Chapter 2: Massing with Primitive Stacks
Created by Sarah Choi (prompt writer using ChatGPT)
Massing with Primitive Stacks for Mecha Concept Artists
Massing is the skill of deciding what the machine is before you decide what it’s made of. For mecha, that means you learn to think in primitive stacks—boxes, wedges, cylinders, and tori—so you can invent believable forms fast, keep them stable in perspective, and compose shots that read at gameplay speed. Primitive stacking is not a beginner crutch; it’s the common language that lets concept artists, modelers, animators, and designers agree on volume, axis, and intent. When your primitives are coherent, you can push stylization, complexity, or realism without losing the underlying clarity.
A mecha drawing usually fails early for one of two reasons: the volumes don’t agree with the camera, or the volumes don’t agree with each other. Primitive stacks solve both. They let you lock down camera and proportion in minutes, then iterate a dozen silhouettes without repainting the whole piece. If you’re on the concepting side, this keeps your ideation nimble. If you’re on the production side, it keeps your designs buildable, riggable, and consistent across callouts, turnarounds, and variant sets.
Why primitives are the “engineering sketch” of concept art
Boxes, wedges, cylinders, and tori show up everywhere in mecha because they represent the most common mechanical families. Boxes read as armor housings, chassis blocks, batteries, ammo bins, and structural frames. Wedges read as aerodynamic fairings, knee guards, shoulder pauldrons, and “aggressive” directional plating. Cylinders read as joints, pistons, barrels, thrusters, and load-bearing sleeves. Tori (donut forms) read as bearings, collar joints, gimbals, hose loops, ring thrusters, and rotary mounts.
When you commit to these primitives early, you’re also committing to how the mech moves. A cylinder implies an axis. A torus implies rotation and a protected ring of hardware. A wedge implies push, speed, or threat. A box implies stability and mass. That is why primitive stacks translate so well from sketch to ship: they embed mechanical logic at the stage where it’s cheapest to change.
Perspective first: lock the camera, then stack the masses
Primitive stacking becomes powerful when you treat perspective as a constraint, not a suggestion. Before you design, decide what the camera is doing: horizon line placement, eye level relative to the mech, and whether the shot is wide (more convergence) or restrained (closer to orthographic). A heroic low horizon makes the mech feel dominant; a high horizon emphasizes terrain and scale cues; a neutral horizon is clearer for production packages.
Once the camera is chosen, build a “volume scaffold.” Start with the largest mass that defines the mech’s identity—often the torso or main hull. Place it as a box in perspective. Then attach secondary masses (hip block, shoulder blocks, backpack, chest pod) as additional boxes and wedges. Only after those are stable should you begin placing cylindrical joints and ring-like tori. This order matters: if you place joints first, you’ll end up “designing the skeleton” before you know what the body wants to be, which often leads to awkward proportions and crowded silhouettes.
A practical rule is to think in three tiers: primary masses define the silhouette, secondary masses define function, tertiary masses define detail. Primitive stacking is primarily about primary and secondary masses. If you solve those, tertiary detail becomes optional rather than required.
Box thinking: the backbone of hard-surface clarity
Boxes are the best tool for making mecha feel weighty and manufactured because they give you planar control. Planes can catch light, carry decals, and support panel seams in a way that feels industrial. When you design with boxes, think about which planes are “presented” to the viewer and which are turned away. A mech that reads well from a gameplay camera often has a few dominant planes that stay readable through motion—like a chest plane, shoulder planes, and a thigh plane.
Boxes also solve proportion quickly. A torso box can be tall and narrow for elegance, short and wide for tankiness, or asymmetrical for “field-modified” personality. You can subdivide boxes to suggest internal structure (frame inside armor), or chamfer edges to soften the read. In production, those box decisions guide topology, hard edges, and material breaks; in concepting, they guide silhouette and composition.
