartments, the true nostril and the false nostril (or nasal diverticulum), a unique fleshy feature. The true nostril leads directly into the nasal cavity of the sinus whereas the false nostril is a pouch above it, running from the lateral dorsal aspect of the posterior rim and forming a dead–end at the junction between the premaxillary and the nasal bone. Several muscles activate the false nostril, which can therefore capture air or contort or bulge in interesting ways during certain airflow conditions or during communications such as snorting. 

During exertion, the horse dilates his nostrils, pharynx (and nasopharynx), and larynx to intake more air. What’s interesting is that the motion of his body, particularly at the gallop, is synchronized with breathing. Specifically, during the suspension phase of the gallop, when his head is up and his gut is shifted backwards he’ll inhale then during the extension phase, when his head is down and his gut is shifted forwards, he’ll exhale. And the more rapid his strides, the more rapid is his breathing automatically becomes. And this is no easy feat! Indeed, during major exertion (like galloping), the wind streaming through the horse’s nasal passages rushes in at the astonishing speed of 400 mph. Now consider this…no wind that fast exists on the planet as current wind records are only 280 mph in Antartica and 318 mph in an F5 tornado. Furthermore, the intake of air is substantial. For example, a Thoroughbred at a full gallop requires 636–681 gallons of air per minute. That's a lot going on through the humble nostril! The horse truly is a marvel of bioengineering, isn't he?

Now as for the muzzle, it's blunt with a boxy, nearly prehensile lip. The skin of the lips is wrinkled, owning to their elasticity, and the skin is soft, warm, and velvety. There are more nerve endings in the skin of the muzzle than in the human finger, allowing him to explore and sort through things with great accuracy. Long whiskers protrude from the muzzle, growing from "whisker bumps" that serve as feelers. His lips are very expressive, indicating his emotional state. They may also twitch or the lower lip may droop or bob up and down if he's relaxed or dozing off. Also notice how the muzzle can show pleasure over a scratched itch, snarl when annoyed, become "pooky" when excited, droop pendulously when relaxed, or become tense when angry or stressed. Similarly, his chin can relax or tense up, lending more expression. Studying how a horse uses his muzzle to communicate his mood can reveal a lot of applications for sculpture.

He uses his lips to grasp and gather food, grinding it with his teeth and softening it with saliva. He also "mouths" objects to manipulate or explore them. Then when he drinks, he forms an "O" with his lips and sucks up water as through a straw, taking in gulps about one–half pint per swallow. The tongue acts like a suction pump to draw water in and the digastric sling works the hyoid apparatus for the "glug glug" motion that directs water into the pharynx and down the esophagus.

The muzzle can be a rather complicated area to sculpt owning to its subtle curves, texture, and flexibility. Things to note are the structural relationships between the lips. The anterior portion of the upper lip is often narrower than that of the lower lip, which tends to be broader. Likewise, at the corners of the mouth, the upper lip usually protrudes further out while that of the lower lip dip inwards. In short, the upper and lower lips are usually oriented in contrast to each other. Nonetheless, sometimes the upper and lower lips are of equal protrusion at the corners, depending on the individual nature of the horse's head. The one thing to really capture, however, is its fleshy, elastic, and soft quality in both sculpture and paintwork. 

The face also has a “Y” vein erupting from the end of the teardrop bone and nerves running from the front of the jaw to the back of the jaw. The "Y" vein is almost always seen though the nerves may or may not be, depending on circumstance. 

Lesson: The equine head is a study of economy. Every bit is there for a biological reason and so has very little fudge–factor for aesthetics or technical errors. Also, the head has only one joint, behind the eye, so the entire jaw must drop when the mouth is opened. 

Neck

The equine neck has seven cervical vertebrae forming an S–shaped curve deep inside the neck. It begins at the poll and terminates at the first thoracic vertebra, approximately mid-shoulder; it doesn't lie under the crest. This gives it an amoebic quality as the S–curve stretches to lengthen, compresses to tuck, and changes the shape of the neck depending on motion. 

The first two cervical vertebrae are of specific interest because their unique structure dictates equine neck articulation. The Atlas (first cervical vertebra) connects the head to the neck and is the shortest and broadest of the series (about the width of the brows). It's quickly identified by its prominent subcutaneous “wings” seen behind the ears. Its joint with the skull can only permit a “yes” motion. However, when the head is tucked, a little bit of side slippage is possible, referred to as "twirling of the head" in horsemanship. On the other hand, the Axis (second cervical vertebra), the longest vertebrae of the neck, articulates with the Atlas in a rotational screwdriver twisting "no" motion. Cervical vertebrae three through seven have a much greater range of motion and are the origin of much of the lateral neck motions we see. Working together, these mechanisms produce the neck movements so wonderful for sculpture. 

The neck also has an indentation before and after the wither; too many flawed necks have the indention only after the wither, especially when the neck is lowered.

Lesson: The horse cannot rotate or laterally turn his head at the poll (the Cranial-Atlas joint). That means  the “wings” of the Atlas must always be parallel to the back of the skull (use the back of the ears, jaw, and eye orbits as reference points). The only exception is when his head is tucked to allow that teensy bit of slide slippage. However, the horse also cannot extend or flex his neck at the Atlas-Axis joint, which results in the lovely break over, arch, or "mitbah." Therefore, not until the junction of the Axis and third vertebrae does true lateral flexion and rotation occur.

Torso

The torso consists of approximately eighteen thoracic vertebrae (back), five to six lumbar vertebrae (loins), five to six sacral vertebrae (croup), generally eighteen coccygeal vertebrae (tail), and then we have the pelvis lashed onto the sacrum.

The equine barrel isn't shaped like a tube or box, but like a canoe with a keel and the wide, well–sprung portion towards the flanks and groin. In motion, the sternum moves in synch with the spine, connected to it through the ribcage.

Contrary to belief, the equine back isn't a pliable rod; it cannot flex freely in any direction. In reality, the torso is quite rigid due to evolutionary requirements too lengthy to discuss here. Subsequently (and grossly oversimplified), an equine spine is:

• Capable of only approximately two and a quarter inches of dorsiflexion.
• Has the greatest potential for lateral bend before the thirteenth thoracic vertebra.
• Has a lumbar region inflexible for lateral bending and limited rotational movement being designed, instead, for “coiling” to tuck the hindquarter.
• Has a fused sacrum capable only of coiling at the lumbo-sacral joint (LS Joint).
• Is capable of a limited degree of rotation, which occurs mostly in the thoracic vertebrae. 
• The rotations of the spine determine the gaits, posture, and motions.

In shorthand this means:

• Unlike depicted in many horsemanship manuals, the horse cannot laterally bend in a smooth curve. Instead, he bends before the thirteen thoracic vertebra and banks a turn by pushing his ribcage outside the turn. In conjunction, he bends his neck into the turn thereby completing the illusion of a smooth curve.
• The greatest articulation occurs at the LS Joint, which can only tuck to curl the hindquarter under the body.
• The barrel swings over the supporting hindleg in reaction to the physics of motion, referred to as "schwung" in German.
• All movement begins in the spine (not the legs).

As for the tailbone, it's much like the lower five vertebrae of the neck—highly flexible. It should be noted that the tail is a reflection of what the spine is doing, too.

Now one may wonder why the pelvis is included in the spine section. Good question. And it's because the pelvis is a fused girdle of bone lashed onto the spine at the sacroiliac joint by a tight webbing of ligaments. Functioning as a solid unit then, the pelvis moves in synch with the spine. Whatever the spine does, so must the pelvis, making the pelvis essentially an extension of the spine.

The reference points of the pelvis are the ichium (point of buttock), tuber sacrale (point of croup) and the tuber coxae (point of hip). Wider than the forequarter, the pelvis can neither internally articulate within its points nor articulate with the spine independently. Consequently, these reference points are always parallel and aligned to each other to form a perfect box always bisected by the spine, regardless of movement.

Lesson: Horses have relatively rigid backs that cannot move according to what many mistaken diagrams insist; it's more flexible than a cow's back but less flexible than a dog's back. Boiled down then, the action of the spine is the first aspect to consider when designing a sculpture, being the origin of all postures and movements. What's more, the pelvis is obliged to do what the spine is doing since it's lashed onto the sacrum. So if the spine is rotated, the pelvis is thusly rotated. If the spine is hollowed, the pelvis is leveled. If the spine is rounded, the pelvis is tucked under the body. The pelvic girdle is also solid bone, therefore, asymmetrical reference points means the pelvis is broken. Similarly, if the spine doesn't bisect the pelvic girdle, the pelvis has broken away from the spine.  

Fascia

The body is covered in fascia, it's dense with it. It encases all the muscles and it sheaths tendons, ligaments, and organs, weaving a dense network throughout the body. In many ways, fascia is the forgotten component in equine anatomy, it being removed to reveal the "more important" aspects of anatomy. Yet fascia is critical! It gives the hide its texture, muscles their shape, and it interconnections every system and every portion together. It's the communicative common bond that meshes the entire body together. It also plays a part in biomechanics, helping to move sections, interconnecting regions, and morphing muscles as they contract and relax. Indeed, without fascia, the whole body would just fall apart and regions wouldn't synch properly. 

