New York City Hot Rodding with Brian Darwas

Brian Darwas has established a solid, world-wide reputation for his hot rods. He and his brother Jason build strict, 1950s period-correct machines from a garage in New York City's the Bronx[1] where they have groomed deep connections to the local hot rod community. His website atomichotrods.com is legendary, and he has an active social media presence. He is a senior member of the Rumblers CC and has made many award-winning films that document hot rod culture that include: Three Mile (2015), This is Long Beach (2013), White Knuckle (2012), A Sweet Sickness: The Flathead Movie (2011) The Devil At Your Feet (2009) and The Road to Bonneville (2008). All the films combine hardcore music soundtracks with images of noteworthy people, cars and locations.  [Brian was also a judge at the original Motorcycle Film Festival, founded by our Film Curator Corinna Mantlo - ed.]

In recent years Brian has broadened his filmmaking interests beyond motoring, into the horror genre with: Mail Order Murder: the Story Of W.A.V.E. Productions (2019), Early Days and Night of Vengeance (2018), The Road Leads to Terror: The Locations of Last House (2018), Elmer’s Turf: The NYC Locations of ‘Brain Damage’ (2017) and Get My Gun (2017). He is also a self-taught musician who plays bass guitar in notorious and legendary NYHC (New York Hard Core) bands like Roger Miret and the Disasters and Agnostic Front .. you must watch this 2015 YouTube video of Agnostic Front's “Old New York” that Brian shot illegally on the elevated subway train.

Brian Darwas in his punk rock bass playing era, in this photo with Roger Miret and the Disasters. [Discog]
Brian’s rep in the hot rod community reveals a hard-working, no bullshit guy who values the pre high-tech working habits and hard materials of yesteryear, used to build period correct pre-1955 parts cars that preserve 1940s and ‘50s hot rod building culture. He specializes in ‘recycling old steel' - finding and rehabilitating discarded and unused materials into functioning parts. His methods emphasize a hands on DIY approach that he first learned as a young boy when his father refused to throw away broken appliances until an effort was made to repair them. Today, Brian and his brother build hot rods that are meant to be driven and raced, not checkbook, ‘trailer queens’. They don’t cut corners with time, effort and materials and the process of maintaining a historical connection between the materials and the methods is critical.

Brian when he filmed 'White Knuckle', about the first Motorcycle Cannonball in 2010, which we screened in the first Motorcycle Film Festival. [Brian Darwas]
Over the years, finding and keeping a garage work space has been increasingly difficult in New York, where real estate development is ruthless. Recently, the garage on 165th street near Yankee Stadium where Brian and several Rumblers members wrenched on their cars was sold and a luxury condominium tower now stands in the original property footprint. “Several of my friends had a garage space up by 165th street and Jerome Avenue in the Bronx near Yankee Stadium where we worked on cars,” Brian recalled. “It has always been a rough area in the city with a reputation. I am born and raised in the Bronx and I still live and wrench there. The garage is gone now and it’s a luxury condo tower. Ya, this is how it goes all around the city. Working spaces and garages are being knocked down.

Brian Darwas' 1932 Ford roadster hotrod. [Mike McCabe]
“I was born February 14, 1977. My family lived next to the Hutch (Hutchinson Parkway). When I was a kid my brother and his friends would go to the Howard Johnsons restaurant near the Whitestone movie theater and they would have a weekly cruise night. All the guys would talk shit to each other and challenge each other. They’d make their bets and then go onto the Hutch a little past the Orchard Beach exit. Three cars would stop on the highway, stop all the traffic and then two cars would set up and race.  As a kid I would go with him and watch the races. As a younger guy I had a ’77 Chevelle, and a ’66 Pontiac LeMans. The motor from that LeMans is in my current ’32 Ford. I had a ’52 Willy’s, it kinda looked like a small Shoebox Ford. The first hot rod I built was a ’29 roadster pick-up.

1949- ’53 Ford Flathead motor (8BA) capped with high compression Offenhauser heads (8.6:1). The engine is fed by an Offenhauser 2x2 intake (with two 94s). [Mike McCabe]
“My parents moved out of that apartment and we moved into a house in the Bronx. We didn’t have enough garage space to work on a car so I built that roadster in the basement of the house. When I disassembled it to paint it I brought the pieces into the back yard, painted them and put the car back together. It was a roadster pick-up. I carried the chassis, the body and the bed outside one piece at a time. My parents were cool with it. It took me a little over six months. It was the first one I ever did.  It was kind of a learning experience and I registered it and drove it.

Dropped axle up front with lengthened and split Model A wishbone (to match the length of ’32 wishbones). Ford nine inch out back held in place by 1937 Ford (rear) wishbones (with gusseted top links for added strength). [Mike McCabe]
“I have an interest in older machines. I like knowing how stuff works. For me, I can’t just know that it works, I need to know how it works and why it works… so that’s where that interest in stuff like that comes from. And also, older machines and cars. To open them up and see how they work and why they work. Which components drive what other components… I like knowing how stuff works. With older cars you can open it up and pinpoint the problem. You can look at the parts and connect the dots. Now you can’t do that. Now the distributor cap and computer tells the cylinders when to fire. I appreciate the ingenuity of building a mechanical object. Like a shot gun… When you rack a shotgun, it works itself… all the pieces move. It’s the simplest design… It’s been the same for 200 years… You know… I am very interested in that. These old cars are around because over the years someone has maintained them. I am only able to get an old car because somebody maintained it. So now I feel I am maintaining it for the next generation to get it at some point. I like a lot of cool old stuff and if no one else cared for it, maintained it, I wouldn’t be able to own it. It wouldn’t exist for me.  Hopefully the next generation will be into this stuff.

1953 Buick steering wheel. ’32 dash with a finned aluminum gauge cluster and glove box. [Mike McCabe]
“I understand the drama of nostalgic things. This is one reason people honk at me and my car. I wasn’t alive when my car was built the first time. My Ford is from a time when people were more hands-on about things. Today, eight out of ten guys can’t change a flat tire. My car and cars like it are from a time when a high school kid wanted a race car so he bought a junked car from the ‘30s and he worked on it himself and he made a hot rod. The main passion in his life was his car. I am attracted to that aspect of it. It’s my car and I built it. I’m driving it and if anything goes wrong I can fix it. It is more personal to me. I like stuff from before my time. Stuff from the ‘20s, ‘30s, ‘40s, ’50s. I am not sure young people are like this now. Everything is replaceable now. When I was a kid, anything broken in the house my father fixed it. There was a value in knowing how to maintain stuff.  I don’t think this process is very common these days. Maybe 40 years ago, people would have fixed it.

"The car was built by us a few years back and has been on the road. It does have a couple marks here and there in the paint, it’s a driver." [Mike McCabe]
“With my ’32 Ford I have changed things with the car but it’s subtle. I want the car to look like it was built that way. I might see something and I don’t like the way it was originally done, so when I change it, I want it to look like it was built that way originally. I want to integrate it into the original design. Like with my ‘32 Ford, I pinched down the nose of the frame, to change the look of the car, the stance, but it’s not obvious. You can’t see it unless you know the ins and outs of the car. I didn’t go to an automotive high school or a tech school. I figured this out on my own from talking with people and studying on my own.

Sweet Ford flathead from above. [Mike McCabe]
“It’s amazing that old cars have survived in a place like New York. The streets are really bad, the drivers are really bad, the congestion…  New York City is interesting because it’s an interconnected series of islands. A lot of bridges and tunnels… It’s interesting. I dive my ’32 Five Window Coup most of the year. Not in the winter and not in the rain but most of the time this is what I drive in the city. I get some looks but this is what I drive.”

Ultra-smooth rear end. [Mike McCabe]
Side view of the '32 Ford roadster. [Mike McCabe]
Taking a ride in another of Brian's hot rods, as seen in the garage. [Mike McCabe]
Brian and his brother Jason recently completed a ground up build ’32 Ford Roadster. Every aspect of the car reflects the values and aesthetic reasoning that both brothers live by[2].

[1] New York City has five boroughs, Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens and the Bronx... known for its consistent highest crime statistics.

[2] 1932 Roadster, all steel Brookville Body. The car sits on a ’32 Frame with stock front and rear cross members (the rear cross member has been flattened to bring the back of the car down for a better stance).

 

Darwas' film 'A Sweet Sickness' is one of many available on his website. [AtomicHotrods.com]
Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

by Michael McCabe

Daredevil Tattoo Bike Night

Custom chopper motorcycles and bold tattoos share the same rebellious turf- they both turn heads, demand attention and attract people who challenge the status quo. Michelle Myles and her business partner Brad Fink opened Daredevil Tattoo with this same disruptive spirit in 1997, at its first location on Ludlow Street on the Lower East Side, immediately after New York City repealed its 36-year ban on the practice. At that time, the Lower East Side was a risky territory, with CBGB's Punk and LES Hard Core set the musical soundtrack. Loud custom motorcycles from Steg’s Psycho Cycles[1] where Indian Larry and Paul Cox worked, cracked the evening air with a deep outlaw spirit that was the glue that held the neighborhood together.

Bike contest winner Mike Mojardo with this 2000 Dyna custom. [Mike McCabe]
Daredevil then moved in 2014 to its current location at 141 Division Street where it became an anchor of the lively ‘Dimes Square’ area. Throughout the shop’s history, Michelle and Brad have actively collected important examples of historic tattoo design sheets (Flash), and the shop is now a legendary tattoo museum destination with recognized status. Michelle is a New York City licensed history tour guide, who gives private tours of historical Bowery tattoo locations.

A few of the bikes that joined the party at Daredevil Tattoo. [Mike McCabe]
“This is the first year we have done “Bike Night”, Michelle said. “We’ve been wanting to do it for a while. Two of the tattooers who work here, Noah and Marco, have impressive custom bikes they built and some other people who come into the shop all the time have bikes they have built themselves. I think that’s how the word got out about the event.

Daredevil Tattoo artist Ellen Perry with some of the shop's historic tattoo flash collection. [Mike McCabe]
“It was a really good turn-out, Michelle continued. “There were probably more than 70 bikes curbed down Division Street. The weather was completely perfect. We were saying it was good it was on a Thursday night - a school night - so it didn’t get too out of hand. It was such a nice vibe, very positive and fun.

Michelle Myles at her Daredevil Tattoo shop. [Mike McCabe]
“It was the night before the New York City Tattoo Convention. So many tattooers from out of town were here visiting friends. The Bike Night event was something to bring everybody together to kick off the convention. We had a bike-building competition with a very cool custom trophy made by my husband Kevin (McGoey). We picked five finalists out of all the bikes that showed up, and picked the favorite out of that group. The bike that won was built by Mike Monjardo and some of his friends who contributed. It’s a 2000 Dyna chopper he built in his garage. The paint was done by Chemical Candy Customs out of Texas. The fabrication was done by Yard Ratz Fabrication of Copiague, NY.

