The Austro-Hungarian Albatros D.III / Oeffag 253 in Art, by Ron Cole

When I was a kid my family and I had been close friends with Dr. Marty O'Connor for years. He was, among other things, the world's best known scholar and author on the subject of the Austro-Hungarian air forces in World War One. Even though he died tragically over twenty years ago, his name and his work remains some of the best material available on any of the Great War air services. And he was a great friend; my unofficial Godfather.

I recently came into the possession, through a trade, of an original J.J. Muller aircraft fuel gauge. Made in Vienna in 1918, it was used in several Austro-Hungarian aircraft including their licence-built Albatros D.III - known in Austria as the Oeffag 253. The first thing that I thought of was Marty. If he were still around he'd tell me the name of the guy who designed it and some anecdotal story about having met him many years before. Probably! In any case I was excited by the excuse the instrument had provided: I'd always wanted to paint something dedicated to Dr. O'Connor, and I started doing research.

I found a great color scheme for a late-war Albatros D.III. I remembered what Marty had told me about how these aircraft were painted in the field. He told me all about the paints used and how they didn't usually cover well and soon weathered. Unit markings were often painted atop older crosses, which bled through, and late war crosses were added in different places. I put all of that information to use in my painting.

I'd always been hesitant to weather or show crudely-painted markings in my work because the effect might look sloppy, but I disregarded those fears here. I thought that if I rendered the majority of the aircraft in very sharp detail, then things like the sloppily-hand-painted white fuselage markings would 'read' as intended: as accurately-depicted wartime markings.

The plywood fuselage was fun! And the hammered metal cowling parts were an interesting challenge. I put a lot of effort into making each material component look authentic.

The end product would be a one-of-a-kind piece printed on canvas at 24 x 36 inches, framed, and combined with the original fuel gauge.

I hope Marty would be proud!

- Ron Cole

Japanese WWII Aircraft Aotake Primer Coats - Part II

A6M3 Mod. 32 252nd Kokutai - by Ron Cole

People argue, especially scale aircraft modelers, about the application and colorization of a certain unique World War II-era Japanese aircraft primer called Aotake: It's blue, it's green; more one than the other, and so on. As I revealed in an earlier article on this Blog, the most intriguing thing about Aotake is that it's all of the above. Colors range a wide gamut, from blue to green and everything in between.

But there's even more to the Aotake story.

As a translucent primer coating the stuff was applied during many different stages of an aircraft's production, at the main factories and among the many smaller subcontractors that were employed to manufacture parts. A piece of aluminum stock would be stamped, then coated with a layer of Aotake to prevent flash corrosion. Then that part would be drilled and cut, then given another coat of Aotake. After that part was riveted into place within the air frame it would be coated a third time or more. The procedure was generally to ensure that no bare metal was exposed to the air for any length of time. Then, in some areas of the aircraft, a matte black coat of paint was often applied - as a further measure of protection or to cut down on the glare of the glossy Aotake, it's not known.

  
It's generally accepted that there were two main variations of Aotake: a blue and a green (though other shades including yellow have been encountered). Some have suggested a number of different means to predict the application of either variant - time frame, manufacturer, or other. In reality both blue and green could be expected to be seen in any random aircraft regardless of manufacturer or time frame - until the worsening war situation saw Aotake's use abandoned altogether. The above twin samples are both parts of the main wing spar of the same Zero fighter: Mitsubishi-built A6M3 Mod. 32 Zero (serial number 3148), built in September 1942. These are about the greatest extremes of green and blue encountered within this aircraft, yet they are from the same wing spar. Variations to include shades between these two extremes were examined elsewhere within this machine, dependent upon multiple layers applied of both colors.

Both of the above color samples are indicative of light coatings of Aotake. Elsewhere the lightness of the color ranges to almost black - indicating a much heavier application.

 
The aluminum parts above reveals the effect of Aotake as applied in multiple layers during construction. These samples are straps to hold bottles of compressed oxygen in place aft of the pilot's seat, but this effect can be seen throughout the aircraft. These parts were cut and drilled, coated with Aotake, assembled, and re-coated. Note also that even here we see subtle variations in the color between blue and green.

In short, the Japanese wartime application procedures, with their resultant innumerable variations in color, produces both a blessing and curse to modelers who wish to replicate them. A well done interior of a scale model would be a dazzling patchwork of glossy bright color - but good luck with that truly laborious project!

- Ron Cole

Maserati Grantourismo: Owner's Report

This is admittedly not an article based upon my work as an aviation artist, even though it is here published on my aviation art Blog. Truth be told: I wasn't about to start a new Blog just to articulate my view of the Maserati Grantourismo after one month of ownership. My aviation artwork success bought this car - I suppose that's a connection that can justify its publication on my art Blog. I guess.

What can I say about this machine built in Modena after a full 30 days of ownership; driving it almost endlessly around my small Ohio town even when I could take the Acura, conveniently forgetting this and that in order to justify another short trip behind it's elegant piano black steering wheel? A lot! So much, in fact, that it's hard to pick a place to start.