Lesson: Fascia often won't be found in anatomical references since it's what's removed to reveal the underlying anatomy. But don't forget it's there! It's an important component to sculpture and for understanding equine anatomy. Truly, we can deduce much about a artist's knowledge base by how they treat fascia in their sculpture work.

Shoulder and Forelegs

The scapula (shoulder blade) is not attached to the torso by bone, but by a sling of muscles and flesh. As such, its motion is a sliding one, forwards and backwards, upwards and downwards, and is remarkably supple, fluid, and dynamic, and acts as an effective shock absorber. 

The scapulo–humeral joint (between the scapula and the humerus) has a goodly potential range of movement. However, a tight network of ligaments and muscles restrict the full potential of this joint. Nevertheless, it can slightly flex and extend, and it's the location for foreleg rotation, abduction, and adduction, which is why the chest compresses and expands during lateral movements.

The humeral–radial joint (between the humerus and radius) is a hinge joint capable only of flexion and extension along the sagittal plane. It cannot rotate or laterally bend. Acting like a lever, the ulna (elbow) is fused to the radius (forearm), and so articulates with the radius like an extension of it.

The carpus (knee) is a hinge joint. However, it's capable of some twisting in flexion, clearly seen when a horse is laying down. It's a dual–hinge joint, having a 2–tier construction, or two layers of carpal bones. However, the carpus can only articulate at the joints between the radius and the 1st layer and between the 1st and the 2nd layer. The 2nd layer is so tightly lashed with ligaments to the metacarpal (cannon) that it cannot articulate, making it an extension of the metacarpal. This is why the first bend of the knee has a pointier angle and the lower bend is rounded. What's more, the equine foreleg is angled in a slightly knock–kneed structure, much like how our femurs are oriented to our tibias. That's to say there shouldn't be a straight line from the radius down through the metacarpal, a common fault in sculpture and often misrepresented in conformation text. To have such an orientation is to have a bowlegged forequarter.

The three points of articulation in the foot are the fetlock, pastern, and the coffin joint (or pedal joint). The sesamoids, though firmly attached by ligaments to the 1st phalanx, articulate slightly with the cannon during flexion. All three are hinge joints but, the pastern (which is bell–shaped from the front), and especially the coffin joint, can produce some shift and rotation. This can be easily seen on reclining horses, hoof "wobbling" during extreme movement, or cutting. (This is yet another reason why having healthy hooves in which the coronet is at or below the coffin joint is so imperative.)

As for motion, the foreleg is dependent on the shoulder through of the pulley system created both by the stay apparatus and mechanical evolutionary demands. In short, all foreleg movement is dictated by the shoulder through this pulley system that runs down the front and back of the foreleg. Indeed, muscles don't exist distal to the knee having turned into tendons that act on the lower leg through the contractions of the muscles higher up on the leg (the same is true for the hind leg and the hock). Therefore, lower leg motion is governed by the muscles of the forearm which are governed by the humerus which is governed by the scapula (which is ultimately governed by the spine). So whatever the hoof is doing is a reflection of what the knee, elbow, scapulo–humeral joint, and shoulder are doing. Thus, foreleg articulation is a measured even motion similar to a drafting lamp. Only if weighted, fatigued, uncommonly stressed, or injured do variations occur.

When it comes to the cannons (both foreleg and hind leg), we have the metacarpal in the front and the portion behind the splint bones is just tendons and ligaments. That means those areas shouldn't appear "filled in" or fleshy, but the bone and those tendons and ligaments need to be crisp and clean with good "hollows" to demonstrate a lack of injury or pathology that would manifest as puffiness.

Lesson: Don't recreate forelegs that are out of synch with the shoulders, or a pulley system that's out of whack. And refrain from creating lateral, medial, or rotational motion at the humeral–radial joint because, remember, this motion occurs primarily at the scapulo–humeral joint. Additionally, don't sculpt broken elbows (absent or curved ulnas) or broken knees (a carpus articulating between the 2nd layer and the cannon). And avoid "spaghetti legs" as typified by undulating, twisted, or curved parts of the legs which should be, instead, straight columns of bone. And always remember all foreleg motion is dictated according to the pulley–system; it always functions as a symbiotic system and not independently. Remember to think of a drafting lamp.

Hind Legs

The hind leg is also governed by its own pulley–system subject to the same mechanical concepts as previously discussed, but even more so. Therefore the hind leg also acts as a symbiotic system, too, connected together and behaving like a drafting lamp; no portion articulates independently. Everything is synched in close relationships, with activation of the lower limb occurring high up on the leg.

The pelvic–femoral joint (between the femur and pelvis) is a ball and socket joint capable of a wide spectrum of motion. Hind leg motion originates at this joint (though ultimately the spine), making it essentially the shoulder equivalent of the hind end. 

The stifle is actually comprised of two hinge joints: the femorotibial joint (between the femur and the tibia) and the femoropatellar joint (between femur and patella). And again, mirroring the foreleg (in this case the humeral–radial joint ), both are hinge joints, incapable of lateral or rotational motion. A detail to notice is that the patella, a locking mechanism in the stay apparatus, articulates with the femur in the femoral groove by sliding up and down in synch with the tibia. Therefore, the patella slides down when the hind leg is flexed and up when the hind leg is extended. Another important point to notice is that the stifle must pop out around the rib cage when flexed and drawn forwards, causing the entire leg to rotate outwards and slant inwards towards the median at the pelvic–femoral joint. 

The tarsus (hock) shares two similarities with the carpus (knee). First, it consists of a 2–tier arrangement. Next, the 2nd layer is tightly bound to the metatarsal (hind cannon), making this layer a mechanical extension of the metatarsal. But unlike the carpus, the bones of the tarsus are so lashed together by ligaments they are, essentially, fused with little shift or play. As a result, the only point of articulation in the hock is between the astragalus (or talus) and the tibia, the tibio–tarsal joint. Two important details to note here is that articulation is on top of the hock and the calcaneum (the point of hock) leverages with the metatarsal like the ulna with the radius. This means the hock articulates at the top and the calcaneum remains in line with the metatarsal. This also means that when the hock is flexed, the point of hock isn't pointy, a common error in sculpture, but more rounded, in keeping with the tip of the calcaneum. The hock is also built with a spiral construction* via the articular surface of the astragalus. So during flexion, this design makes the metatarsal rotate inwards and on an inward slant. Pair this with the popping of the stifle around the ribcage in flexion and we have the curious angulation of the hind leg in the flexed position, which becomes more pronounced the greater the flexion. (*Depicts the right hock from the front.)

And like the forelegs, the hind legs have their own unique angle when standing. Rather than angled forward from stifle to toe as we so often erroneously see in conformation books as "correct straight legs," the hind leg from stifle to toe should actually be angled moderately outward, away from the median, on an even plane. We see an extreme expression of this in the "close–hocked" stance of Clydesdales (which is not the same as being sickle–hocked). Indeed, if the hind leg is straight forwards (as we often see on the real thing because they've mistakenly parroted incorrect conformation tenets), that's actually bow–leggedness which is why such horses move with a hock–popping motion in extension.

Lesson: Avoid creating a broken pulley–system or inaccurate articulation in the hind leg; remember the drafting lamp. Also be sure the sculpture's hind leg movement is originating at the femoral joint and not at the stifle which is a common fault. Likewise, don't create a joint with a broken hock (bent calcaneum). And don't create hind legs moving on a forward–facing axis, which is perhaps the most common biomechanical error in sculpture. Instead, the dynamics of the popped out stifle and rotating joint of the astragalus create hind leg dynamics that move on a series of curious angles, not on a straight plane.

Foot Movement

Foot motion, specifically the fetlock, pastern, and coffin joints, can be tricky because the physical forces of the world influence their angulations despite the pulley–systems. For example, a foot may snap or wobble under the forces of thrust and inertia, often seen in racing or jumping. Or a slacken floppy foot (primarily in the forefoot) can be influenced greatly by thrust and gravity. Fatigue also may alter foot motion. So study foot movement in relation to motion, physics, and circumstance to gain better understanding of these peculiarities. And referring to quality reference photos is always a wise practice.

Nevertheless, there're a few concepts to keep in mind:

• Most flexion tends to occur at the fetlock joint, though the pastern and coffin joints do play a significant role, especially when articulation is extreme. Nevertheless, situations are variable. For example, primary flexion at the pastern and coffin joints may occur in the hind leg when it's well under the body, bracing for support, often seen in haute cole in the levade, or in the sliding stop. 
• When a standing leg is extended backwards with the hoof still on the ground, the pulley–system straightens out the fetlock and pastern joints leaving the pedal joint to keep the foot flat on the ground. In other words, the fetlock doesn't rotate, but straightens out, leaving the pastern joint and coffin joint to keep the hoof oriented towards the ground. Bending the fetlock forwards to set a hoof flat on the ground is another common mistake in sculpture.
• The emotions of the horse can influence foot movement. For instance, a lazy or relaxed horse may exhibit slackened foot articulation whereas an excited animal may produce tight snappy action.