Motorcycle street party in NYC. [Mike McCabe]
“At our shop, we really focus on traditional tattooing,” Michelle said. “Because we have the tattoo museum that’s part of our shop. Our name Daredevil came from the whole thing about hot rods and motorcycles. Back in the ‘Old Days' - the 1990s - I was friends with Indian Larry: there’s just such a strong motorcycle culture in the Lower East Side, thanks a lot to [his former shop] Psycho Cycles. Even before Larry opened Gasoline Alley in Brooklyn. Back in the ‘90s the shop was right there on Rivington Street with Steg. We were all friends. I had an old car, a 1966 Riviera that was always breaking down and Larry was a good guy who helped me learn about motors; he’d bring me broken lawn mower motors so I could try to fix them.

Danielle, a shop assistant at Daredevil, with more of the shop's historic flash collection. [Mike McCabe]
“Just the name of our shop, Daredevil… I always think of Evel Knievel… So, we’ve always had the connection to hot rods and motorcycles. Next year is our 30th anniversary, so we’re going to have another Bike Night next year. It was totally a hit.”

Two of the customs ridden in to the bike show: classic 'NYC style' choppers with short wheelbases and rigid frames, built for riding in city traffic. [Mike McCabe]
Michelle’s Daredevil Tattoo has been an important destination on the Lower East Side for thirty years. The shop combines a deep respect for tattoo history with hot rod-motorcycle rebelliousness that has always been a part of life in the neighborhood.

Daredevil Tattoo artist Marco Vergel at work during the show. [Mike McCabe]
[1] Steg Von Heintz (often spelled Steg Heinz) is a custom motorcycle builder and key figure associated with Psycho Cycles, the famous custom chopper shop originally rooted in New York City (on Avenue C) before later operating in locations like California.

Background and History

  • New York Roots: Steg started building his iconic chopper, "Maxine," in NYC around 1989, treating the build as his apprenticeship in custom motorcycle fabrication.
  • Psycho Cycles: Steg took charge and operated Psycho Cycles, building a reputation for high-performance, raw, custom-built choppers and bobbers.
  • The Bike "Maxine": His legendary custom Shovelhead chopper (Maxine) features a modified Santee frame, one-off STD shovelhead cylinders, and runs on high-octane racing fuel, capable of hitting high speeds. (from Google). “The motor is an absolute beast and the bike can run 10:20s and 10:30s all day long at 135 miles an hour.” (Steg- from Facebook video).

 

The scene at Bike Night. [Mike McCabe]
The Bike Contest trophy hand fabricated by Kevin McGoey. [Mike McCabe]
Keith and his daughter Emily - a tattoo artist at local shops. [Mike McCabe]
Bike Night attendee. [Mike McCabe]
 

 

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

 

by Michael McCabe

Vasileios Papaidis and Greek Moto Culture

Greece has influenced Western civilization since 2000 BC.  The famous philosophers Socrates, Plato and Aristotle developed a system of logic that enabled a new way of thinking about how humans interacted with the natural world. This encouraged the interpretation of the phenomenon of daily existence through observable, fact-based outcomes. A new perspective pushed aside illogical, magical thinking superstition and this enabled the development of the ‘Scientific Method’ and the revolution of mathematics, engineering, physics and design. Greek philosopher Anaxagoras (c.500-428 BC) connected this logic to the making of things with the ‘intelligence’ of the human hand[1]. Centuries later, the machine age burst into being as an outcome of this process that resulted in the invention of the internal combustion engine, cars and motorcycles. This process can all be traced to the logic of the Greeks.

Vasileios on a friend's c.1938 Moto Guzzi GTV 500 in Thessaloniki. [Mike McCabe]
Vasileios Papaidis lives in the second largest Greek city, Thessaloniki, 500km north of Athens. He and his friends actively create a vital moto-culture lifestyle that combines vintage motorcycles, cars and groundbreaking concept vehicles.  While he studied in the fields of Business and Economics, he pursues a creative life with cinematography, photography and the historical record of classic cars and automobile collections. He also works as a journalist, test driver and participant in legendary moto-culture, for example:  2008 Wikipedia editor for more than 10 years; 2013 Project Manager of Concours d'Elegance (Greece); 2013 Lifetime member of Circuito Di Avezzano - Abruzzo Gran Tour (Italy); 2019 FIVA Jury/Member at Retro Parade Stara Zagora (Bulgaria); 2025 FIVA Jury/Member at Valletta Concours d' Elegance.

Vasileios Papaides at the track with something more modern...a Honda CBR 1100XX Super Blackbird. [Mike McCabe]
Vasileios also co-operates with foreign auction houses compiling 'biographies' for exceptionally rare classic car models. Aside from being freelance reporter for car museums and private collections, he takes part as a driver/co-driver in Greek and foreign Classic Regularity races. He works as a project manager on events and promotion video clips with classic cars themes. He has published several books about moto-culture and energetically advocates for the positive image of his community.  He also has a website of his various motoring activities here.

Franco Sbarro's UMA 3 concept vehicle. [Vasileios Papaidis]
“From a very young age of 8 to 10 years old, I was attracted to extraordinary vehicles,” Vasileios said. “I'm addicted to speed, the smell of gasoline, and the adrenaline that comes from danger. My very first motorcycle was a US-spec Honda V45 (700cc) Magna 1985, in the early 90s. It’s all passion for my 30 year pursuit in the automotive world as a journalist and later as a test driver, photographer and book author. As a Honda fan I have my vintage 1985 Honda V45 Magna; the best bike in the world (in my humble opinion), and a 1999 Honda CBR 1100 XX Super Blackbird. For fun I have raced my XX on the SRC Race Track in the city of Serres, Macedonia, Greece. I am not a highly skilled mechanic but I know enough to work on my bikes to ensure a good run. My favorite ride is hill climbs in the Greek Mountains and the SRC Racing Circuit- the SRC Racing Circuit is a great racetrack and the best in Balkans & Southern Europe. Motorcycle riders must be careful in Greece. Riding and driving can be hazardous.  Most car drivers do not respect or care for the motorcycle riders. There is no proper driving education in Greece, it should be included in schools as a course, so that young people can learn proper road behavior from a young age.”

Vasileios Papaidis in Franco Sbarro's feet-forward Monotrace or Sbarro Autonomous (Wheel) Motor Unit (2003) at Espera Sbarro France 2006. [Vasileios Papaidis]
Vasileios and his friends explore the intersection of materials, design and hand fabrication. He describes three concept vehicles developed by renowned Italian born, Swiss automotive designer and engineer Franco Sbarro he believes represent the ethos of this creative effort:

“The 2003 Sbarro Autonomous Motor Unit (UMA) was a radical concept created by Sbarro and OZ Wheels. It placed a 160-horsepower Yamaha YZF1000 engine, gearbox, cooling, and suspension entirely inside a massive 22-inch wheel. It was utilized in various vehicles, including a leaning recumbent "Monotrace". Many years ago Sbarro produced the Roue Orbitale: a very clever hub-less wheel and he subsequently sold the patents. At the 2003 Geneva Motor Show, Sbarro reinvented the wheel for a second time, producing a self-propelled version which is called the Roue Autonome Motrice. The concept is simple: wheel sizes have been increasing for the last few years so why not use the space within the rim to install an engine and liberate the space that was previously required by the engine compartment. Transforming an idea into its concrete form is difficult- Sbarro and wheel manufacturer OZ have worked together on this concept and produced this prototype of the Autonomous Motor Unit. To illustrate a number of possible applications of this invention, three vehicles were shown at Geneva with two, three and four wheels:

Franco Sbarro sitting in the UMA 2 concept trike. [Vasileios Papaidis]
“The two-wheeled prototype (UMA1) created the biggest impression with the visitors: Limited comfort with a riding position that doesn’t look very comfortable and a huge back wheel that cannot be very practical when cornering. But these aren’t faults because this is after all a concept vehicle and not something for daily use. Note the two little outrigger wheels that keep the machine upright when it comes to a standstill. Also the hub-center steering has only a single arm on the left side. There is a protective bubble over the rider and the exhaust comes out of the wheel! The feeling of speed sitting 15 cm above the ground is amazing as soon as one goes above 20 mph! The tricycle (UMA2) reminds me of General Motors concept cars from the fifties: looking like a rocket on wheels with wings and lights shaped like jet engines. This science-fiction machine is powered similarly to the motorcycle."

Vasileios Papaidis in the Sbarro Monotrace concept motorcycle. [Vasileios Papaidis]
“Finally, the four-wheeled machine (UMA3) really allows one to see the space-saving achieved with the Sbarro wheel. The passenger compartment is freed from the restriction of an engine bay: this extra space can be used for example for luggage. The impression of space is enhanced by the lack of doors on the prototype. Franco Sbarro’s Autonomous Motor Unit allows designers to conceive of the passenger compartment completely differently. This type of new car architecture has already begun in the large car manufacturers with the advent of drive-by-wire[2] and the freedom of construction this gives. Sbarro’s prototypes however uses mechanical controls. In the not too distant future we will see some new forms of vehicles. These three prototypes sow the seeds of that future.”

The UMA 2 trike and four-wheeled UMA 3. [Vasileios Papaidis]
Vasileios explores Sbarro’s futuristic concept car and motorcycle designs that might seem super-realistic but they are actually grounded in a process of sequential experimentation. One design stage leads to the next in a logical progression of observable, fact based outcomes. A creative method first explored by ancient Greeks.

Notes:

[1] (As cited by Matthew B. Crawford in Shop Class as Soulcraft, 2009): The ancient Greek philosopher Anaxagoras (c. 500–428 BC) famously asserted, “It is by having hands that man is the most intelligent of animals”. This core concept posits that human intellect is inextricably linked to our physical anatomy and our capacity to manipulate the environment. Anaxagoras was a pivotal Pre-Socratic philosopher who introduced the concept of Nous (Cosmic Mind) as the driving force of the universe. Within his philosophy, the human hand is not just an appendage, but the primary instrument that allows the rational mind to interact with, shape, and understand the physical world.

His profound observation about embodiment can be broken down into two main ideas:

  • Embodied Intelligence:Anaxagoras believed that thought and physical action are not separate. The ability to grasp, build, and craft things directly stimulates cognitive development. By manipulating tools and materials, we build an understanding of cause, effect, and form.
  • Homo Faber (Man the Maker):The quote highlights the idea that human dominance and intelligence are a direct result of our capacity to alter our environment. Hands give us the ability to transcend our biological limitations, turning thought into physical reality. (Wikipedia)

[2] A drive-by-wire car uses electrical signals rather than mechanical cables to control the throttle, brakes, or steering. If the system detects a fault, your dashboard will display one of two specific signs:

  • Electronic Power Control (EPC) Light:Common in Volkswagen and Audi vehicles. It appears as the letters EPC in yellow.
  • Electronic Throttle Control (ETC) Light:Common in Chrysler, Dodge, and Jeep vehicles. It appears as a lightning bolt icon placed between two backwards C-shapes.