Wedge thinking: direction, threat, and airflow
Wedges are “intent shapes.” They point. They accelerate the eye. They create a sense of speed even in a standing pose. In mecha, wedges show up as knee plates, forearm armor, toe guards, shoulder cowls, and head crests. The key is to make wedges serve a purpose: deflection, aerodynamics, or intimidation.
In perspective, wedges can easily betray construction if their convergences don’t match the scene. Treat them as modified boxes: establish the box first, then slice it into a wedge. This keeps the wedge anchored. A common trick is to keep the wedge’s thick end connected to the primary mass and let the thin end project outward. This makes the mech feel armored rather than flimsy, and it gives you a reliable hierarchy of thickness.
Cylinder thinking: motion, joints, and load paths
Cylinders are where your mech becomes mechanical. A cylinder implies rotation, sliding, or containment. Use cylinders to show how forces travel: shoulder drums feeding into upper arm sleeves, thigh housings feeding into shin pistons, neck collars supporting a head gimbal. The goal is not to draw every cylinder perfectly; it’s to keep axes consistent.
If you’re designing for production, cylinders are also the bridge to rigging. A shoulder cylinder tells the rigger where the primary rotation axis likely is. A telescoping cylinder suggests extension limits. When cylinders are placed late—after boxes and wedges are established—you can choose the most logical axes instead of forcing the design to accommodate a joint you drew too early.
Torus thinking: bearings, collars, and “rotational credibility”
The torus is underused by many concept artists, but it’s one of the most believable mecha primitives because real machines love rings. Rings protect moving hardware, distribute load, and clarify rotational motion. A torus or ring collar around a shoulder or hip instantly communicates a pivot joint. A ring around a thruster implies a gimbal mount. Even hose loops and cable bundles can be simplified as partial tori.
In composition, tori create attractive rhythm: repeated rings can lead the eye and create an industrial motif. In production, rings can become modular assets across a mech family, which is valuable for both indie reuse and AAA consistency.
Primitive stacks as a silhouette engine
One of the fastest ways to generate good mecha silhouettes is to build “stack recipes.” A recipe is a repeatable arrangement of primitives that produces a consistent read. For example, a heavy artillery recipe might be: wide torso box + deep wedge chest + big shoulder cylinder drums + backpack box with cylinder barrels + hip torus collar. A scout recipe might be: tall narrow torso box + sleek wedge chest + shrouded cylinder joints + compact backpack wedge + thin hip ring.
Recipes keep you from designing randomly. They also help teams: you can describe a mech family in primitive language and everyone immediately understands the proportion and function. When you iterate, you change one ingredient at a time—widen the torso box, swap the shoulder cylinders for lower-profile rings, sharpen the wedges—so you can clearly see why a silhouette improved or degraded.
Construction discipline: how to keep stacks from collapsing
The most common failure in primitive stacking is “floating attachments.” A forearm cylinder gets glued onto an upper arm box with no transitional structure, so it looks like a toy. The fix is to add a connector primitive that explains the relationship: a collar ring, a bracket box, or a wedge fairing. Real machines rarely jump from one primitive family to another without a coupling.
Another failure is inconsistent scale language. If your torso box is drawn with thick walls and heavy chamfers, but your leg cylinders are thin and delicate, the mech’s material story becomes confusing. Decide early whether this is a chunky, armored machine or a lighter, skeletal one, and keep primitive thickness and edge treatment consistent.
A third failure is overstacking. If you keep adding primitives without removing or merging, the design becomes noisy. A strong habit is to periodically “compress” the design: ask which primitives can become one mass, and which silhouettes can be simplified without losing the role read.
Composition: using massing to stage readability
Massing is composition because large volumes create the biggest value shapes and the clearest read. When you place a mech in a shot, think about the big negative shapes between masses: the gap between torso and arm, the triangle between thigh and calf, the silhouette notch under a shoulder cowl. Those negative shapes are your readability insurance in motion blur, distance, and UI clutter.