We should also be well–versed on what constitutes a healthy foot if we're to avoid creating pathological ones in our sculptures. Problem hooves are a chronic source of errors in realistic equine sculpture, so we need to be proactive in our education to avoid creating them. The hooves also tell a story about the individual horse, which may prove important for a narrative or backstory.

Lesson: We should pay close attention to all the foot joints since their nature greatly affects the overall impression of our piece. In particular, we can't forget the pastern and coffin foot joints when articulating our feet in sculpture. Also many foot articulations are a function of natural coordination, so to get them wrong implies an injury or pathology. 

Proportion

Although it may seem odd to include proportion as part of anatomy, it's definitely an anatomical consideration as well as an artistic one. Everything about the animal has a proportional relationship to another, so it could be said that capturing these relationships accurately is the gist of sculpting anatomy realistically. To that end, knowing how to use anatomical landmarks to measure proportion is a critical skill to learn. A set of locking calipers can truly be a best friend! Yet there are some specific aspects of proportion that need special mention, as follows:

• Symmetry: Horses are bilaterally symmetrical, meaning that one side mirrors the other side from nose to tail. While there’s natural variation with each animal, of course, paired body areas should match more or less despite posture or motion, and that means careful measuring with locking calipers. This is especially true for legs, the head, ears, the Atlas bone, pelvic girdle, and hooves. 
• Harmony: Proportion as a whole should be given due attention, meaning that the entire sculpture should harmonize together realistically without one portion being way out of proportion to another. For instance, we don't want to see a head that's too big, hooves that are too small, a neck that's too long, or a hindquarter that's too short. There should be an overall balance to the piece.
• Standards: Some aspects of proportion are also about conformation and breed type, so we need to pay attention to those as well. For example, an Arabian should have a proportionally longer mitbah than a Shire, or a Quarter Horse have proportionally bulkier muscles than a Friesian.

Lesson: Proportion is a key component to realism as anatomy, so it needs our due attention just as much. Our sculpture should be symmetrical, harmonize, and have those proportional components consistent to conformation requirements or breed points of type to be convincing.

Placement

This pertains to the anatomical orientation of each body feature. Characteristic of the Equus blueprint, the equine has body parts placed in very specific areas, in very specific ways. While this seems painfully obvious, it bears repeating when we get to complicated areas like the head and legs when the issue of placement comes to the fore. Here if one component is off, it can either make the area look odd, or throw off the placement of surrounding structures altogether. When this happens, it's often hard for us to identify exactly where things went wrong since, by this point, the error is systemic.

The thing is, placement can't be fudged. Because when we start, we run into problems like asymmetries and disproportionate aspects as we try to force things. But putting together an accurate horse is like carpentry; things have to fit exactly, like a properly done dovetail joint, or jigsaw puzzle. An eye has to go exactly where an eye is supposed to go, for example; otherwise the jaw, zygomatic arches, ears, teardrop bone, and brow will be misplaced, too. In turn, that will misplace the nostril, mouth, chin, and buccinators, and therefore effectively fudging up the whole head. Indeed, just one misplacement can create a cascade effect that necessitates starting over from scratch.

Lesson: Where anatomical features are placed is critical for a realistic result. We can't have the eye slightly off, for example, and hope to create an accurate face. Misplacements tend to be really obvious mistakes, too, something that cannot be strategically hidden. 

Planes

Planes refers to the angle, slant, curve, or twist of each body component in relation to another. Similarly, characteristic of the anatomical blueprint, the horse's body has specific planes to its muscle bundles and bony projections that, together, give the animal the shapes and curves we'd recognize as "a horse." In other words, distill a horse down to pure form, realistically done (not stylized), and that's our set of planes we have to work with.

And like placement, these planes have to be spot on. Just as much, if even one of these planes is off, it'll throw off the planing of another portion, and so the error compounds. Nonetheless, planes are perhaps the most fudged aspect of realistic equine sculpture, which is why so many works can appear odd or misshapen, especially in the broad expanses of muscle mass. Yet correct planes are fundamentally important to equine sculpture, forming one of the baselines of realism. Indeed, so much so that we can sculpt an equine sculpture almost entirely from planes and still produce a realistic result. The work of Herbert Haseltine comes to mind.

Lesson: Correct planes form the basic strokes of realism, and an error in them is a fundamental error of realism. Incorrect planes also compound, taking whole sections away from accuracy.

Mass

Gravity and physics have important anatomical consequences for how we depict our subject in sculpture. For example, if our sculpture depicts motion but has “standing” pasterns, the piece won't be as believable as it could have been. But remember, the physical forces manifest themselves in all parts of the body simultaneously, not just in discreet areas. For instance, consider a galloping sculpture with one foreleg planted on the ground. Not only will that fetlock be flexed, but that entire foreleg will be "jammed" upwards into the torso under the forces of impact and weight–bearing, causing the foreleg to be set momentarily deeper into the body as the angles of the upper foreleg are compressed. That is to say, weight–bearing isn't just a factor of the pasterns, but also of the entire limb and into the body. The same can be said of all the forces visited onto the body such as centrifugal force, impact, sliding, spinning, etc. 

Lesson: We must account for physics in our sculpture; otherwise we create a piece depicting a "reality vacuum." This applies not only to the articulations of the sculpture, the nature of the flesh and flow of the hair, but even to the expression of the animal as he reacts to the physical forces he's experiencing.

Foals

When we sculpt foals, we have a lot more to consider than just what meets the eye. They have their own unique qualities that need attention because we certainly cannot sculpt them like "mini–me" versions of adults. Indeed, when we start applying adult concepts to foals, we run into trouble, so to avoid that, there are two ideas we should keep in mind as we sculpt them: "underdeveloped" and "infant." Foals are a "work in progress," and we need to capture these growing qualities about them along with their delightful personalities if we hope to capture all that is "foal."

Lesson: We have to sculpt and paint foals on their own terms, according to their own unique characteristics, and cannot apply adult structure or coloration to them.

Additional Points

An important point to understand is that anatomy and conformation aren't synonymous, but very different subjects. Speaking of straight shoulders, upright pasterns, short hips, goose rumps, calf–knees, and ewe necks is not the same as talking about the abduction of the femur, dorsiflexion of the thoracic vertebrae, vastus attachment to the femoral trochanter, contraction of the extensor pedis, extension of the humerus, and the internal malleolus of the radius. Anatomy is the blueprint of the genus whereas conformation is the blueprint of the breed; one is made by nature and the latter by people. For instance, a Brabant, POA, Teke, and Saddlebred may all be different breeds (conformation) but they're all Equus (anatomy). Even further, that means that while their knees may look different superficially because of their breed type, for example, they're all built and articulate like an equine knee because they're equine.

Similarly, when we sculpt, we have to keep viability and functionality in mind. Viability entails accurate anatomical structure that recreates an actual horse (anatomy) whereas functionality refers to structures that maintain soundness (conformation). For this reason, viability is mandatory for equine realism, by definition, but functionality represents a set of ideals that preserve the well–being of the animal. When we speak of quality equine realism then, we mean a piece that's exemplary in both these components.

We should also recognize that the horse doesn't move like an animated anatomy chart, but is imbued with "living flesh" that morphs with posture and movement. For example, muscles slacken, bunch, flatten, hollow, and change shape when contracted or relaxed. Therefore, an anatomy chart should only be used as a deciphering key and as a guide, not as a literal translation. In addition, horses have goo! Their flesh and hide morphs in motion into wrinkles, squishes, and stretches, all of which need to be captured accurately to recreate "living flesh."  This paired with fascia means that a horse's surface texture isn't smooth and polished all over, but has ripples, bumps, squiggles, and various textures reflecting what's going on beneath the coat.

Above all, we shouldn't regard the horse as sections that function independently of one another. While a regional approach helps to clarify specific systems, we also have to express the whole. That's because the horse operates as a whole system, meaning that whatever affects one aspect will affect others. This is how we recreate the fluid, graceful, athletic motion so characteristic of the equine. We should always ask ourselves, “How does moving this bit affect these bits?” Look for the relationships and synchronicity.

Finally, the sculpture and paintwork need to be free of imperfections that would mar or distract from a believable piece. It's not enough "to have everything, and everything in its place"—it has to be well done, too! Without a doubt, folded into the concept of "technical accuracy" is quality workmanship only because without it, our poor workmanship results in errors of realism just the same.