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

 

by Michael McCabe

In the Shadow of the Acropolis

Collecting Motorcycles in the Shadow of the Acropolis

The Hellenic Motorcycle Museum of Athens, Greece

Motorcycle collections are often built as the result of one person’s dedication to preserving memory and time. People are drawn to specific brands and styles for aesthetic and technical reasons, but also intangible reasons that might be hard to explain. One bike leads to another and a logic between the machines develops. Having a large, safe, space to keep those bikes facilitates the process exponentially.

Master mechanic Athanasios Papoutis and the Owner of the Hellenic Motorcycle Museum Takis Mariolopoulous [Mike McCabe]
Panagiotis (Takis) Mariolopoulos lives with his wife in a contemporary, midsized five-story building in the Mets neighborhood of Athens, in the shadow of the historic Acropolis. The building has a central freight elevator and a contemporary spiral staircase that Takis designed and installed, connecting the floors of the building that are crammed with more than one-hundred impressive, historic motorcycles. The dizzying collection spans time and styles from vintage to track bikes and motocross two-stroke enduros manufactured in different countries. He's paid attention to grouping brands together, and each bike represents a memorable example of a particular class. The selections cut across mostly British and European marques: Brough Superior, Ariel, Matchless, Norton, Ducati, Moto Guzzi, Velocette, BMW, Douglas, Aspes, Ariel, Pesaro Motobi, Triumph, Moto Morini, Universal, Condor and Laverda.  There is also an Army green Harley Davidson WLA from around 1939-40 and a few Japanese track bikes from the ‘80s-90s. The air around these bikes is heavy with aging tire rubber and gasoline -every available square inch has a bike somehow parked in it. The whole situation is completely mind blowing.

A c.1916 Indian Power Plus in an unusual color with a Brough Superior SS80 with Matchless motor. [Mike McCabe]
Upstairs, standing on the building’s roof terrace, Takis gestures towards the impressive 5th century BC Acropolis where the Parthenon stands: there are connections between the Acropolis and all the motorcycles sitting downstairs. Ideas about democracy were first talked about in Athens; the remaking of a society to be more inclusive. Motorcycles share these same kinds of ideas in history. During the 20th century, the development of lower cost, two-wheeled vehicles insured more people could take part in the transportation revolution.

A poster for the Hellenic Motorcycle Museum in Athens. [Mike McCabe]
Greek civilization has existed in some way for 3,400 years, and Athens has been an established power base since 1400 BC. But today, looking across the Athens skyline, there are few if any large, modern buildings blocking the sun. Greece is not known for an industrial footprint and instead has a booming tourist industry, and exports agricultural products. During the 1950s-60s there were a few Greek companies like MEBEA that made small motorcycles and three-wheel utility vehicles; Mego that was a partner of MEBEA; Alta, that made bikes from 1962 to 1972; and Leftas that made bikes from 1982 to 2005. All these brands lost out to international competition and slipped into obscurity. Today, Greece's two-wheel industry focusses on distribution, retail, and servicing of foreign brands rather than domestic manufacturing. Major global brands have official distributors and subsidiaries in the country, like the Saracakis Group that represents Honda in Greece and Triumph Motorcycles Greece.

A selection of machines from the 1970s and 80s: Triumph, Ducatis, Motobi, Kawasaki - a real mix. [Mike McCabe]
Takis lives a calm day-to-day life overseeing his impressive Hellenic Motorcycle Museum collection. “I started collecting motorcycles around the 1980,” Takis said. “I was in my early 30s. My parents were Peloponnesian but I was born in Athens. First of all, when I was young I liked vintage cars, so I sold them. But when I sold the last one, I lost my identity. … I wanted something to do…  I found a 1951-52 Horex 400cc single cylinder (German motorcycle)… Good bikes but like English bikes, always a problem… I still have this Horex bike. Horex had different models, the Regina 350 in the 1950s, the Imperator 400 and 500 in the 1950s and the Columbus 500 that was released in 1988 as a tribute to the earlier models."

Two BMWs, from the 1950s and 70s, guard a larger group of German machines, including a Zundapp two-stroke. [Mike McCabe]
“I wasn’t so young when I started collecting bikes. I started when I came back from my studies in Rome- 1985. I studied residential design. It was a good experience. I love Italian people. I lived with them for more than six years. Now through the bikes I have kept contact with these people. I speak Italian of course. Back in the 1980s it was easy to find motorcycles… I would go to the petrol station and they would tell me, “Look, there’s another guy who wants to sell his bike.” I was making enough money from my architecture work, so I would buy bikes. I did not have skill to work on motorcycles and learned only from experience."

The view of the Acropolis from the Hellenic Motorcycle Museum. [Mike McCabe]
“I lived in this building so I kept the motorcycles here. After architecture school I made spiral stairs, and after 1990, I started my own company to make stairs. I was the only architect in this area, and had good business. So, I was making good business and I thought…more motorcycles. I thought at the time, motorcycles are like the ocean, they never stop. I renovated this building to fit the motorcycles. I designed the living space in the building to be as minimal as possible. My wife and I live in a small apartment on the third floor: everything else is motorcycles. Every time I buy one, I push everything over and make room for one more. I have more than one-hundred motorcycles here and I have more in other buildings. I lost count, maybe I have one-hundred and two (laughter)."

Condor is a Swiss manufacturer that's as old as Indian, dating back to 1901. [Mike McCabe]
“I have different bikes here, and it’s impossible to estimate the value of the collection. So there is a Brough Superior, Vincent, Douglas, HRD, Velocette - my favorite bike - and other English bikes. There are a lot of BMWs, some French bikes… Bikes from everywhere. A collection of spare parts. I cannot know everything I have. For this collection, we have more than just classic motorcycles, I believe in a museum we have to present all the history of motorcycles. We have many recent Ducati; I believe we must have modern bikes. All of these bikes are a part of history."

A 1960s Matchless G50 fronts a selection of 1980s sports bikes. [Mike McCabe]
“When I studied architecture in Italy, I saw many Italian motorcycles there. Now I have many Italian bikes in my collection. I don’t really have a feeling of completeness about this. Never. Every time I look at my collection, I feel something is missing. I look at magazines and I dream about the next bike. I am getting older. I know, it will not be possible to ride all my bikes so I dream about being able to ride all these motorcycles. My wife tells me sometimes she dreams of me riding the motorcycles up the spiral staircases inside the building. That would be nice.”

www.motorcyclerepublik.org

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

 

by Michael McCabe

Hellenic Motor Museum

The Hellenic Motor Museum Athens, Greece

Old cars have the mysterious ability to transport us back to a different time. The very shape of cars is a powerful device we use to romanticize a past we may have never experienced: the surfaces, shapes, colors and materials contextualize a deep historical narrative.

A shot slightly reminiscent of the Barber Museum, showing the interior levels of the Hellenic Motor Museum. [Mike McCabe]
Greece has no automobile industry, but today, right in the central business district of Athens, the Hellenic Motor Museum is an impressive, modern, three-level collection of over 300 cars that welcomes the public seven days a week. The 30,000sq/m museum first took shape in 1977, and was the inspiration of the Greek shipping magnate, Theodore N. Charagionis (1948-2023), who had been fascinated by cars since his childhood. He wanted to give something back to his community and housed his collection inside an accessible shopping mall rather than a potentially elitist museum setting. The museum’s mission statement includes: “Through specialized programs, interactive exhibits, and educational initiatives, the museum aims to raise awareness about the importance of safe driving practices and responsible road use."

The Hellenic Motor Museum looks mildly Guggenheim-ish with a swelling cylindrical volume. Motorcycles? Outside, ma'am. But still worth a visit! [Mike McCabe]
“By combining history, education, and innovation, the Hellenic Motor Museum serves as a cultural and educational hub, inspiring visitors to appreciate the legacy of the automobile while fostering a deeper understanding of road safety and mobility.”[1]

From left: 1934 Bugatti Typ 57 Ventoux (180hp/155kmh), 1934 Delage D8 15S Drophead Coupe (80hp/144kmh). [Mike McCabe]
Visitors walk easily through the impressive collection that is divided into different categories: Antique (up to 1904), Veteran (1905 to1919,) Vintage (1920-1930), Post Vintage (1931-1945), Classic (1946-1964), Post Classic (1965-1974), Modern (1975-1999) and Contemporary (2000+). There is explanatory wall text in Greek and English throughout the collection, and each car has a large, identifying floor plaque that describes the car’s model name, national origin, date of manufacture, horsepower, maximum speed and unique special features. The walls surrounding the cars are decorated with large black and white photos of cars in different real settings that lend an authentic ambience.

A cool interior space that encourages conversation and engagement. MG, Allard, Alfa Romeo, and Bentley. [Mike McCabe]
The impressive collection features models by manufacturers that no longer exist, like Avion Voisin, Adler, Allard, Borgward, Packard, Facel Vega, Delage, Delahaye, Iso, Dino, Lagonda, Stanguelini, Siata, OSCA, Jensen, Healey, Frazer-Nash and Offenhauser as well as models of legendary manufacturers still in production like Bugatti, Ferrari, Maserati, Aston Martin, Lotus, Bristol, Rolls Royce, Bentley, Abarth, Alfa Romeo, Lancia, Mercedes, Porsche, BMW, and Alpine. Ample room is provided between the cars so visitors can take time to read the text and inspect the cars without feeling cramped. The vibe is relaxed and informal and everyone is in a good mood. Quiet conversations between young and old from different visiting nationalities is encouraged. The cars are obviously cared for and respected by the museum staff who are friendly and more than willing to answer questions.

Neato 1939 BMW 328 Camo Coupe Mille Miglia racer (136hp/155kmh). [Mike McCabe]
If you find yourself in Athens and you have an interest in impressive cars of the past, Mr. Charagionis’ passionate collection is well worth a look. Location address: IOULIANOU 33-35 Athens, Greece. www.hellenicmotormusem.gr

Something new...ish. A 2000 Honda-BAR 002 Formula 1 racer: 3-liter, 810hp V10 engine. [Mike McCabe]
[1] Driving fatalities in Greece account for roughly 600 to 650 deaths annually. With approximately 50 to 60 deaths per million inhabitants, Greece ranks among the highest in the European Union for road fatalities—well above the EU average—due to factors like aggressive driving, speeding, and rural road conditions.

Something old: 1918 American La France roadster (105hp/110kmh). [Mike McCabe]
Key Statistics

  • Annual Fatalities:Total fatalities hover between 600 and 650 per year (e.g., ~621 reported recently).
  • Fatality Rate:About 50 to 60 deaths per million inhabitants, ranking in the top five worst in the EU.
  • Demographics:Male drivers account for roughly 66% of all road fatalities, with young males (15–24 years old) and the elderly (over 65) being the most vulnerable groups.