Without going into the history of this particular Maserati design and its pedigree, it is nevertheless a creation of Pininfarina and Ferrari. The latter is responsible for the V8 under the hood, and the former for its coch work. Maserati has never claimed that this car was deliberately made to embody the amazing 1967 Ferrari 275 GTB in both spirit and looks - but it is, every bit as much as Ford's vaunted 'GT' is a new GT40. If the 275 happens to be your all time favorite car, as it has been mine for years, then you may well find yourself finding a way to put a Grantourismo in your garage. That's exactly what happened to me.

Ferrari 275 GTB by Pininfarina.

 
If you've never owned an Italian car before then buying a car like this has much in common with exploring a newly discovered alien planet. It is very different. Coming at this car from an Infiniti G37S coupe, it was totally new to me. But newbies are not alone and we chat among ourselves in online forums: Does your CEL pop on and then turn off for no reason? Is it true that the car remains electronically 'on' unless the doors are locked? Could anyone test that? The answer to most alarmist inquiries is that it's an 'Italian quirk'. And this car has a few of those, though still far less than most of its predecessors.

The Grantourismo is a very reliable car that, according to many, can certainly be a daily driver that even handles snow relatively well (it has a button to turn on 'snow mode' after all). Drive it hard and drive it often. It won't break more often than any other car - but it will cost a small fortune to fix. Very true. The nearest certified dealership is 90 miles away from me and charges $250 per-hour. Note to self.

Driving this car is pure joy, and my non-race-car-driver wife wholly agrees. In 'normal' mode you'd think you were driving a Bentley. It's smooth as glass and quiet as can be. Too quiet, in my opinion. I want to hear more of that famous Ferrari exhaust note, but that pleasure belongs only to the drivers around you. The transmission in this car is arguably the best system that money can buy. It syncs perfectly under all conditions, and if you're a professional driver who thinks he can manually shift this car faster or better - you're wrong. It's that quick and flawless. No wonder this car is not available as a manual.

Push the 'sport mode' button and all sorts of things happen that helps explain why people think this is actually two cars wrapped into one. The exhaust opens up, the suspension stiffens, and the gear ratios change. I drive my Maserati in sport mode almost all of the time. If anything negative can be said about this system, it's that you get used to the feeling of one mode and when you switch to the other the difference can be mildly disconcerting. This happened to me today on the way to Columbus. I disengaged 'sport' and I spent the next ten miles trying to determine if my tires had lost some air, or what. It was just the suspension in 'Bentley' mode!

This Maserati has, what I sincerely believe to be, ferocious power. In top gear with 'sport' off, press the accelerator and you think you're hitting light speed in Han Solo's Falcon. Much quicker and it would scare me. Off the line it's exactly .4 seconds slower than Jaguar's monster XKR with its 510 hp (the car I almost bought). It can reliably destroy 95% of anything it's likely to encounter in its life - should that be one's ambition. Yet other reviewers have called the Grantourismo 'somewhat under-powered'. I have to ask: Compared to what???

But as a vehicle I want my wife to drive as often as I do, this is not a car that is very capable of getting itself into trouble. So far I've found it impossible to overwhelm the rear wheels in a corner, for example. Race purists might be annoyed by that, but it's also true that I haven't turned the traction control system off yet.

      
I lucked out on the interior of this car. It's a beautiful light tan leather, black suede, and piano black combination. The leather stitching exactly matches the exterior paint. I'm a designer, and I could not have conjured up a more elegant combination myself. I love it! Having said that, we can't expect that Modena cared for long term resilience when it picked its leathers, nor to have put function over form when it mapped out the controls. Better than other Italians it is, but there are still 'quirks'. There are no cruise control buttons on the steering wheel, for example. Those buttons are only to operate the Bose sound system, but they're so unresponsive that I just go straight to the dash. But pretty? Oh, yes! And in spite of these quirks I can't say I'd change a thing if it detracted from the overall visual appeal.

Last but not least, this car comes with a selection of baggage that might be deemed a positive or a negative, depending upon the person behind the wheel. Because I'm a very socially reclusive person, to me it can be a bit of a negative. Driving this car is like driving a Broadway show on wheels! Yes, everyone looks at you. Yes, those girls in the rear view mirror are taking pictures of your car with their cell phones. Yes, you will be stopped by people in most parking lots, and you will smile, be nice, and give them a personal tour no matter how busy your day is - because you can't be 'that jerk' in the Maserati. It exhausts me sometimes. I feel very under the microscope, and that's why I tinted the windows midway through the third week of ownership. Not because it looks cool, but to give me some anonymity as I drive. Don't get me wrong: I love meeting new people, but sometimes it gets to be too much.

This car stickers for $139,000 new, but I paid much less for mine with a mere 24,000 miles on it. Did I experience buyer's remorse? I did experience temporary remorse after I bought my Infiniti, but not after I bought this car. It's beautiful, it's fast, it's comfortable, it's timeless, it's relatively practical. With 100,000 miles on it and when it's 10 years old - it's still a Maserati! Just please, God, please, God - help me avoid door dings. :)

- Ron Cole