Conclusion

The equine skeleton is a marvel of biological design. Yet it's not obvious. Indeed, its mechanical systems can be better translated with education and observation. Life study is important, of course, but if access to horses is difficult, many other sources for study exist. Movies and videos can be useful as are horse shows and expos. Photos can be found online, and in books, calendars, magazines, and promotional materials. Also, attending workshops, clinics, and seminars are a great way to deepen our understanding and perhaps apply some hands–on techniques. The point is that opportunities are plentiful so don't rely on "booksmarts" alone. We not only need an understanding of how anatomy works in principle, but also how it works practically speaking—how it functions in real life. Knowing where the two diverge and where they overlap is critical for creating convincing work.

Deepening our knowledge about anatomy is beneficial for the community overall, too. Indeed, it's not just the artist who benefits by developing an ability to produce more believable sculptures. Buyers benefit, too, since they can better make purchases most likely to succeed in competition. What's more, judges benefit by improving their ability to reward those pieces that are most consistent to the goals of realism. Working symbiotically then, we can elevate the art form and advance our understanding and appreciation for this wondrous animal.

So ask questions, stay curious, and don't take anything for granted. Sure—anatomy charts and text seem intimidating, but with practice and discipline, the mechanical workings of the equine skeleton will become more apparent. In turn, this will inspire more proactive education on the subject, and deepen our commitment to this beautiful and complex animal. And learning about his physique is to learn about his natural history, too, and that's a fascinating story that deeply informs our creative choices. Truly, to fully understand our subject we not only need to know how he's structured, but why. With this under our belt, we can begin to tell a fuller story of Equus and amplify the authority of our work. The equine is truly a product of his evolutionary habitat just as equine realism is a product of discipline. Marry the two together, and we have real magic!

So until next time...It's only bio–logical, Captain.

"A great accomplishment shouldn't be the end of the road, just the starting point for the next leap forward."

~ Harvey Mackay

Terms: 

Median Plane: The plane intersecting the horse if the animal were sliced down the middle, nose to tail

Sagittal Plane: Any plane parallel to the median plane

Abduction: Motion away from the median plane

Adduction: Motion toward the median plane

Dorsiflexion: Flexion upward

Lateral: To the side, away from the median plane

Medial: To the inside, towards the median plane

Internal: To the inside, towards the median plane

Bio-logic: Equine Anatomy 101

The Master's Edge: The Importance Of Quality Workmanship

Introduction

Greetings everyone! There’s an aspect of our work that’s the very foundation on which we build our reputations and mastery. And while many of us exhibit superlative qualities in this matter, our genre overall is showing cracks in this infrastructure. 

What's this aspect?...It’s workmanship.

Our primary mode of competition has models exhibited in an up–close, personal inspection compared against their fellows on the table. In order to compete successfully at such a show, models are expected to have quality workmanship to do well. But what does that mean? How do we know it when we see it? It can be ambiguous when it seems that so many participants seem to have very different ideas about it. Yet on the other hand, we can't afford to quality workmanship, it being the unquestionable basis for our work. Without excellence here, our work isn’t up to its potential no matter how stunning in design or how amazing is one aspect. So it's a startling and strange contradiction.

It’s also important to notice the hallmark of a quality artist: consistency in workmanship. If someone could buy our work sight unseen and not be questioning their purchase upon arrival, we know we’re on the right track. We should also know that quality workmanship is timeless—it can stand the test of time, maybe even indefinitely. On the other hand, if we find our work becoming “dated” in an ever–advancing art form, we probably have some workmanship issues to address.

That said, despite all our advances the last thirty years, there still seems to be cursory treatment of workmanship overall, and it’s having some cumulative negative effects, two being quite significant. First, it’s “dumbing–down” our art and steering it away from what was once a clear path. Even OF Tests are now being compared to Repaints as equitable, which illustrates the issue. There should be an enormous difference between a production piece and a painstaking artisan piece. Second, people are paying large sums of money for customs or repainted Artist Resins, and upon inspection, are disappointed by its quality, or how it performs under a savvy judge. This, in turn, makes the market even more difficult for everyone and judging particularly frustrating.

Nonetheless, there’s another problem with workmanship. On one hand, it’s claimed as an assurance of a required standard (as we hear with the term “live show quality”) but, on the other hand, no such standard actually exists. There’s simply no consensus as to what the term actually means. Consequently, a pervasive confusion about what constitutes “quality workmanship” typifies the live show experience, a condition that’s become counter–productive. Indeed, the term has become so misconstrued today that many showers, particularly new showers, are inadvertently purchasing or creating work that falls short of this unspoken standard. 

To mediate this then, this discussion seeks to identify and define the points of “quality workmanship” to weigh in the creative process, gauge during a purchasing decision, or be judged at a live show. It attempts to confirm the importance and points of quality workmanship and, more importantly, to alert collectors so they can make better purchasing decisions and judges can decide better rankings. And perhaps these posts will alert some of us about some blindspots we may have—because we all have them. 

Furthermore, it helps to clarify the specific points to look for, which are mostly objective and learnable. But it’s also important to understand that these points ask and don’t ask. It's not a question of “What is good art?” Instead, it's a question of, “Does this piece represent the high technical foundation for good realistic 3D equine art?” That’s to say we may not particularly personally like that pinto pattern or color on a piece, but it sure has exemplary workmanship. So there can be a big difference in what we personally like versus which one is more exemplary in workmanship. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” but we’re still obliged to pin the best workmanship despite our “beholding.” (For more in–depth discussion on these matters, please refer to my LSQ Guidelines, 2nd Edition for more in-depth discussion on this topic.)

So to start, let’s define “quality workmanship.” What is it? Does it have to do with prepping? Sculpting? Painting? The condition of the model being judged? The answer is “yes” to all of that, plus more! And we’ll get to all of it in this series. But in the meantime, we can define “quality workmanship” as: 

Highly skilled technical and creative workmanship that enhances realism when personally inspected.

As we progress through this post, we’ll find that each point is described consistently to this definition. In short, everything hinges on quality workmanship that maximizes realism in an inanimate model. As such, these points are divided into two categories, The Essentials and The Optionals. The former are those features that are mandatory (objective features) while the latter depends on our personal opinion (subjective features). Finally, please keep in mind that this series is intended to apply only to Customs and Artist Resins. It’s not intended to apply to Original Finish models.

THE ESSENTIALS

Prepping

Prepwork is the initial treatment of the sculpture to provide the “canvas” for painting. Being so, it should be absolutely meticulous and diligent. All surface imperfections caused by the sculpting or molding process should be removed so as to appear they never existed in the first place. Quality prepping removes every tidbit that wouldn’t exist on a real horse. And there’s no substitute for thorough prepwork. No matter how beautiful the paintwork or the sculpting, the prep job should be of equal merit: careful, precise, and with attention to detail without compromising the intrinsic characteristics of the “blank” body. However, don’t fault a piece that’s textured by the artist’s style. One should definitely develop the ability to tell the difference between “supposed to be there” and “oops.” 

Overall, we can say that good prepping is totally invisible, exhibiting no aspect that would betray the cleaning and prep stage. Being so, quality workmanship should lack these issues in prepwork, as follows: 

