Christian Spencer-Davies makes a living building diminutive versions of architects鈥 visions. It鈥檚 a life of long hours, difficult customers and little or no recognition. Why does he do it?

One of the most eye-catching sights at this year鈥檚 Venice Biennale was not an exhibit. Sporting luminous purple hair and matching shirt and sunglasses, modelmaker Christian Spencer-Davies was vying for attention with the models on show in the British pavilion 鈥 including the three made by his workshop, A-Models. These were Alsop & St枚rmer鈥檚 C/plex interactive community arts centre in West Bromwich, Zaha Hadid鈥檚 mind zone at the Millennium Dome and David Chipperfield鈥檚 Davenport Art Museum in Iowa.

Spencer-Davies鈥 flamboyant style seems at odds with the usual low profile of modelmakers, who are rarely even credited for their work. When, at the 1999 Royal Academy Summer Exhibition, his model of Alsop & St枚rmer鈥檚 Hanover Expo pavilion was shortlisted for the 拢25 000 award for the most distinguished work, it ranked alongside paintings by David Hockney, Anselm Kiefer and Patrick Caulfield. However, nobody on the jury even thought of inviting him to the presentation dinner. 鈥淚n the end, Christophe Egret from Alsop & St枚rmer was going to try to smuggle me in,鈥 says Spencer-Davies. 鈥淗ockney won it, and gave the prize money to charity. I was gutted.鈥

In February, the Swedish culture minister was more gracious. Impressed by his model of Brisac Gonzalez鈥檚 competition-winning design for the Museum of World Culture in Gothenburg, she invited Spencer-Davies to Sweden for the launch. 鈥淢ost of the time you have to blag your way into these events, even when your stuff is in there. It鈥檚 crazy,鈥 he says.

He may not get much recognition from the public, but architects value Spencer-Davies鈥 talents enough to pay 拢25 000 for large models such as the ones in Venice. His first client was Alsop & St枚rmer, but the list now reads like a roll-call of signature architects, including Future Systems, Wilkinson Eyre Architects, Jeremy Dixon.Edward Jones, Eva Jiricna, Matthew Priestman and Crispin Wride. His work is crucial to their chances of winning competitions. 鈥淎 model is the most brilliant selling tool,鈥 he says. 鈥淚t makes the design instantly understandable and convincing.鈥

When big competitions come around, Clerkenwell-based A-Models often works on several entries simultaneously, toiling for 24 hours if necessary to meet the deadline. For the ongoing Oslo Opera House competition, for example, the firm made models for both Alsop & St枚rmer and Matthew Priestman. When such intensive labour can earn so little recognition, some might wonder whether the business is worth it. But, for Spencer-Davies, it鈥檚 the creativity of the process that counts. He gave up product design for Conran Design Group because it was not creative enough. 鈥淭he final straw was drawing flowers on fondue sets. Because it is a real product, there is nothing of you in it,鈥 he says. 鈥淲ith architecture, you have to interpret the design 鈥 everything you do is abstracted, the detail is simplified, the materials are different 鈥 and the final product is viewed as a beautiful model, a piece of sculpture in its own right.鈥

After leaving Conran, he trained with modelmaker Network for five years before joining architect YRM鈥檚 in-house workshop, which he bought out during the early 1990s recession. He now turns over 拢750 000 and employs eight people, nearly all modelmaking graduates with more than 10 years鈥 experience. They interpret the designs 鈥 鈥渁nything from full construction drawings to a sketch on the back of a card鈥 鈥 using materials such as Perspex, timber, metal, etched brass and steel wool for trees. They can spend anything from a couple of days on a 拢500 study model to a month on a 拢20 000 presentation model. Spencer-Davies says the working relationships with architects are happy if the modelmakers are given creative freedom.

鈥淚 get on very well with clients because I enjoy making fun models. We encourage them to be more daring, colourful, use a variety of materials.鈥 His first client, Alsop & St枚rmer, remains a firm favourite. 鈥淲ill gives us free rein over colour. He鈥檒l say: 鈥楳ake that as jazzy as you like,鈥 and he is one of the few people who would go ahead and build it.鈥

In general, he says, the best architects to work for are those who are confident without being control freaks, 鈥渢he ones who don鈥檛 hesitate in making decisions and just say: 鈥楥hange this, or change that.鈥 The worst kind are the ones who worry about what their boss might think and fuss over detail.鈥

A-Models does not advertise, relying instead on word of mouth. 鈥淥ur business is blossoming by encouraging people to use models again. Before the recession, people had got used to spending thousands on models, but then they thought they could not afford them. Three-quarters of the models we make are between 拢2000 and 拢8000, little jewel-like ones.鈥 In fact, Spencer-Davies has to cut short the interview to get cracking on one. 鈥淚 saw Penoyre & Prasad today and they need a model by Thursday,鈥 he says. Does he ever say it can鈥檛 be done? 鈥淣ot often. It is not the money 鈥 I get tempted by nice projects.鈥

Personal effects Age 36 Where do you live and with whom? In New Barnet with my wife, Sally, an administrator for Unison, and our eight-year-old daughter Bront毛. What do you do to relax? Gardening, cycling, messing around on my scooter, snowboarding 鈥 I鈥檝e just been for four weeks in Colorado 鈥 and taking my wife and daughter to see modern buildings. What鈥檚 with the purple hair? I dyed it to go with the shirt my wife bought me for the Venice Biennale. It was bright red before. I am thinking about bottle-green next. Where do you get it done? The Klinik in Exmouth Market, Islington, north London. What kind of music do you like? Yo-Yo Ma, the classical cellist, and Travis. What鈥檚 your favourite building? I like the interior of the Klinik. It was by a young practice called Block Architecture. What are you reading? The Tao of Bruce Lee.