Gorgeous competition Lotus Elite in context of trophies and history. [Hellenic Motor Museum]
The multi-level interior space is excitingly laid out. [Hellenic Motor Museum]
Fun 1933 Austin 7 Super Sportsman racing special. [Hellenic Motor Museum]
 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

 

by Michael McCabe

Mooneyes: Shige Suganuma

Shige Suganuma, 1970s California Kustom Kulture and MOONEYES

The MOONEYES brand of speed equipment and accessories has always been identified with a California vibe of possibility and mobility. From its earliest days, West Coast culture typified a powerful and magnetic dreamscape of fantasy new beginnings [1] [as far back as 1510!- ed.]. The expanse of Los Angeles is framed by the dynamism of wheeled culture and enabled by the incredible network of freeways that acted as both connections and boundaries between people and their cultures [2].  During the 1950s and 60s, as the rising post-war youth demographic merged with cars and motorcycles, the values of Golden State moto culture encouraged broader concepts of freedom, autonomy and independent mobility that permanently changed the expectations of young and old people everywhere around the world. SoCal youth based cruiser culture[3] birthed the revolutionary concept, Kustom Kulture  and its key creative personalities: Dean Moon, the Barris brothers, Kenneth Howard (Von Dutch), Ed ‘Big Daddy’ Roth, Dean Jefferies and others, who merged krazy fabrication and paint ideas with lifestyle to form a new Hell on Wheels state of mind.[4]

A fiberglass sculpture of Ed 'Big Daddy' Roth in the Mooneyes Yokohama shop. [Mooneyes]
Ed Roth’s Rat Fink image emerged as a weirdo alter-ego mascot for a 1960s youth generation that needed to reinvent itself. Roth said, “Whenever I looked at that drawing (Rat Fink), I felt I was looking for the first time at reality, my reality. The world that my parents, teachers, and responsible type people all around me belonged to wasn’t my world. Why did I have to be like them, live like them? I didn’t. And Rat Fink helped me realize that.” [5]

Mooneyes Yokohama. [Mooneyes]
Today in Japan, Shige Suganuma and his Yokohama based MOONEYES has combined history, myth, nostalgia, style, velocity and sense of self into a new Kustom Kulture overdrive, but his story stretches back to 1977 when he first visited California. At twenty-one years old with little English language ability, Shige boarded a flight from Tokyo to Los Angeles for a three week trip in search of parts for his 1960 Ford T Bird. He traveled the LA freeways and was completely overwhelmed (like a kid in a candy shop) by the scale, historical depth and diversity of California moto-culture. He was literally surrounded with the shiny, iconic, preserved cars, vans and bikes of his dreams. Dizzy from the intensity of the situation, Shige pulled over more than once to catch his breath… He documented everything with his camera: he thought without the photos, friends back in Japan wouldn’t believe a word of it.

Shige Suganuma's photos of the freeway in LA from 1978. [Mooneyes]
Shige somehow found his way to a drag strip where he witnessed the drama of high octane fuel drag racing for the first time and met an enthusiast also from Japan, Chico Kodama (who would later become president of MOONEYES USA). A year later in 1978, Shige returned to California as an exchange student, until 1981.[6] History writes itself sometimes: a young, motivated Shige followed his gut into Dean Moon’s shop in Santa Fe Springs and became an inquisitive regular visitor. He learned Dean first opened his Moon equipment shop in 1950, and was a legend in SoCal drag racing culture for designing a twin-carb fuel block system that increased fuel delivery and horsepower. Moon’s marketing flair combined innovative ideas with a sense of the showman to sell his products. His funky barefoot-shaped MOON gas pedal and small 3.5 gallon MOON dragster gas tank (a front mounted system using natural rear-forced gravity to literally push the fuel into the twin carbs) and MOON Disc wheel covers (to reduce wind drag and shave off time) quickly became must-have hot rod accessories and sold in the thousands. Shige also learned the double eye MQQN logo started at a local drag race during the late 1950s: Dean’s car was numbered 00 but as a joke, somebody painted in eyes and the MOONEYES logo was born.[7]

Shige and Chico working on an engine in LA in 1981. [Mooneyes]
During the Korean War, Dean Moon was in the Air Force photography unit and became skilled with a camera. The walls of Dean’s Santa Fe Springs MOON Equipment shop were covered with his framed black and white photos of cars at local drag strips and also on the dry alkali lake bed at El Mirage and on the salt at Bonneville. El Mirage was only eighty miles from LA in the western Mojave, and a favorite destination for illegal street racers who congregated there instead of being arrested on LA streets. Speed trial culture at Bonneville had long been legendary since the 1930s. Moon's photos became a pictorial history lesson for Shige about how Dean’s ingenuity, speed products and personal flair influenced the early days of California hot rod culture, and reached mythological status. Dean took the enthusiastic Shige under his wing and guided him through the horsepower learning curve. Soon after, Shige became a fixture at the shop and good friends with both Dean and his wife Shirley.

Shige Suganuma at Mooneyes Yokohama in 2005. [Mooneyes]
Dean Moon passed away at 60 in 1987 and his company became inactive for several years. Shige and Chico purchased the company in 1992 from Shirley and they split the company with Chico maintaining the original MOON Equipment shop in Santa Fe Springs, California and Shige developed MOONEYES in Yokohama, Japan with the goal of preserving the historic brand’s hot rod legacy. Shige sensed there was an opportunity to nurture interest about exotic California hot rod culture and the MOON brand.

The romance of driving: Shige Suganuma on the LA freeway in 1978. [Mooneyes]
Mathematically, the physical force of horsepower can be reduced to the cold, simple equation: H = T x rpm/5252 (horsepower equals pound feet of torque multiplied by rpm and the constant 5252). Dean Moon, and now Shige and Chico, understood there was a deeper emotional preoccupation with going fast that was not explained by that equation, either in America or potentially Japan and the rest of the world. “This growth of interest in Kustom Kulture has been an interesting thing to watch,” Shige said. “Japan is an interesting place in terms of how it processes cultural information from the outside world. In Japan, there has been this unique relationship with America among many young people. The mythos of space and freedom and driving that is seen as an act of transformation has always fascinated me. Japan is a small place and the culture has strictness to it. Young people in Japan see America as this place that is big, with big, powerful, cool-looking cars; long highways that go across huge expanses of space like Route 66 through the desert. The whole thing is a dream to Japanese young people.”[8]

35 years and counting, the Mooneyes Yokohama Hot Rod and Custom show. [Mooneyes]
Within a few years Shige developed a calendar of well-attended hot rod, motorcycle and car accessory events, and his annual Yokohama Hot Rod Custom Show (the 35 year anniversary was in 2025) that served to educate and empower a curious Japan. The process has come full circle for Shige: the international moto-subculture is intrigued by the same California mystique he explored and photographed as kid during the 1970s. MOONEYES Yokohama now boasts of a deep collection of iconic cars and motorcycles that express the relationship between humans and their kustom life. “In Japan in places like Tokyo and Osaka, many middle-aged men are fascinated with the 1950s in America. They have felt a deeper connection to this period. During the 1960s it was difficult for younger Japanese people to understand what was going on in the USA, but they wanted to know. So whatever information got through had an exotic strangeness to it. Younger guys today in Japan might have a different association with their feelings about America. It’s hard to tell. Many of these tastes can be very personal and private. I first went to the US in 1977. When I was twenty-one I had a 1960 T-Bird. I needed parts and I had seen a book with some information about parts between Chicago and California.

The Mooneyes crew in 2005 with a pair of hot rod roadsters. [Mooneyes]
“I got my driver’s license when I was eighteen. My first car was a VW van. I wanted to make a surfer van. During the 1970s surfing culture was very popular in Japan. People thought buying the van was odd; a van was for work. Then in 1976 I bought the T-Bird and in 1977 I bought a 1971 Plymouth Satellite. In 1978 I bought a 1968 El Camino. It was not a popular thing for older people to do, but younger people all wanted one. 1978 was an important year for the exchange of automotive culture,” Shige continued. “This is when car sensibility was internationalized… European carmakers impressed and entered the American car market. The economies of the European countries and Asian countries had been rebuilding during the 1950s and 60s. Economic power was limited to other areas. The USA was really powerful in the Post-War climate. As an example, my parents were limited by the Post-War situation in Japan. Then in the 1970s things changed. During the 1950s there was no TV in Japan, no refrigerators. Japan existed in a different realm. America had come through the Post-War explosion with industrial strength and a powerful culture during the 50s and 60s that accompanied this expansion. Then there were the gas shortages of the 1970s… This was a turning point for car quality in Japan and Europe. America car culture changed forever.”

The MOON digger in the cherry blossoms. [Mooneyes]
“Thirty-nine years ago in 1987, the Tokyo Street Car Nationals was the first event in Japan for American style cars,” Shige explained. “80% of the two-hundred cars were Kustoms. At this first show there was no information about what to do to a car… Many owners managed somehow to find magazines that had some ideas about what could be done to a car. I was very surprised to see so many people come to the show. For that first show, cars came from as far away as Osaka to the south and Aomori to the north. This was a big thing. This year we had 750 cars and 100 swap meet booths. The show has grown to include mini-trucks, VWs, Low Riders, Street Rods, Kustoms, Muscle Cars, Pinstripers, and fashion accessories. I felt it was important to enjoy this Kustom Kar Kulture. I wanted to do it out of a sense of personal interest and ambition. I had the show as a way to develop an interest and I was impressed to see the enthusiasm. In 1987 car culture was about cars and people working on their cars, pinstriping, and clothes. It was a pioneer show about car culture and I think it influenced people. Things have changed so much… During this period I had a 1969 Camaro that I wanted to sell. I painted my phone number on the rear quarter window with the words For Sale… Some Japanese newspaper took a photo of my car with the painted sign and published it. People saw this and then all these people painted their rear quarter windows with For Sale signs and their phone numbers. This became a fad… Japan is a funny place.”

2007 Harley-Davidson Sportster based MOONSTER custom. [Mooneyes]
2026 will mark the 76th year of operation for Moon Equipment. Shige and Chico are committed to the legacy of Dean Moon and his vision of car culture. They have worked to internationalize the brand as an inspiration for car and motorcycles enthusiasts world-wide. The Mooneyes logo and signature yellow color have become synonymous with a ‘Going Fast’ lifestyle, and Moon speed products continue to be legendary representations of the art, style and culture of velocity.

'Kalifornia Lime', based on a 1951 Triumph TR5, built by MOON. [Mooneyes]
[1] In Los Angeles: The Architecture of Four Ecologies (1971), Reyner Banham redefined the city not by traditional monuments, but by four interactive, environmental, and social systems: Surfurbia (beaches), the Foothills, the Plains of Id (flatlands), and Autopia (freeways)

Autopia-The Freeway Ecology- Banham defines the freeway system as a "complete way of life" and a "single comprehensible place" that represents a "coherent state of mind," ranking it alongside the great urban achievements of history.