• The absence of a primer coat to “glue” the paint to the piece.
• Crackling, drips, ridges, blobs, or debris embedded in the primer coat.
• Primer that’s inappropriate for the material and not applied smoothly, lightly, and evenly. 
• Primer that has drips, ripples, bubbles, “pilling,” pock marking, or wrinkling.
• Mold flashing: These are raised or depressed edges that outline areas of the body where the mold pieces met to cast the piece. All flashing should be expertly removed without compromising the piece’s intrinsic qualities.
• Chasing: Often on plastics, the mold seams have been clumsily cleaned, leaving chatter marks or harsh chasing. Sometimes a prepper will even create them as they clean the piece too carelessly. All seams should be fully removed in a smooth, even fashion as to become invisible and consistent with the rest of the piece.
• Seals: On plastic Customs, this is the manufacturer identification stamp, often found on the inner thigh or groin, that needs expert removal that doesn’t distort the anatomy of the inner leg. However, on Artist Resins, all identifying information such as signatures, dates, titles, numbering, etc. should remain intact.
• Pinholes: Small pits the size of a pinhead or smaller, often caused by the molding process. 
• Divots: Like pinholes, but larger.
• Bubbles: Air bubbles that have only partially erupted from the surface, which can be small or quite large.
• Gouges, Scratches, or Scrapes: Areas that suffered damage from the casting or initial cleaning process. 
• Sandpaper marks: Little scratches where inappropriate rough sandpaper was used, or the area wasn’t polished enough. 
• Pilling: Small bits of material in places of detail or complexity (usually manes and tails), that aren’t consistent to what we’ve find on a real horse. They’re either caused by careless sculpting that neglected to smooth them out, or by problematic primering or casting.
• Dusting: When the primer was applied too far away from the surface, causing a grainy texture to the model.
• Pock marks: Areas that bear a patterned texture in the sculpture often caused by problems during the casting process or primer that rippled. 
• Mismatched seams: When different mold parts don’t meet evenly along their seams, one aspect of the sculpture will be inconsistent to the other. This causes asymmetries, often most obvious in the face or the belly, and sometimes along the topline. And the more askew the mold seam, the lesser quality the model. It’s often a better course to fill one side up to meet its corresponding side than sanding one side down.
• Channels: A strip of the surface that lies deeper than the surrounding area, often following a mold seam. They can also manifest as a long “valley” on top of a mold seam as the artist tried to make each meeting side equal when, instead, filling one side with epoxy would’ve been the better option. These valleys are often typified by sandpaper marks. 
• Ripples: Sometimes an artist will coat the original in gesso, which can leave grooves, ridges, or ripples on the surface that are reproduced when cast. Not to be confused with intended fleshy or coat qualities.
• Swirls: Sometimes the casting medium behaves strangely, leaving razor thin, swirling grooves randomly over the model.
• Missing parts: Sometimes areas don’t cast properly and end up missing on the final cast such as ear tips, hoof parts, mane/tail tendril ends, nostril rims, etc. They need to be recreated to match the original intent.
• Tear–outs: When a mold is damaged internally, an accidental fill at the site of that damage will occur in the castings. These tears usually happen in complicated, tight areas of the sculpture and when cast, manifest themselves as foreign blocks of resin. They need to be removed from the casting in such a manner that the corrections are consistent to the rest of the sculpture and duplicate the original intent.
• Imprinted remnants: Sometimes accidental artifacts are left on the model which can get reproduced when cast. Such things include fingerprints, pet hair, dollops of unintended clay or other foreign matter. It should all be removed from the casting or Custom in the prepping stage.
• Reinforcement wires: These are often used for resin casting in the legs or hair tendrils and sometimes protrude through the resin surface. If they aren't filled over, they can leave an inconsistent patch of smoothness surrounded by a thin oval ridge where it meets up with the resin.
• Sprue: A channel through which resin flowed to fill the mold during the casting process. Left intact, they appear as resin rods radiating from the casting and are usually removed during rough cleaning. The most common sprue is on the belly, but a sprue can be particularly deceptive on manes or tails with complex tendril design, so good prepwork will take great care to match the original intent of these areas.
• Cracks: Cracks are partial breaks and can occur around areas of fill or those that are particularly delicate or vulnerable, often around pressure points or areas of load stress. Those that are repaired should be done so as to be unseen, sturdy, and match the original intent.
• Breaks: Breaks are when a piece of the model becomes detached from the rest of the body. Those that are repaired should be done so as to be unseen, sturdy, and match the original intent.
• Lifting: Lifting occurs when the fill material releases its hold on the model’s surface and raises up, sometimes in large chunks. This can occur with improper preparation of the model’s surface, or filling material, or improper care or storage. Lifting requires repair by an experienced person skilled in such matters, and those that are repaired should be done so as to be unseen, sturdy, and match the original intent.
• Bloating: If a plastic model is allowed to get hot, the plastic will soften and the air inside can expand, causing it to bloat. This can be directly linked to lifting.
• Destruction of Style: Each artist has a unique sculptural technique so it’s essential to remember that good prepwork is invisible, melting into the style and technique of the original artist’s sculpting. When we don’t match the original artist’s touch, what should have been cohesive and consistent becomes distracting and clumsy.

Sculpting

The sculpting of the piece should be equally finessed with a consistent surface and realistic renderings of surface contours and anatomical structures. In this, technique and materials come to the fore so that sculpting technique has, as follows:

• No aspect of sculpting that compromises the illusion of a real horse with inferior technique, materials, or carelessness. 
• Consistency in skill, texture, and style; harmony and uniformity are essential.
• A surface free of inappropriate bumps, lumps, pits, divots, scratches, or other careless incongruities. Indeed, in no way should it appear the artist dropped the ball or fudged it. On top of that, sculpted hair should be convincing as flowing hair, and skillfully rendered. 
• A smooth technique free from a “pilling."
• Believable treatment of flesh, bone, hair, hide, flesh, and horn.
• A confident execution of sculptural technique that’s not confused or executed messily with blobs, sags, irregular textures, etc.
• Details that are accurate, and aren’t rendered too harshly with a slashing action (often seen with wrinkles, veins, muscle definition, facial detail, and sculpted manes and tails). 
• Skillful design that avoids awkwardness or oddness that would “stop the eye” and inhibit a credible and beautiful duplication of a real horse. 
• Confidence, skill, and deliberate methods as though the artist meant every step. Quality sculpting or customizing techniques should always be an asset to realism and never a liability.
• For Customs, altered areas that are consistent in style, skill, formation, and texture of the untouched original plastic. The transition should be so smoothly done that it’s indistinguishable where the original surface ends and customization begins. Truly, a good customizer is a good mimic, and the more minimal the custom, the more important is mimicry. 

Anatomy

Anatomy entails the physiological structures that define the equine, and includes equine biomechanics. It’s based on equine biology, evolution, structure, and genetics pertaining to the genus Equus. Because realism is the goal, consequently a piece should be as anatomically faithful to equine structure as possible; if a real horse has it, so should the piece, or if a real horse doesn’t have it, neither should the model. So because our focus is equine realism, by definition, no piece can be of true quality workmanship if it lacks this technical authenticity even if all other aspects are superior. This means that factual technical anatomy is the primary basis of quality workmanship for our purposes. Truly, a significant enough error here can sink the whole effort, so research and learning to See are critical. 

On that note, anatomy includes all the physical structures authentic to a real horse, as follows:

• Technically factual characteristics of the skeleton, musculature, flesh, and hair.
• Technically factual biomechanics. 
• The respective areas should be convincing as bone, flesh, hair, hide, and horn.
• Consistent physics as they affect the body and hair.
• Symmetry of the body with bilateral pairs.
• Correct rendition of veins, moles, wrinkles and other such details.
• Faithfulness to equine behavior.
• Accurate secondary sex characteristics (gender differences).
• Consistent age characteristics.
• Any other facet of sculpture that would convey a technically factual depiction of the equine.

Nevertheless, technical realism is a difficult property to describe since it depends upon one’s perception and depth of knowledge. These are developed over time with diligent research, analysis, observation, and artistic exercises. But if we aren’t aware of equine anatomy well enough to identify truthful accuracy, it’s recommended to engage in independent research or seek the advice of learned fellows. Always objectively scrutinize each potential purchase from an anatomical point of view first.

It should also be mentioned that “correct” anatomy doesn’t mean that everything seen in an anatomy chart should be reproduced in meticulous detail. Horses are fleshy, mercurial animals, and their body surfaces go through many changes as they move, and change in ways that don’t seem to be consistent to what we’d expect to see in an anatomical chart. We need to see “living flesh” in a piece for it to be topclass quality. For more discussion on this and other topics, please refer to my blog post, “Now About Those Anatomy Charts and Viability and Functionality: The Umbrellas.)

We should also understand that there are many ways to express equine realism, even within its narrow set of standards. When we can See anatomy completely, we're better able to make these distinctions with greater insight and confidence. (For more discussion on this topic, please refer to my blog post, The Unreality Of Realism; Walking The Tightrope Between Fact And Fiction.)

Finishwork

Applied finishes should exhibit genetic authenticity, mastery of the media, skillful interpretation of life, and artistic eye–appeal, using a rich and varied palette. It should also be consistent in quality and practiced technique, and thorough, precise, and in–scale as well as keenly attentive to authentic detail and effect. The pigments should be expertly blended with as smooth a finish as the media and technique will allow. No debris or dust should be present in the paintwork, and it should compliment the sculpture. Above all, finishwork shouldn't appear cursory, or rendered in a flat, dull, or hurried manner. Simply put, if it’s not on a real horse, it shouldn’t be in the finish work.