Primitive stacks help you design those negative shapes intentionally. A wedge shoulder can create a clean armpit notch. A torus hip collar can create a clear waist break. A cylinder forearm can create a strong line of action. If you can see these relationships in primitive form, you won’t need to “detail your way out” of readability problems later.
For concepting deliverables, you can push composition by exaggerating primitive overlaps and foreshortening. For production deliverables, you often want to flatten composition slightly so parts are unambiguous. The same primitive scaffold can serve both; the difference is camera treatment and how much you allow perspective drama to distort measurements.
From ideation to handoff: how primitives support both roles
In early concepting, primitives are a speed tool for brainstorming. You can thumbnail ten mech bodies by swapping box proportions and wedge angles, then only invest time in the best two. This is especially effective when you’re aligning to a brief: role, faction language, tech level, and tone can all be tested in massing without committing to surface detail.
In production concepting, primitives become a communication tool. When you hand off to 3D, a clean primitive scaffold helps the modeler confirm proportions quickly. When you hand off to rigging, cylinder and torus placement helps them infer joint axes. When you hand off to design, your massing helps them judge readability and hit volume expectations. A primitive-based drawing is not “less finished”; it’s often more truthful.
If you’re doing a final paint, keep the primitive scaffold alive underneath. Rendering should reveal the primitives, not bury them. Edge highlights on boxes, subtle curvature on cylinders, and consistent ring geometry on tori make the mech feel manufactured.
Paneling and primitives: seams follow mass, not vice versa
Panel lines should respect the primitive families. On boxes, seams often follow plane boundaries and structural breaks. On wedges, seams can reinforce direction and thickness. On cylinders, seams wrap and compress with curvature. On tori, seams often segment rings into serviceable arcs or indicate layered collars.
A useful production mindset is to treat paneling as “assembly truth.” If a primitive is a separate part, it gets a seam. If it’s a continuous casting or forged piece, it may have fewer seams but stronger material transitions. When you align panel logic with primitive logic, your mech becomes easier to build and easier to read.
A practical stacking workflow you can repeat every time
Begin with a two-minute “role block.” Place a torso box and a pelvis box; set leg direction with two big cylinders; set shoulder width with two boxes; set head position with a small box or cylinder. This is your silhouette skeleton. Then do a five-minute “function block” where you choose wedges for armor direction and add ring collars at major joints. Only after that do you commit to smaller cylinders and connectors.
When the block feels right, do a cleanup pass where you unify the stack. Merge unnecessary primitives, add transitional couplers, and refine proportions. Then decide your deliverable path: if this is ideation, produce more variants by swapping one primitive ingredient at a time; if this is production, start making a clear orthographic or semi-ortho view and annotate axes and separations.
Training drills that build real mecha mileage
One drill is “stack silhouettes.” Set a timer and build ten silhouettes using only primitives, no details. Your goal is to communicate role and faction through proportion alone. Another drill is “joint logic.” Take one primitive stack and redesign the shoulder and hip systems three different ways using cylinders and tori, keeping the torso mass unchanged. This teaches you to iterate mechanics without losing identity.
A third drill is “camera triad.” Draw the same primitive stack in three views: a dramatic low-angle promo shot, a gameplay-like mid shot, and a production-friendly near-ortho. Notice what breaks first in each camera. This makes you better at choosing when to exaggerate and when to clarify.
The takeaway: primitives make your mecha trustworthy
Massing with primitive stacks is about trust. The viewer trusts the machine because the volumes agree with perspective and with each other. The team trusts the concept because the axes make sense, the joints imply motion, and the silhouette reads. Boxes give you structure, wedges give you direction, cylinders give you mechanics, and tori give you rotational credibility. When you stack them with intention and hierarchy, you can move fluidly between concept exploration and production clarity—and your mecha designs become easier to iterate, easier to hand off, and harder to break.