Architectural historian and cultural commentator Peter Reyner Banham called the LA freeway ecosystem "a coherent state of mind." [Wiki]
[2] Mike Davis- City of Quartz, 1990. ‘Los Angeles, it should be understood, is not a mere city. On the contrary, it is, and has been since 1888, a commodity; something to be advertised and sold to the people of the United States like automobiles, cigarettes and mouth wash.

Rick McCoskey from his remarkable 'Van Nuys Blvd 1972' photo series. [Rick McCoskey]
[3] Rick McCoskey- Van Nuys BLVD 1972. ‘Wednesday night was Cruise Night in the San Fernando Valley. The Valley is a part of greater Los Angeles, and Van Nuys Boulevard, in The Valley, was the place to cruise. The boulevard teemed with kids and cars from all over Southern California on Friday and Saturday nights as well, but Wednesday night was the big night for cruising. The boulevard ran straight and true from its southern beginning at Ventura Boulevard in Sherman Oaks all the way north through Panorama City and beyond. If you were young during the 1950s, the 1960s, or the 1970s, and you owned or had access to a car, or a motorcycle, Van Nuys Boulevard was the place to be in the evenings. It was a terrific place to both see and be seen in and with your ride.’

[4]  Von Dutch famously painted over the Barris Brothers shop sign, switching the Custom ‘C’ to a Kustom ‘K’ and this youth inspired renaming prank came to symbolize the new ethos of a car and motorcycle customizing generation.

Ed 'Big Daddy' Roth with one of his choppers in the mid-1960s, before he turned to building trikes. [Roth Family Archive]
[5] Ed ‘Big Daddy’ Roth- Confessions of a Rat Fink: The Life and Times of Ed ‘Big Daddy’ Roth, 1980

[6] From an outstanding article, “Seventy-Seven California” by Souichi Oikawa (Fly Wheels Magazine) in MOONEYES International Magazine, Vol. 22, Summer 2020.

[7] For more information a thorough article about Dean Moon’s history by Daniels Strohl in Muscle Machines (2009). Reprinted in Hemmings. Also a good article about Moon by Gary Medley in FUEL CURVE.

[8] Shige Suganuma, Kustom Japan, (Hardy Marks 2008).

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

 

by Michael McCabe

‘Geno’ Zandomenego’s 1950 Ford Shoebox

Eugene 'Geno' Zandomengo’s 1950 Ford is an ongoing Kustom Culture work in progress.  The project commenced in Japan in the 1960s, and continues to evolve today in Staten Island, New York. The pre-kustom, original styling line of the 1949 Ford Club Coup Tudor (two door) and Fordor (four door) models were the result of a major post-WWII head-turner styling re-think that changed automotive history, first at Ford (released in June 1948), followed six months later at Chevy, and nine months later at Chrysler. Independent front wheel fenders and side running boards (carryover features from the first cars) were totally eliminated and refashioned into a ‘modernist’ slab-sided, ‘pontoon’ look that was soon dubbed the Shoebox.[1]

The 1949 Ford Club Coupe, the original Shoebox design with slab sides and no separate fenders. [The Vintagent Archive]
Ford’s post-war design revolution was enigmatic of things to come in America. The ending of WWII lifted a huge weight from the cultural shoulders of people, and their day to day life rebooted away from a preoccupation with scarcity and the rationing of daily commodities, towards the excitement of consumption. As never before, the American automobile industry and the newly redesigned cars came to symbolize dramatic social change. People could physically probe the metal and fabric of the different brands and models, actually sit inside and learn how to drive them.  The 1950s experienced an unprecedented 3.6% increase of drivers- by 1950, 57% of the driving age population had a driver’s license.[2]

The Ford Shoebox line with executive George Walker. Note the Edsel behind Walker: a catastrophic design named for Henry Ford's sone. [Ford Motor Co.]
Post-war economic prosperity, suburbanization, increased production of automobiles and infrastructure development combined to create a new sense of the American self. Owning a car embodied freedom, economic success and upward mobility. The newly designed 1949 Ford line - that included the Club Coup models - were a huge success, with more than one-million cars produced in the first months of 1949, and the company secured significant market share.[3] The designs of Ford cars eclipsed competing brands and came to represent the future texture of automobile culture. Ford’s 1950 advertising slogan summarized the zeitgeist of the brand── ‘The New Standard of the American Road’. In 1949, the U.S. automotive industry's total civilian output was approximately 6 million vehicles, which included around 5 million passenger cars and 1 million other vehicles. This marked a significant breakthrough as postwar civilian production finally surpassed pre-war levels for the first time since 1941.[4]

Benson, William, and Henry Ford Jr were the grandsons of Henry Ford and the sons of Edsel Ford, seen here on the cover of TIME magazine. [TIME magazine archives]
Car historians cite the 1949-1951 Ford Club Coup as the game-changer model that resurrected Ford during the post-war period. Civilian automobile manufacturing restarted after the war in 1946 but the big three (Ford, General Motors and Chrysler) depended on designs developed pre-war as late as the 1948 model year, until Ford shook things up in 1949 with its completely redesigned Club Coupe. The Ford design team was headed by the legendary heads of design, George Walker and Richard Caleal, who is credited for the actual design of the 1949-50 Club Coupe.[5] The car featured a new forward placement of the engine that created a roomier passenger cabin. The original torque shaft was replaced by a new drive shaft that transferred power more efficiently and the car’s handling and noise issues were resolved. The new Club Coupe offered two engine choices; a 226ci straight six with 95 horsepower and 180 lb-ft of torque with a top speed of 79mph or a bigger, 239ci flathead V8 with 100 horsepower and 181 lb-ft of torque with a top speed of 85mph. Transmission choices included either a three-speed manual or a four-speed manual with overdrive that delivered zero to sixty mph in 17 seconds.[6] The new body shape of the coupe was the head turner feature for the average consumer. Nothing like it had ever existed…. Where were the fenders? The car’s provocative new shape looked like a Shoebox and the nickname stuck.

Geno Zandomenego in the early 1960s as a child, with his father's Ford roadster hotrod. [Geno Zandomenego]
As cars worked their way into the American consciousness, their shapes, colors and brand associations served as concept maps for the general public. Stylish magazines and the revolutionary introduction of television advertising campaigns for car brands and individual models became educational tools for people as they made sense of the rapidly changing world around them. Purchasing a car reflected a complicated mix of eventualities. Next to a house, a car was the most expensive thing an American could buy, and advertising campaigns guided naïve car consumers to develop world views associated with different brands and models. Owning a car was incredible for the average American in 1950, and Ford’s Shoebox coupe reflected the depth of the experience.[7]

Geno as an infant, beside a copy of Hot Road magazine! His path was set before he was out of diapers... [Geno Zandomenego]
Early California Kustom Culture advocates - the Barris brothers, Ed Roth, Von Dutch and Dean Jeffries - soon realized there were consequential downsides to the industry standards of choice:  a new mass-produced monopoly on creative vision and creative life. In a revolutionary moment, early Kustom Culture builders started to deconstruct, saw up, reshape and recolor the existing forms of four-wheel and two-wheel moto culture and re-personalize them to a different set of private, non-industry aesthetic standards.

Geno's father's auto body shop, with a Raymond Loewy-designed Studebaker Hawk. [Geno Zandomenego]
Eugene 'Geno' Zandomengo reflects about the unique historical process of his car:

“1950, my car is 1950. That was the beginning of the slab-sided look. The Shoebox look. I found the car on eBay. I sanded seven layers of paint off of it. The car was sectioned... The car was cut in half through the frame, through the body… through the doors, the fenders, the trunk, they cut the car six inches to shorten it down... It was always a Club Coupe that has the small side back window. There’s a couple different models... One has a bigger back window, one is a four door. Mine is a Club Coupe. When they sectioned the car, they didn’t cut anything from the top of the door up. They sectioned it from the middle of the door down… The fenders, the wheel wells… This was done in 1960 in Japan…

Geno's shoebox customized roadster in primer, as purchased on eBay, looking more European than American. [‘Geno’ Zandomenego]
“The guy who did the car was a serviceman… He took the car to Japan and sectioned it in Japan. He did all the welding with coat hangers as brazng rods… that’s how they did the welding in those days. And the body work was done with lead… This was before Bondo. When I sanded it down, I had to see what was going on… what color I was going to paint it. When I saw the work, all the welds, where the lead was… I left it like that and I brought it to a couple of shows and people went wild. They saw it and were like Wow! So I said, you know what… I am leaving it like this. And I clear coated it. It shows all the welding, where the cuts were made to shorten it down and everything. The fins were hand-made.  The fins look actually came after this car was manufactured. It has ’55 Chevy headlights and rims, it has a T-Bird hood scoop, the grill… I could never figure out what he did with the grill. He pancaked the hood, he flattened the hood, he welded the whole front down, he put 1949 Plymouth bumpers on the front and back, hand-made fins, and he put 1950 Buick tail lights.

Paintless and irresistible, revealing all the cutting, hammering, welding, and lead filling done in the 1960s. [‘Geno’ Zandomenego]
“I found it on eBay. The car was brought back to the United States. It was brought back to Wisconsin. I always loved kustom cars and when I saw it on eBay, I was like Wow! Look at this car! I said, Let me try to bid on it. I ended up winning it. It’s actually featured in Mad Fabricators: they make DVDs. They had the whole story of this car in Mad Fabricators Volume 2. You’ll see the whole story of the car. Pictures of the car when it was red, when it was yellow, when it was black."

Fins before fins! The Ford Club Coupe never had fins... [‘Geno’ Zandomenego]
“It took me a while to sand all that paint off. It was a simple gray primer. I was like, I am going to sand this down…. But as I sanded it down I saw a layer of black, a layer of yellow, a layer of red, a layer of like a greenish. Wow! I think it came down to like seven different colors. It had a 1954 bench seat. I took it out and I had 1954 T-Bird bucket seats. And I put the ‘54 T-Bird bucket seats in it. They were a little too high because the car was sectioned. I was in a junk yard in Pennsylvania and saw a 1960 Thunderbird with bucket seats so I bought those seats and put those seats in.

Steering wheel is classic and gigantic 1940s style. [‘Geno’ Zandomenego]
“Whoever customized the car took out the Ford engine and put a Buick 401 Nail Head engine in the car. It’s a high performance, high torque engine. I pulled it out and rebuilt the engine. I put a different transmission in the car. I haven’t had the car on the road in two or three years… the master cylinder went on it. I had no brakes… the master cylinder is under the driver’s side floorboard. I have to get under the car to do it."

The sectioned and lowered car has a European look to it. The hood scoop is from a Ford Thunderbird. [‘Geno’ Zandomenego]
“I have been into the car thing ever since I was a kid. My father was a car guy. He had a body shop. He had a roadster with pin striping on the dash board. My Dad got into the kustomizing of cars probably in the early 1950s. This was in Brooklyn, Gravesend."