So beware—finishwork exhibits some common problem areas, as follows:

• It doesn’t follow colors, effects, or patterns based on genetic fact. All paintwork must be consistent to authentic data or corresponding reference photos, being neither fudged nor made up. However, nature does throw oddities at us which can be found in specific breeds, bloodlines, or regions. For that reason, studying realistic coloration and on what types of horses they occur is important for creating a believable model. Without a doubt, it’s also good policy to provide photographic documentation or historical data for finishwork that depicts a very rare or odd type of coloration.
• Areas left unpainted, often in intricate areas such as groins, manes, tails, or inside open mouths.
• Airbrush dapples with a bald spot in the middle (like tiny donuts) or “spider legs” radiating from, caused by an airbrush that randomly spit out pigment at too high a pressure.
• An airbrush finish that’s pebbly or having areas of “wash” where the pigment was too low or allowed to pool too thickly, respectively.
• Painted in a flat, boring, lifeless manner, lacking the necessary shading, highlight, and tonal use of pigment, and detail.
• Use of an unvaried and overly simplistic palette.
• Drips, ridges, lumps, crackling, bumps, ridges, blobs, scratches, wrinkles, fingerprints, pet hair, or other inconsistencies or foreign matter that would mar a harmonious, methodical, clean finish. 
• Bald areas in the paint where the artist neglected to layer on enough pigment for an even opaque finish, often seen on appaloosa patterns (in both the spots or white areas), or pinto patterns (in the white areas). 
• Sloppy and unconvincing mapping, sometimes with grey pigment regardless of the body color.
• Forgotten features such as chestnuts, the palmar surface of the foot, or the insides of ears left as the body color.
• Basecoats textured too far away from the natural texture of a living horse, to include overly bumpy or pebbly surfaces.
• White markings with bald patches because not enough white pigment was applied to create an even, opaque finish.
• White markings with drips, wrinkles, cracking, ripples, brushmarks, ridges, or blobs.
• A lack of precision in areas that demand clean lines. For example, sloppy eyes and eyelids, careless borders between the coat color and markings, uneven mane in relation to the crest, hurried detailing of the tail hair on the dock, or uneven, sloppy lines between the coronet and the hoof.
• Hooves given a cursory treatment with one flat color or simply two hastily applied colors, lacking the attentive shading and detail that duplicates the look of real horn. 
• Shoes painted grey or white rather than silver. (Note: black hoof polish can obscure the clenches and shoe with black pigment.)
• Pinked areas on white markings that are flat and harsh, not delicately shaded so as to appear fleshy.
• Heels, soles and frogs painted only a monotone dark color (or just the hoof color), lacking independent shading and detail to duplicate the characteristics of these features.
• Eyes with a possessed or staring appearance because of unskilled shading and detailing. 
• Features of the eye such as the pupil, iris, sclera (eye white) and tear duct painted incorrectly or clumsily.
• Detail areas such as faces, veins, chestnuts, horseshoes, etc., painted in a hurried, sloppy, or indifferent manner such as painting the insides of ears only one color.
• Highlighting on veins, wrinkles or eyebrows not directly and neatly on top of them, but veering off onto the body.
• Shoes painted grey or white rather than silver. (Note: black hoof polish can obscure the clenches and shoe with black pigment.)
• Patterns, ticking, or markings that don’t mimic the lay of hair growth patterns.
• Thinly haired areas (such as eyes, muzzles and groin) painted in an “unfinished” manner using only the body color, and lacking sufficient shadings and pigmentation to visually “set them back” into the body color.
• Use of pigment inconsistent to the tone of the living subject such as too–orange pinked markings or black chestnuts.
• The typical “20 minute airbrush job” that’s flat, uninspired, and hurried, using perhaps only one, two, or maybe three colors. 

Details

The “devil is in the details” and they definitely count for quality workmanship. Details include ligaments, tendons, veins, nerves, capillaries, whisker bumps/moles, chestnuts, ergots, wrinkles, eyelashes, shoes, clenches, "plumbing," or any other accentuating aspect of a real horse the artist saw fit to instill in the sculpture. In addition, scars, chipped hooves, knotted manes, or other feral touches are welcome as well. If a real horse has specific details, so should a corresponding quality piece. Nonetheless, all these details should be accurate, precise, skillful, convincing, and reveal the artist’s powers of keen observation and duplication. However—details can be poorly done such as the following:

• Shoe jobs that are incorrect such as those that exhibit unawareness of the farrier arts. For instance, glue–on model horse shoes of the wrong size and shape, or fabricated shoes not flush with the bottom of the hoof.
• Nails located on the wrong parts of the hoof wall, being at the quarters rather than towards the toe.
• Veins, capillaries or nerves that don’t follow the anatomical blueprint, or don’t appear fleshy.
• Wrinkles that are hard looking, regimented, artificial, and clumsy rather than fleshy, happenstance, and soft.
• Whisker bumps located on the wrong areas of the face.
• Whisker bumps that are too pointy, or too large, or likewise too small.
• Chestnuts of the wrong texture or located in the wrong place, or a lack of chestnuts altogether.
• Hide details that fail to be convincing as soft, squishy, mercurial flesh.
• Coat characteristics such as clips or shark’s teeth that fail to be convincing, incorrect, or are sloppily rendered.
• Hooves that are clumsily or sloppily painted and fail to appear as actual horn.
• Eyes that are sloppily painted within the eye itself and with the lids.
• Facial shading that fails to appear fleshy and consistent to life, whether natural, clipped, or “oiled.”

Proportion

This brings us to proportion, or the structural comparisons between the different components of a horse. Quality workmanship exhibits the proper proportions of a real horse, with no aspect out of proportion to the rest. Proportion can also relate to proper conformation as long shoulders, hips, and short cannons testify, and can also pertain to breed type as drafters are quite different proportionally from light breeds, for example. Common errors in proportion are, as follows:

• Heads that are too big.
• Muzzles that are too small.
• Pasterns that are too short.
• Croups that are too short, with the dock seeming to creep up the toppling.
• Eyes that are too big.
• Hooves that are too small.
• Frogs that are too narrow or small.
• Legs that are too thin or too bulky.
• Cannons that are too long.
• Backs that are too short.
• Joints that are either too big or too small.

Scale

The issue of scale is critical to quality workmanship since it directly speaks to what we’re doing: technical authenticity, i.e. realism. What’s scale? Well, it’s how consistent to proper size each feature of the model is depending on the size of the model. That means each anatomical feature, each stroke of the sculpting tool, each fleabite, each bit of “ticking” to every other detail of the piece from sculpting to painting to hairing should be authentically sized to the proper scale. Hairing should be carefully done to avoid out of scale bouffants, too. Altogether, it means that regardless of the scale of the piece, every feature is consistent to the proper size it would be on a real horse somehow shrunk down to that size. In a very real sense, the issue of scale speaks directly to our goal of realism since any portion that's out of scale essentially makes our finished piece unrealistic. This is particularly essential on “minis” which can suffer abnormally large joints, facial features, hooves, or details, or ambiguous definition, and a lack of precision. 

A handy trick is to take a good scan of our intended reference photo or coat color and use a photo editing program to shrink it or enlarge it to the actual size of our sculpture or Custom. That really helps to train the eye. 

Presence 

A model should have “soul,” that charisma and anima that speaks and breathes. It should also emulate real equine nature and behavior so it’s a convincing replica of the living animal. This doesn’t mean extreme or wild expressions, but simply that the piece should communicate an individual soul. Indeed, quality workmanship asks that a model be a thoughtful and authentic depiction of a living personality to be truly convincing.

THE OPTIONALS

These “optionals” are subjective, dependent on our own tastes and aesthetics. Being so, they aren’t as fixed in their requirements as The Essentials. There are plenty of anatomically correct horses out there (by default) who have problematic conformation. However, there exist no horses that are conformationally correct with anatomical errors. By simple definition, the latter is unrealistic. If anything, such specimens would represent a dire injury or pathology, or possessing features that aren’t even of Equus caballus at all. This is what makes anatomy far more important than conformation when it comes to realism. Nevertheless, ideally quality workmanship has both in spades.

Breed Type

Based on the historical, practical, and characteristic physical points that define and identify a breed, points of type are distinct and unmistakable. Because showing models like real horses is the goal, a piece should be as “typey” as possible without veering into problematic exxageration. In other words, structure shouldn't only be accurate and functional, but also “breedy.”

Breed type includes all the physical structures authentic to a real horse, as follows:

• Those specific points of type indicative of a breed or type of equine.
• Those specific features characteristic of the phenotypic variations found within a breed.
• Points of type that identify a regional type of equine, or cultural priorities for breeding a type of equine.
• Those features of type that identify a historical archetype or foundation population.
• Points of type typical of current trends or priorities.

In short, if a breed or type of equine is characterized by it, so should the piece have it, as accurately as it is with the real horse, yet functional according to equine biology.  However, it should be noted that different people value different aspects of breed type. That’s to say people tend to have their own idea about what constitutes their own “ideal” look to a breed. Add in all the possible variations a breed may have, and we have quite a smorgasbord of opinions! That said, there generally tends to be a distinctive look to any given breed that most people use to identify it, and that should be regarded as the baseline from which to build further evaluation. 

That given, such features are varied and expansive, and awareness of this diversity depends upon one’s perception and depth of knowledge. These are developed over time with diligent research, analysis, observation, and artistic exercises. Consequently, if we aren’t aware of breed type well enough to identify truthful accuracy, it’s recommended we engage in independent research or seek the advice of learned fellows. 

Conformation

This entails those characteristics and qualities instituted by human motivations that qualify an animal as “ideal.” This concept of “ideal” can pertain to how the animal looks, referred to as “breed type” (see above) and also to those preferred structures or qualities that promote ideal movement or performance.

Each breed has its own set of particulars in this regard since each breed is expected to possess its own characteristic look and motion. For instance, the long sloping hips and shoulders of Trakhners promote long, sweeping strides, the heavy musculature and straight necks of Quarter Horses help with cattlework, the close–hocked stance of Clydesdales aids plowing, and the upright neck and open humeri angles contribute to a Saddlebred’s flashy foreleg motion.

What’s more, some aspects of conformation can be thought of as “functional conformation” because they deal specifically with universal qualities related to equine evolution and physiology. Specifically, functional conformation protects against pathologies that could cause pain and injury to the animal when put to work because it’s aligned to equine biology rather than aesthetic taste, fashion, or exaggerated type. Straight legs, non–extreme heads, good hooves, good joints, good bone, and other points that promote the health of the horse are good examples, and apply to all equines. For this reason, functional conformation can be thought of as more important than other features of conformation.

Conversely, poor conformation is believed to predispose a horse to unsoundness or off–type motion, and it’s these inferior qualities that are selected against in the real horse show ring. For instance, calf–knees, sickle–hocks, bow–legs, ewe–necks, off–plumb hind legs, small hooves, overly long necks, upright pasterns, and cow–hocks are common functional flaws. Therefore, the more functional conformation flaws present in a piece, the more compromised its workmanship status.

Put it all together and we can think of conformation to include these qualities, as follows:

• The lengths, angles, dimensions, orientations, and other characteristics deemed “ideal” by a breed’s registry or community.
• The structural qualities that produce preferred, characteristic motion or performance.
• Those cultural preferences that typify a breed or type.
• Those features that characterize a regional or family variation within a breed.
• Those conformation qualities typical of a historical archetype or foundation population.
• Conformation indicative of current trends or changing priorities.

(For more discussion on this topic, please refer to my blog post Viability and Functionality: The Umbrellas, Anatomy and Conformation, and The Need for Context: Harmful Fallacies That Can Compromise Your Realistic Art)

Permitted Color: Many breeds have color restrictions that prohibit or modify the registration of any given individual, therefore, this category regards whether a specific color, effect, or pattern is authentic to the stated breed or type. For this reason, color can be an important component to a breed’s identity, making a prohibited color or pattern a significant flaw in what we consider as good workmanship.

Being so this category regards every feature that relates to the permitted colors, to include:

• The coat, mane, tail, feather, skin, hoof, and eye color.
• Permitted markings, patterns, or effects.
• Historical colors, to include those no longer present in the population.
• Permitted variations of accepted colors, patterns, or effects.

However, nature does throw oddities at us, which can often be found in specific breeds, bloodlines, or regions. For that reason, it’s smart to provide photographic documentation or historical data for finishwork that depicts a very rare or odd type of coloration. Individual research on this subject, with an objective and skeptical mind, is also highly recommended.

The Caveats Regarding Conformation And Permitted Color 

Conformation and type entail the lengths, angles, and characteristics instituted by human motivations that qualify an animal for human use and ideals. However, everyone has a different idea about what that “ideal” actually means. Talk to five different people and they’ll all have a different opinion in these areas, even regarding the same horse or model! That means conformation and type have to be regarded on a per model basis, with the understanding that judges will be applying their own idea of what is “ideal,” and that ideal may be very different from ours. Even so, every successful live show enthusiast is usually highly educated on these subjects, and the better the workmanship, the more these components are factored into the piece.

Nonetheless, it has been argued that a quality workmanship should possess a good representation of its intended breed, yet that’s an ambiguous and problematic expectation at times. Why? Well, for many important reasons, as follows:

• Plenty of living horses have undesirable conformation or type, yet are still characterized by equine anatomy. That means they may be flawed conformationally, but they’re still technically realistic. And the same applies to models. We need to keep in mind that when we judge model horses, we are judging realism, how technically accurate a model is to a real horse—by definition—and that doesn’t always entail “perfect” conformation and type. While each model is a gradient of “good” conformation then, it should always be as technically accurate as possible.
• However, we’re also judging work made by the work of human hands and not nature. That means there exist plenty of models with “good” conformation and type that are flawed anatomically. They may appear typey, but their flaws in The Essentials reduce the quality of the workmanship.
• Conformation and type are best regarded in balance with equine evolution and physiology, or what is often referred to as “functional conformation.” And often, functional conformation can conflict with current trends in breeding, so we should know our equine biology to make informed decisions.
• It should be mentioned that many aspects of conformation and type are mostly hypothetical anecdotes rather than proven theory. At best they’re tenuous correlations and at worst, they’re marketing propaganda. Also conformation and type are notoriously prone to fashion, bias, misinformation and exaggeration, much to the detriment of the living animal. Undeniably, the truth is that plenty of poorly conformed or ugly horses perform beautifully and stay sound whereas plenty of “ideal” specimens end up as “lawn ornaments.” And what’s undesirable about a happy, useful horse?
• Which standard of conformation and type are we supposed to apply to a model? Do we apply modern standards we find today or also those phenotypes found throughout a breed’s history? This speaks directly to an underlying contradiction in model horse showing, specifically the clash between “historical” judging and “now” judging. Historical judging acknowledges all possible representatives within a gene pool throughout history whether or not they’re favored by modern standards. For example, historical desert Arabians can compete equally against modern showring Arabians, and old foundation Quarter Horses can compete equally against modern halter Quarter Horses. Even chestnut Friesians can compete equally against black Friesians (given the shower provides documentation) since it’s genetically possible even though the registry currently disfavors the color. In contrast, “now” judging only acknowledges current, modern representatives of any given gene pool as per current registry rules. This type of judging is most like showing a real horse today, only recognizing current forms and presentation of the breed and shutting out much of what was, and still is, possible. In its extreme form, such judges favor those models in the textbook modern halter pose, with grooming, coloration and phenotypes currently fashionable, faulting all others regardless of workmanship. So it’s important to understand from which perspective we wish to focus our show string, and to carefully choose which judges we show under; otherwise our perfectly fine model may not show well through no fault of its own.
• Likewise, can it be said that there’s only one standard of conformation and type for each breed? In reality, most breeds can be typified as having several acceptable variations due to bloodlines, uses, region, culture, preservation breeding, or tradition. Even very modern representatives have phenotypic variations, so which is more “correct”? Again, that’s up to our personal taste as well as that of the judge.
• The concept of “breed” or “pure bloodline” is a rather contemporary western notion born of the Victorian era thanks to that period’s fascination with eugenics, elitism, and profiteering. As such, these concepts have been adopted and perpetuated by registries and the industries they support, sometimes relying on mythologies and rhetoric. So regard such things lightly and don’t discount the part–bred or grade horse. 
• It’s important to remember that horses were bred as landraces by individuals or cultures for a specific use with rather open gene pools. In fact, the original application of “type” was to discern between a riding horse, a racehorse, a carriage horse, a warhorse, a workhorse, etc. Also, type could apply to a region or culture a kind of horse could be found. In other words, horses were classified and bred according to their job or regional isolation, not according to their bloodline or “points of type.” However, when the idea of “purebred” became ingrained in a status–hungry Victorian culture, gene pools were sealed with “closed” registry books, causing these previously open populations to now have to operate outside of their original uses. It also meant that rigid points of type were exalted to set them apart from all the other newly established “purebreds” to compete in the horse market. Today, this idolization of these points has caused many breeds to degenerate, especially in the halter divisions. We have Arabians and Quarter Horses with detrimental structure due to an exaggeration of fashionable type, for example. So it’s important to take “extreme” type with a grain of salt, and remain firmly dedicated to type within the biological limits of the animal to ensure well–being.
• We all know what happens when people try to “one up” each other for status, money, and power. Truly, the conceit can be so extreme that we can hear people refer to non–purebreds as “mutts,” “mongrels,” or other derogatory terms. Is this a fair assessment if those animals who are functional and happy?
• Much of modern conformation and type dogma is based on westernized ideals of perfection, and so can be a form of subtle snobbery towards non–western cultures, breeds, types, or colors. Indeed, the Akhal–Teke often unjustifiably suffers from this prejudice despite the breed’s functionality. So try to avoid this trap and evaluate each breed based on its own special merits.
• Remember: A good rule of thumb is to know the basics of functional conformation for good workmanship and regard everything else with a grain of salt.
• In terms of permitted color, don’t forget that color mutations are happening all the time, so some curious oddities can pop up from time to time. Some of these mutations are specific to a region or bloodline, meaning that we have to be careful to match the mutated color with the correct breed. That’s to say we can’t apply a Shetland pony pattern onto our Paint horse sculpture. Breeds simply have their own characteristic mutations that need to match up to be correct.

Ultimately, good workmanship should instill qualities consistent to the stated breed or type, especially in the halter classes, with the understanding that variation and different tastes color the placings. Therefore, it’s important to research judges to show under those who tend to have criteria more aligned to ours.

Artistic Style: This is another consideration for workmanship, and one that may never find resolution (but should it?) as it relies entirely on our own taste and goals. We are an activity based on creativity, which naturally involves a level of individual expression and unique vision. In fact, many participants find great delight in the variety of interpretations of the realistic equine form, and one could say it’s one of our strengths as a community. Indeed, there’s more than one way to convey reality! But it also speaks to the paradox between a desire for clinical realism and an appreciation for artistic style, even to the extreme of caricature. But let’s be honest, there’s no getting around a level of artistic style in any type of creative output, no matter how technically realistic it may be.