What's in there, a Ferrari? [‘Geno’ Zandomenego]
“It’s funny… When I got the car and then sanded all the layers of paint off the body, my wife was, ‘When you gonna paint this car?’ Then we brought the car to a show at Lead East, and we had the car parked and as soon as we parked and got out of the car, it was like that movie, ‘Night of the Living Dead’, people started walking over to look at the car… Ya know? I said, Wow, I can’t believe they did that… You know what? I’m leaving the car bare metal. I am glad I did this. It shows the work that went into the car. The work is amazing.”

Geno with his clear-coated Ford custom. [‘Geno’ Zandomenego]
Eugene has loved cars since his youth. The day-to-day environment of his father’s body shop educated him about appreciating the process and diversity of car history. Cars are big objects that don’t disappear easily. Old cars are powerful… They become mnemonic devices that assist people to reconnect with abstract concepts and feelings that are not easily expressed. Kustom Culture creativity rewired the connections between stock history and a new personal history. After spending countless hours sanding away the multi layers of paint, Eugene then intentionally clear coated his Ford Club Coupe Shoebox in an effort to expose the historical process.

From an older generation of custom hotrods: Geno's father with his Ford roadster. [‘Geno’ Zandomenego]
[1] Innovative cultural expression is usually spring loaded, disruptive and mysterious. In what seems like an unpredictable moment, status quo ideas and methods, lose their historical currency and are pushed aside.

[2] Federal Highway Administration.

[3] Ford produced 154,424 Club Coupes in 1949, with 4,170 of those featuring the 6-cylinder engine, making it a popular choice in the record-setting year where Ford sold over 1.1 million vehicles total that revitalized the company.

[4] U.S Department of Commerce.

[5] Women were integrated into the Ford design team- Helen Vincent and Sally Eaton were first hired in 1958 to work in the Advanced Styling Studio and focus on interior trim and color.

[6] From Blog/Cool Rides Online, Gold Eagle.

[7] When asked, Americans who were born in the 1920s and 30s will describe a world after WWII that was speeding up and had a new centrifugal force.

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

 

by Michael McCabe

Ray Ray- Freedom on Two Wheels

The American persona has always been framed by the impulse to keep moving. During the early 20th Century, personal transportation like cars and motorcycles became affordable and were integrated easily into a new recreational lifestyle.[1] The American Motorcyclist Association (AMA), established in 1924, was created in an effort to promote wholesome, mainstream values of exploring the expanse of the American landscape on two wheels and having fun. The AMA was the 'establishment' of American motorcycling.  But during the 1950s a ballooning youth demographic of teenagers was motivated by new subcultures: adrenaline-enriched options, Rock and Roll and dangerous Hot Rod and motorcycle cultures that rewrote what ‘fun’ meant.

Ray Ray in his favorite Harley-Davidson cap with Santa - you know what he wished for! [Ray Ray archives]
In places like Southern California, the post-WWII industrial economy was expanding rapidly and family income surged. Teenagers had access to their parent’s unprecedented financial resources, which translated into purchasing motorcycles and used cars. In 1950 the U.S. median family income was $3,300 but this skyrocketed to $5620 by 1960. It was no coincidence that hot rodding and motorcycles took root in California. The state was a major hub for high-paying defense industry and manufacturing jobs.

A classic 1940s hot rod moment, a wild freedom before the Man clamped down on everything. [Photographer Unknown]
Some say the iconic image of a young, masculine, fiercely independent and ‘testy’ motorcycle rider is related to the late 19th century closure of the free-range West, and the end of the American cowboy era.  One cultural form of independent ramblers took up the mantle of the older version, with a new visceral intensity. The United States has been a nation for the young since its earliest days[2] but during the post WWII Baby Boom years (1946-1964) the youth demographic in places like California expanded and collided with novel cultural options.[3] Images of the Hollister Riot (1947) were horrifying for the over-40 crowd, but intriguing for younger people.  The media imagery became motivating social cues, and morphed into Brando's character Johnny in ‘The Wild One’ (1953)[4] and later youth market drive-in movie features: The Wild Angels (1967), The Glory Stompers (1967), The Born Losers (1967) and finally, Dennis Hopper’s epic Easy Rider (1969)[5]. These films glamorized two-wheeled freedom, counter culturalism, customized velocity and danger. Across the globe, similar post-WWII youth-based rebellious motorcycle movements emerged in the UK (Ton-Up), Europe, and Japan (Bosozo-ku)[6] during the 1950s that each tweaked rebel identity to suit their national character.

Locked up: 'Hard Times / Saved My Life.' Wisdom gained through losing one's freedom: a hard lesson. [Ray Ray Archives]
The American Motorcycle Association denies ever making the legendary post-Hollister "1%" statement, but whatever its source, the phrase struck a deep, complicated Outlaw nerve.  The 1% banner gave legs to a nascent and evolving impulse for young motorcyclist and hot rodders, who challenged the status quo and pushed back hard against cultural expectations, in favor of doing their own thing. In post–World War II California and elsewhere, motorcycle ‘Outlaw Clubs’ coalesced around the 1% credo and spread the outlaw mystique. California motorcycle clubs like the Market Street Commandos, the Boozefighters, the Galloping Gooses, the Pissed Off Bastards of Bloomington and a few others caught the eye of the media, as well as state and federal law enforcement.  It also intrgued a lot of American youngsters who were attracted to the old outlaw archetype in a new form, many of whom decided the path of ‘wrong-doing’ made more sense to those left behind by increasing technological innovation and the need for a good education for economic advancement.

Ray Ray in training as a boxer, for sport and not professional advancement, as he is clearly middle aged...and still tough as nails. [Ray Ray Archives]
Ray Ray was born in 1948 at the close of WWII into a Brooklyn, New York that was no-fucking-joke working class rough and deeply Hubert Selby[7]. There were for-real guys on his block whom he idolized, who set the tone, riding big Harley Davidsons and controlling the streets with uncompromising, brutal panache. At seven or eight years old he rode around his neighborhood on the back of his idols' fancy bikes, and the experience stuck with him indelibly. During his early adulthood, he made some bad moves and got locked up for serious time ‘Upstate’. His lengthy incarceration prodded him to value his personal independence and freedom, so even when asked, he never joined a 1% biker club. Ray Ray relates, “I was Upstate from like ‘71 to ‘80. That’s a long time, but that saved my life, bro. I was so fucked up in the street that I was going to end up the way all my friends did. They didn’t die of old age. I lived two lives. I got a good life now. I’m just chillin’."

1961...growing up in a rough part of town, but graduating high school. [Ray Ray Archives]
“When I was a kid I loved cars. My father used to take me to the New York Coliseum. I must have been eight or nine years old. Every year he bought me the book that showed you every car that was in there. The weight, the wheel base; you know, all that bullshit. I loved cars. That was my first love. I was six years old; I had a motorcycle jacket on; a motorcycle hat. You know… what kid don’t like motorcycles? This is ‘56 maybe. I grew up on a block where there were bookies who ran a candy store. Me and my friends used to rob the candy store. At night we’d take twenty dollars’ worth of quarters and go shoot pool in the pool room. But the guy who owned it and his friends are what I call knock around guys. They did crazy shit. They both had big fucking Harleys. I rode on ‘em with the guys. I’d jump on the back of the big fucking seats. They’d say, “Come on Ray!” I loved it man. I loved just the smell of it.

The whitest of white walls...gangster style in 1982, with a '77 Buick Regal coupe. [Ray Ray Archives]
“I consider myself a street guy but I was a good guy. When I graduated high school I worked construction. Good money. I used to fix up my cars. Oh man, I had some bad cars. I had a ‘69 Thunderbird; I had a ‘77 Buick Regal. But see, I’d get a regular car and I’d make somethin’ look really fuckin’ nice. On my Regal I put gangster white walls; the real ones. This is over thirty years ago. You didn’t see fuckin’ cars with gangster white walls. I used to go out there every day with a fucking Brillo pad… They were the whitest white walls you’d ever want to see. I’m tellin’ ya. People used to, “Wow! Wow! Wow!” The car was black, it had a T top. You know, you take the glass off. It was a beautiful fucking car."

Ray Ray circa 1988 on the Brooklyn side of the Brooklyn Bridge. [Ray Ray Archives]
“I didn’t do it but I grew up watchin’ street racing. I was too young. But on First Avenue and thirty Seventh Street every night they had fucking races. Guys used to come with their race cars on fucking flat beds. They’d race for registrations. The firemen used to come hose the street down so they wouldn’t race. As soon as it was dry… Wow! What a fuckin’ race track that was. I was like twelve years old but I loved that. That got me into the cars too. They were racing stock cars. Then you’d get cars that were souped-up. They’d race for each other’s cars; for registrations. Put up your registration. Whoever loses, loses their car. That’s some serious shit. If you lose, you give up your car. You back out of it you wind up gettin fuckin’ killed. There’d be more than a hundred people watchin’. You couldn’t get down the fuckin’ avenue. It was dangerous too. Whenever you’d fly down the street there’s always a hump. A guy got killed. The Corvette came off the ground, and when he was up he had turned the wheel, when he came down the car went ba-boom, knocked over the Johnny pumps. The motor came out of the car; the guy was dead. Then they really started breakin’ balls down there. I think that ended it; after that guy got killed."

Ray Ray with the Harley-Davidson he kept for years, and continually modified. [Mike McCabe]
“First bike I bought I was eighteen. And I’ve had a bike ever since. It was a ‘69 Sportster. All stock. It was 1000cc’s. It was an Iron Head. All engraved. I did a ton of work on it. I’m not a mechanic, I’m lucky if I can change a spark plug. But I am into detail. I like to do spike nuts instead of acorns… The way I hook things up, people like it. It’s fucking dangerous riding around Manhattan. Especially the cabbies. All they want to do is race around and get the next fare on the corner. The pot holes, the traffic, the cops. You need to look around at ten different things before you pull out. It’s a challenge. I love it."

A later shot of Ray Ray at night under the Brooklyn Bridge. [Ray Ray Archives]
“I changed a lot of things on the bike I got now. I had a three inch wide, 21 inches high tire on the front. Then I seen a bike like mine with a low sixteen inch tire and wide like the motorcycle cops. I liked the look of that. It’s a fat, heavier look. I changed it. I am always thinking about my bike. If I had a couple extra thousand dollars I’d have the bike stripped down. Whatever ain’t new on there, I’d make it new. I’d have a new wiring harness put on it. My bike is thirty-three years old. I got an electrical short now. I want to put my blue lights on and there’s a fucking short. It bothers me. Even if it’s the fucking day time and you don’t need the lights, it bothers me that the blue lights don’t work. I like my shit to be 100%. I get upset. Most definitely, besides my family that’s the only thing I think about and worry about. If I had a thousand dollars in my pocket and it was going to cost me one-thousand and two dollars to fix my bike and I was hungry; I’d borrow the two dollars and go hungry. It’s a passion. I’m fucking obsessed. When I ride around the city, my head's that big.  I’ve been riding forty fucking years. A lot of people know me."