Yet it can be said that some artists are more successful at finding a balance between style and technical realism, and it’s these artists who tend to dominate the show ring. That considered, however, those pieces that are heavily stylized can find success too, so there is some leeway in what our activity expects. So, boiled down, it’s important to understand what our tastes are and what to expect when we purchase models aligned to them.

Quality Hairing

Hairing was commonplace in the past, but is now quite rare, making it more of an option than a necessity. Nonetheless, a quality hair job still has the same high standards now as it did in the past. For starters, the hair must be of high quality material such as ramie or viscose, and be of realistic scale, tones, texture, and appearance. It must also be applied precisely and with an exacting hand to best mimic the look and lay of real hair, and be trimmed and groomed to duplicate the look of real manes, tails, or feathers. It must also be styled to be consistent to the representative specifics, or the movement depicted by the model.

Specific issues that would compromise hair workmanship would be, as follows:

• Glue that's suffused throughout the hair. It should only be present, at its most minimal possible to accomplish the job, along the crest and tailbone.
• Glue that has yellowed or discolored.
• Glue infused throughout the hair.
• Bald patches.
• If rooted, the slot along the crest is too wide .
• Hair that's too profuse, knotted, uncombed, “ratty,” puffy, matted, or fuzzy.
• If the hair is dirty or discolored.
• Not of a realistic length, texture, and lay to emulate the real appearance of horsehair.
• Hair the wrong tone for the coat color.
• Hair improperly trimmed, groomed or styled.
• If the hair at the dock forms a sloppy border or is improperly trimmed straight across rather than forming a crescent.
• If the end of the tailbone unnaturally protrudes through the hair. 
• If styling mousse or gel can be seen as a sheen on the body surface of the model.
• If hairing is out of scale to the model.
• If hairing is sloppily or clumsily done.

Workmanship Myths

Quality workmanship hosts a lot of confusion so plenty of false beliefs are floating around that need straightening out, such as the following:

• Not all champions have quality workmanship due to the confusion as to what it constitutes, even with judges.
• There’s little correlation between a model’s price and its workmanship status because plenty of expensive models don’t have thorough workmanship while plenty of less expensive models do. 
• Advertising a model as having quality workmanship does not make it so. If a model is advertised as thusly then, don’t take the claim at face value. Research who did the piece and when, ask about care or repairs done to it, ask about return policies and if there was a show record, ask how it placed, and under what judges and when. If in doubt, seek advice.
• If a model is advertised as “NAN Qualified,” “Multi NAN Qualified,” or having won NAN cards, don’t interpret these claims as a guarantee of quality workmanship. Frankly, there are many NAN qualified models and NAN champions lacking adequate workmanship thanks to the persistent confusion regarding the concept. 
• Although many artists claim to create quality workmanship, don’t take this claim at face value. There’s no guaranteed correlation between an artist’s claims, popularity, or bravado and quality workmanship. We should do our research and evaluate each piece on its own terms.
• Popular molds don’t necessarily correlate to quality workmanship. And be careful about getting excited over new pieces because it’s possible that they lack this essential quality. We should rely on our own judgment, trust our instincts, and seek outside advice if warranted.
• Newer works are not necessarily of better quality than older works. Granted, while skills can grow over time, quality workmanship is a standard independent of artistic development. 
• The misguided belief that quality workmanship has to catch one’s eye or be pretty or flashy to be successful in the show ring is common. The truth is that The Essentials are the fixed standard, independent of heartstrings, the “wow factor,” or personal taste, and it’s consistent to all models. A responsible judge won’t be duped by what is commonly referred to as “Pretty Horse Syndrome,” those models that are certainly eye-catching, but sorely lacking the steadfast components of quality workmanship. 
• We will often hear people boast about the amount of effort that went into a model’s creation, implying that it must have quality workmanship as a result. But the truth is that while it does take a lot of time and effort to create a quality piece, it can take that same amount of energy to create one that isn’t. The only thing that matters is if the quality is there, not the degree of effort it took to create it.
• A Custom doesn’t require a certain degree of alteration to have better quality. The truth is that quality workmanship hinges entirely on degree of its qualities, and not the degree of alteration. Indeed, many altered pieces are reduced in workmanship because of introduced errors.
• Quality workmanship isn’t the same for all scales. While each piece should absolutely adhere to the criteria, the smaller the scale, the harder this becomes, particularly on “minis.” Indeed, a mini presents a unique challenge in this regard simply due to its size. For example, getting the scale of anatomical features (like the joints and eyes) or painted aspects (like ticking, dapples, and cat–tracking) are much harder than on a larger piece. Precision becomes more difficult as does meticulous prepping since seams and molding relics tend to obscure more of the sculpture. So pay extra attention to minis. If they’re truly of quality workmanship, they should be difficult to identify from a larger piece in a good photo. They should also be able to “hold their own” against larger pieces on the table.
• Some shows will offer breed classes and “workmanship” classes, as through these things were separate issues. The idea is to allow superior paintwork on inferior “bodies” to have a place to succeed. However, this can cause a confusion about what it is we’re actually supposed to be judging, leaving judges to wonder when they judge the workmanship classes, “Isn’t this what I already judged in the Breed classes?” So we shouldn’t allow this contraction to confuse us: quality workmanship means that a piece should be able to enter both the Breed and Workmanship classes with equal success because it entails both the sculpture and the finishwork.

Custom Corrections

Customized plastic models often entail additional work to correct sculptural or molding problems to make the finished product more realistic. Much of this depends on the choice of the initial plastic model slated for customization since many molds are inherently more realistic than others. A good rule of thumb is that the more realistic the original plastic, the less corrective work is required during customization. If we’re unsure which models are good initial picks, seek advice.

Regardless, plastics typically need attention in these areas, as follows: 

• The sculptural fixing of body parts that have been distorted or damaged during the casting or molding process such as curvaceous long bones of the legs (“spaghetti legs”), misshapen ears, faces, hooves, joints, or other asymmetries and distortions caused by the mass production process.
• The sculptural correction of anatomy or conformation in areas where the original plastic is lacking.
• Infusion of details to include veining, capillaries, genitals, nerves, whisker bumps/moles, wrinkles, chestnuts, etc. 
• Restoration of compromised details such as resculpting areas that have been filled for the casting process or resculpting details that have suffered erasure or distortion. For example, resculpting of the groin, frogs, soles, ears, inside nostrils, the groove between the jar bars, or the depression between the lateral cartilages of the foot, or restoring veining, capillaries, nerves, whisker bumps/moles, wrinkles, chestnuts, etc.

It’s important to understand that some artists have an incomplete understanding of anatomy and may either choose more unrealistic plastic models, or their own corrections lack realism. Even though these models may be novel and exciting, it’s good policy to be well informed about quality workmanship before making a decision. 

Conclusion

There’s no better platform from which to launch our artistic endeavors than consistent quality workmanship. It defines all that we do, asking all those points to clear a bar—a bar that gets higher every year. This can make the creation of quality workmanship a bit intimidating, but if we break it down into its constituent points, we can baby–step our way towards success.

Now while these points may seem obvious as words, they aren’t when it comes to application. It's one thing to know something and entirely something else to do it. That's because everyone perceives existence differently and we need to be patient with each other since everyone’s on a learning curve. (For more insights on our perception, please refer to my blog series, What’s Reality Between A Couple Of Friends…And A Bunny?) There’s always room to grow, and always a way to improve our own quality workmanship.

But that also means that we may have errors in our own Sight that need amending just as much. This is how a thorough understanding of quality workmanship can gives us the means to improve our work, but to also defend it if need be. When we have facts—given to us by an understanding of quality workmanship—we’re in a better position to justify our creative decisions. We also increase the authority of our work and the strength of our Voice, two big positives. (To learn more about our artistic “voice,” please refer to my blog post, Your Artistic Voice.)

Above all, we should remember that quality workmanship is timeless. It’s careful thoroughness means that it will help our work to retain its value and be competitive for years to come, reassuring our collectors of a good investment. Quality workmanship also provides a stellar “first impression” to anyone who’s looking at or buying our work for the first time. When the hype about our work is validated by its actual quality, our reputations are bolstered, and that increases sales. Absolutely, collectors need to trust our work; they should never think they were a victim of “bait and switch.”

In the end, when we’re confident in our creativity, our satisfaction in our studio increases and we become ever more eager to explore our potential. This expands our body of work and cultivates its diversity and depth. Putting in the extra work is so worth the effort, and taking the time for research and development of our workmanship has huge payoffs in the long run. And it’s just a darned good feeling to say we’re “done” and be truly satisfied that we’ve done the very best we can. Besides to max out our abilities provides a new baseline for us to jump from into the next exciting project! And so it goes, ever forward and joyful!

So until next time…Yes! Jump in!

"You can't fake quality any more than you can fake a good meal."

~ William S. Burroughs

The Master's Edge: The Importance Of Quality Workmanship