Ray Ray's garage. [Mike McCabe]
“My bike was a twelve-hundred when it was built. Now it’s got a ninety-six inch stroker motor. You know the whole nine yards; high performance spark plugs, a new coil. You know, all the good shit. I’ve changed the paint job in the last twenty years maybe five times. Changed my tires, changed my rims. I’ve changed everything. You get tired of the old stuff. You want to be creative. I can change my bike every day. Whether it’s like changing’ the position of a skull that I put on the bike. Puttin’ another skull somewhere else where there was none. I just like being creative and doing my own shit like everyone else.  Everybody is the same way. No matter what bike you’re lookin’ at or who you’re talking to, everybody wants to do their own thing. And they think it’s cool and so do I."

A genuine character who never needed a club for backup. [Mike McCabe]
“Bikes can change you. I had a friend; he’s dead now. He was a super technical guy. He had a high tech job at a water plant. Nicest guy you could ever meet but when he was riding you could never see his teeth. No smiles. It was strange. On the bike he was Mr. Mad Man. Just a mean fuckin’ look. Off the bike he’d be smilin’. I ride around; I don’t smile at people because you gotta give these mother fuckers a mean look. They are two inches away from you. I look like, what the fuck you wanna go up my fuckin’ ass? One day goin’ along Fort Hamilton Parkway, the mother fucker behind me with his horn. I see the red light a couple hundred feet ahead so I go even slower. I get to the light; the bitch comes along side of me. It turned out to be a woman. So I’m lookin’. I say, “Open your window.” She cracks her window and I say, “If you were a guy, my bike would be off and I’d break your mother fucking face.” I said, “You got balls!” Know what she did? She closed her window and pulled away like I didn’t even say nothin’ to her. I’m lookin’ to go to blows with this guy and it’s an old lady. She looked at me and closed the window like nothing happened. I thought, you got balls lady. She blew my mind… I need a girl-friend like that."

Ray Ray's workbench. He wasn't a mechanic, but loved to modify his motorcycle. [Mike McCabe]
“I like goin’ fast. I don’t do it all the time but I do it when I know I’m on a familiar road. Where I don’t have to worry about holes. I don’t want to hit a hole doin’ ninety. I’ll pick a particular part of the parkway where I can go and get my shit off. Other than that I don’t mind just blastin’ around the streets."

“When somethin’ happens to my bike, it’s my attitude. You can’t talk to me. My wife don’t even want to look at me. I’m a different guy. When my bike is down, I’m down. Don’t even say hello to me. Until my bike is fixed then I’m in a better mood. It could be the slightest thing but I won’t be able to sleep. I take it to that extreme. Look, I got a heart condition. If I don’t take my medication for my heart I say, I’ll take it tomorrow.” What’s the big deal? But if something’s wrong with my bike I won’t be able to sleep. I’ll be calling people up tryin’ to fix it myself. I’m telling ya. It’s not just a passion but it’s somethin’ more. Somethin’ a lot more than passion. You have to find a new word for the feelings I get outta my bike. It ain’t even human. Can you dig that? I don’t have another feeling that can compare to that. My bike is a completely different thing. To me it’s the greatest feeling in the world. Can you understand that bro? It’s down to the point exactly where I want to get at. In my own mind I am talking to a higher authority when I’m on my bike. Definitely. Whether other people see it that way or not, I really don’t care. That feeling of passion but it’s a bigger word that I can’t explain. That’s the way it is.”

Ray Ray towards the end of his life, when Mike McCabe interviewed him. [Mike McCabe]
[1] See ‘A Girl and Her Scout- Josephine Vandell'. The Vintagent, McCabe, April 1, 2024.

[2]  The median age of the American population in 1776 was very young, likely in the late teens or early twenties, though precise historical data is scarce. The population was characterized by high birth rates and low life expectancy (around 35 years), meaning a large portion of the population was under the age of 18. While the average life expectancy was low, the average age of the signers of the Declaration of Independence was around 44, and a number of them were 35 or younger.

[3] The U.S. national median age in 1950 was about 30.2 years, but California's median age was slightly lower, likely in the high 20s, and the national median age declined to 29.5 years by 1960.

[4] The wardrobe selections of both Bando’s black leather jacket and Marvin’s striped Breton sweater went a long way to produce ‘Biker’ cultural stereotype identities.

[5] The motorcycles used in Easy Rider - the Captain America and the Billy bike - were designed by Cliff Vaughs and built by Ben Hardy. Both were African American and at the time of the film’s release, were not properly credited and unfairly under emphasized.

[6] See New York City Bosozoku, The Vintagent, August 18, 2025, McCabe.

[7] Hubert Selby is known for his epic book, Last Exit to Brooklyn (1964) that graphically portrays life in the working class borough.

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

 

by Michael McCabe

Brooklyn Invitational: John Copeland Remembered

Those who attended the first Brooklyn Invitational Custom Motorcycle Show in September 2009 and the following September shows until 2018, witnessed motorcycle history.  In late 2008 early 2009, John Copeland. Keino Sasaki (Keino Cycles) and Jeffrey Schad brainstormed the idea to contact a dozen or so Tri-State motorcycle builder friends[1] and organize a one day only custom motorcycle show. The rough, dark and somewhat menacing post-industrial East Williamsburg skateboard venue, Autumn Bowl was the perfect spot to pull it off. They reached out to friends Paul Cox, AJ Herold, Andy Camay, tattooer Diego Mannino and others for help.  Evening meetings were held at the Johnson Avenue, Williamsburg, Brooklyn garage, where Copeland and Schad wrenched on their bikes to discuss what would be involved── they agreed, the event should be a small, somewhat private, invitational motorcycle show as a free of charge, gallery type setting. They all knew this had not really been done before on the East Coast.

2012: John Copeland, Keino Sasaki, and Jeffrey Shad meeting before that year's Brooklyn Invitational. [Mike McCabe]
Over the summer of ’09 everything came together: The date for the show was set for September 19 between the hours of 12 noon to 12 midnight at the Autumn Bowl. There were no windows at the Bowl so it was dark and disorienting inside the huge space: Just simple vault-like rooms, red brick walls and broom swept concrete floors. Bikes built by Lock Baker, Andy Camay, Rich Phillips, Bill Dodge, Paul Cox, Walt Siegl, Kevin Oranger, John and Keino and a few others were illuminated by low-tech overhead utility lights. The machines sat quietly in the near darkness and begged attention. Copeland, Keino and Schad created a free show with a gritty gallery ambiance that unfolded in a series of quiet rooms where the motorcycles were presented simply on the floor. Nothing fancy, just a dozen inspiring motorcycles that spoke for themselves. People were invited to walk among the machines and quietly share their opinions and ideas. It was fucking beautiful.

The 2009 Brooklyn Invitational, with Rich Phillips' custom. Note the spare lighting in the totally dark space. [Mike McCabe]
“This show started as mostly choppers and mostly New York and the surrounding area,” Copeland reflected about the show in 2017. “As the years went on we tried to widen the scope. It was custom motorcycles and not just a custom choppers show. There’s all kinds of different things you can do in making a bike yours— some people build choppers, some people build café racers… So that’s like the biggest thing we have done over the years. We’ve tried to widen the scope and the content of the show so it’s not just one narrow take on the thing."

Brooklyn Invitation crew member AJ Herold and his pickup. [Mike McCabe]
“There’s a world of custom Harley choppers and you get to know everyone, it’s a small little world. Even though there’s people all over the world doing it, you get to know everyone. We never wanted the show to feel like the same group of people every year."

Max Schaaf (4Q Engineering) rode his custom Shovelhead from Oakland for the 2010 Brooklyn Invitational. [Mike McCabe]
“The Internet has changed everything,” Copeland continued. “I wouldn’t know half these people if it was twenty or thirty years ago when everything was word of mouth. Now, you get to see these people’s work on the Web. We had bikes built by Swedish builders Martin Carlgren and Nicke Svensson and a bike by Toshiyuki Cheetah Osawa of Tokyo at the event this year."

A custom twin-carb Knucklehead hillclimber by Swedish builder Nicke Svensson. [Mike McCabe]
The location of the show shifted in 2010 to ROOT Studio; a ten-thousand square foot venue on North 14th street between Wythe and Kent in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Copeland, Keino and Schad maintained the free “one day only” you snooze you lose approach. 1PM to 11PM on an anonymous Saturday in September. The event remained small but the list of bike builders changed every year and started to include an international perspective. Over the years in a side room people sold some biker related fashion, Matt Davis of DICE, a longtime friend of the show set up a table for his magazine a few times. Tom Fugle also set up a table where he sold his handcrafted wallets and rock paintings, Shige Suganuma of Mooneyes attended one year and featured the event in his MOON Illustrated. Live music was added— Noted local tattooers like Diego Mannino (who worked at Daredevil tattoo at the time) tattooed a special selection of small pieces he designed for the event.

The late Matt Davis' (DiCE magazine) custom Panhead at the 2010 Brooklyn Invitational. [Mike McCabe]
“The list of builders shifted every year to include a selection of different sensibilities,” Copeland continued. “Builders like Max Schaaf, Chris Lindig, Aki Sakamoto, Jeff Wright, Michael Barragan, Walt Siegl, Chopper Dave, Hugh Mackie, Caleb Owens, Brandon Holstein, Shinya Kimura and Dave Polgreen have been a part of this show.” The number of people who visited the show every year was estimated at more than 4000 strong. Hundreds of bikes of every stripe were curbed on the street in front of the Roots building down North 14th. The vibe was always no friction, positive and creative.

A poster for the first Brooklyn Invitational show. [Mike McCabe]
In 2016 for the first time the Invitational had a major motorcycle manufacturer sponsor— Indian Motorcycles played an active role in the show and at the 2017 show promoted its new Scout bobber. The company asked a few top builders to do whatever they wanted to customize the bike: Keino, Roland Sands, Satya Kraus and Steve Caballero got bikes that were featured at that show.

Towards the end of its run, motoring celebrities like Magnus Walker and Hannah Elliot attended the Brooklyn Invitational. [Mike McCabe]
Keino’s building timeline was short: He conceived and built his Scout in six weeks. “Indian contacted me about being a part of this new model promotional project,” Keino said. “They said they wanted to pick multiple builders of different styles based on the new Scout model and show the bikes at this year’s Invitational. That was a cool collaboration with Indian as far as a sponsorship. We worked carefully with them not to go overboard with the brand and to coexist together at the Invitational.

John Copeland's Pnahead custom, at his Johnson Avenue garage. [Mike McCabe]
“Basically, they said do whatever I want and they didn’t want to interfere with the creativity.  They wanted to see something different and of course, I just did my own thing. I reworked the tank completely from scratch. Anything aluminum on the bike except for the exhaust pipe end is worked from a flat piece of aluminum. Originally, I was given three months to complete the custom build but for a mixture of reasons, the schedule got pushed back. So I ended up with six weeks and I said to myself, OK, I guess I gotta make this happen.”

Keino Sasaki's Pan/Shovelhead build for the first Brooklyn Invitational [Mike McCabe]
Throughout its ten year history, Copeland, Keino and Schad followed the process and allowed the Invitational to grow organically. The final show in 2018 was a huge success and once again everyone had a good day. More than 4000 motorcycle enthusiasts got together at ROOT in a low-key creative environment, walked through the bikes inside and also along the sidewalk outside where hundreds of impressive bikes were curbed. As Copeland had always intended── for one day everyone relaxed, eyeballed the different styles and platforms of top international and local bike builders as they appreciated the dynamic culture of motorcycles.

The late Ray Abeyta's Ford pickup in Williamsburg. [Mike McCabe]
[1] 2009 show builders

Lock Baker Eastern Fabrication CT
Andy Camay Private, Brooklyn NY
John Copeland Private, Brooklyn NY
Paul Cox Paul Cox Industries NY
Bill Dodge Blings Cycles NJ
Neil Fenton Private, Brooklyn NY
Krazy Kevin Private, Long Island NY
Alex Lerner Private, Queens NY
Kevin Orangers Private, Brooklyn NY
Rich Philipps Rich Phillips custom leather MO
Keino Sasaki Keino Cycles NY
Jeffrey Schad Private, Brooklyn NY
Walt siegl Walt siegl NH
Tim Vander Private, Brooklyn NY

Candy and Lisa at the 2017 Brooklyn Invitational. [Mike McCabe]
John Copeland in 2012. [Mike McCabe]
Custom builds from Christian Sosa and Matt Davis in the 2017 Brooklyn Invitationa. [Mike McCabe]
Keino Cycles' modern Indian Scout custom, when Indian sponsored the event. [Mike McCabe]
Paul Cox at work in preparation for the Brooklyn Invitational in 2012. [Mike McCabe]
Walt Siegl's custom Ducati at the 2017 Brooklyn Invitational. [Mike McCabe]
 

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

by Michael McCabe

New York City Bosozoku

Osa-san’s Sense of Ride

After World War II, life in Japan changed dramatically. The country was physically devastated, occupied by the US military until 1952, forced to abandon its previous Imperial form of government, and forbidden from rebuilding certain industries previously associated with the war machine - notably aviation.  Many industries that had supplied the military since the mid-1930s scrambled to find new uses for their manufacturing know-how, and re-tooled for new options like providing inexpensive transportation, especially motorcycle production for urban transport.  During the 1950s, Japan experienced a dramatic surge in motorcycle production that progressed from a small, domestic industry into a global leader. This growth was fueled by the country's post-war economic recovery, foreign and domestic investment through government loans, allied with an explosion of demand for affordable transportation. Initially, hundreds of small companies entered the motorcycle market, but according to the book Japan's Motorcycle Wars, the dominant brands had previous experience mass-producing engineered items for the Japanese military, and were already big companies.

The origins of Bosozoku youth motorcycle in Japan, in the 1960s: the bikes are modified for speed like traditional cafe racers of the period. [LIFE magazine archive]
Early Japanese motorcycles were designed for practicality and reliability that focused on basic transportation needs. As the industry grew, manufacturers like Honda, Yamaha, Suzuki and Kawasaki invested in innovation, improved engine performance, build quality, and design. From a production of just 200 motorcycles in 1948, Japan's output climbed dramatically and reached nearly 1.5 million motorcycles per year by 1960[1]. Post war Japanese culture put stress on young people to focus on achievement and personal sacrifice, and to this day remains brutal in its demands: respect for history, place, and elders, with an emphasis on performance in school, all of which breeds what for many feels like a suffocating conformity. For some, the pressure to conform is too much, and some kids push back. Over the years, dozens of youth fashion subcultures have provided spectacular, performative alternative lifestyles: Free-ter, Fruits, Goth, Cosplay (costume plus play kosupure), Bandage Cult, Rockabilly and Bad Boys have acted as behavioral relief valves.

Bosozoku groups used modified cars and motorcycles, making a dramatic spectacle in the early morning hours of Japanese cities. [One Night Carnival]
During the 1950s, groups of young men and girls in Tokyo, Osaka and Nagoya pieced together a new urban motorcycle-based subcultural identity they called Bosozoku (Violent Running Tribe).  While initially similar to other 'rebel' motorcycle subcultures around the world growing at the same time, the Bosozoku evolved over time with a distinctive style of costume and car / motorcycle modifications, which is still extant today, although the the criminal elements originally central to the subculture have faded: the Bosozoku were initially a recruiting ground for Yakuza criminal gangs, and occasionally engaged in violent activities.  Their cars and motorcycles were customized for speed and style, generating an industry of bolt-on performance parts used in their vehicle customization.  Eventually, by the 1990s, these customs grew increasingly extravagant, with highly raised handlebars, elongated seats, and outrageous exhaust systems modified to amplify engine noise. Group members wore outfits mimicking what kamikaze pilots had worn on their last flight. Political attitudes of Bosozoku skewed towards nativist, nationalistic values. Competing, roving bands of teenage Bosozoku blasted through urban areas at 3am, flying red battle flags, completely disrupting the night, and pissing off the civilians.

Flashy riding is certainly not new as this image of a Tokyo Bosozoku rider in the 1960s shows. [The Vintagent Archive]
Osa-san, a New York enthusiast of Bosozoku motorcycle style, tells his story: “I was born in Nagoya, Japan in the Midori-ku section. In New York I ride with a small group of Japanese guys and we all have older style Japanese motorcycles. We have a team leader and we have a team mechanic who has a motorcycle garage, and if we have any problems we can work with him. This is New York and we are all working hard to make money to pay the rent, but we have our minds on our motorcycles. We customize our bikes in certain ways. We have been doing this for six or seven years (at time of interview)."

Osa-san with his customized Yamaha SR500 in New York City. [Mike McCabe]
“The major cities in Japan like Tokyo, Osaka and Nagoya have groups of motorcycle gangs. These gangs are called Bosozoku[2]. They race around these cities and are known for making a lot of noise. Their engines are known for that high-pitched racing sound. These guys like the sound of their bikes and it is like a badge of honor for Bosozoku. Normal people in Japan are very quiet. They don’t make a lot of noise. Noise is seen as a dirty thing. So, Bosozoku like to make noise. This is countercultural statement. These guys race around the city streets in a place like Tokyo and make a loud statement about their life. Now in New York, we ride around downtown streets in the East Village or in Brooklyn or Coney Island and we make this same Bosozoku noise like in Japan– WHAAAaaa ma ma ma ma ma…. this is Bosozoku. One time we were on St. Mark’s Place and the police noticed our group and this making of noise. They walked over to us and started talking with us. Then they noticed we were all speaking Japanese. We were polite but nobody spoke English. Police looked at each other and just walked away."

A Bosozoku group in New York City, under the Brooklyn Bridge. [Mike McCabe]
“In Japan the Bosozoku guys are the ones that did not do so well in school. They did not study a lot and then they did not do so well on their exams. These young people just hung around and maybe they got some job doing something. They finally got the money to buy a motorcycle. After they got the motorcycle a lot of these guys join the Bosozoku. It depends on the person, but [for example] they find a job doing construction work. They can make a lot of money doing this. They probably get paid cash for their labor. So, the money they make they put it into their motorcycles. So, then they have a life of going fast, hanging out, finding girls. They hang out in bad areas of the big cities. Like in Tokyo, these motorcycle guys hang out all night in Kabuki-cho. Gambling, sex bars, crazy clubs. So from fourteen or fifteen years old to maybe twenty they are Bosozoku. After that some of those people stop riding in the streets like that. Then a percentage of these young guys go into the Yakuza. They do jobs for the family. They get a job on their motorcycle taking certain packages to certain places."

BEET is a famous speed parts company in Japan, and stickers for BEET and other parts suppliers are common on Bosozoku bikes. [Mike McCabe]
“Here in New York we don’t behave like this. We ride our motorcycles and we make noise but we don’t take packages around to places. We work as designers or as sushi chefs in Japanese restaurants. We are legal Bosozoku. We are already old now and not young guys anymore. My team leader is already thirty-eight. So we are getting old. So no more of that crazy, crazy life. Now we just customize our motorcycles and we are just riding. Maybe we still make a little noise. Basically, the guys in my group are collecting 1970s and 1980s Japanese motorcycles. No American, no European; just Japanese. Older Kawasaki two-stroke motors. These motorcycles are almost considered vintage at this point. The bike I ride now is an original Yamaha SR500 but I have changed everything. It took me two years to finish customizing this motorcycle. I bought it in 2001 just before 9/11. We have twelve people in our group and we all do our own work on our motorcycles."

A member of Osa-san's gang working on his Kawasaki KZ-based cafe racer. [Mike McCabe]
“Japanese motorcycles have made a reputation for themselves. Honda made a four cylinder piston system and this changed everything. If people want to make a fast bike the four pistons are very powerful but also smooth. This arrangement changes the torque. The members in my group, we ride Japanese motorcycles because we like Japanese motorcycle. I like Harleys too but they are expensive. I like riding in the city because it attracts people. They hear my motorcycle; it’s loud and then they see it. It looks racy and kind of custom. It’s not normal. My pipes are a little high. People like it. I work on my motorcycle and nobody else touches my motorcycle. I do it myself. If there is something wrong, it is my responsibility. I try to be safe. I check over my bike. This is important to me. I constantly look at the different parts of my motorcycle and think about improving them. Like my brakes- Recently I looked at my calipers; they are from ‘76 and this is pretty old. The rotors and master cylinder were old. I couldn’t stop if it was raining. I did not want to ride this way in a place like New York. There are enough problems riding in New York. I do not need new problems of not stopping."

Out on the streets: Osa-san sitting in an East Village cafe, near his bike. [Mike McCabe]
“It is important for me to ride in New York City. This is an important city. People respect this place. I tell people that I ride the streets of New York and they respect this. For me this is a good feeling. I like riding in Japanese cities too. Riding in Tokyo is pretty crazy but riding in New York is a different kind of crazy. For me there is something more futuristic about riding in New York. It is a really old city but still it’s like a progressive place. Late at night when you ride through the high buildings of midtown this is a little crazy. This is like riding through an Akira (Katsuhiro Otomo) animation. Post-apocalyptic neo-Tokyo. That is the type of feeling I get when I ride at night through mid-town. New York is a very beautiful city to ride a motorcycle. At night on Madison Avenue around forty-sixth street it is very quiet. The buildings are very tall and it is dark and I can hear my motorcycle echo off the buildings down the streets. My motorcycle has a special sound. This is not just noise. This is different for me. My motorcycle sound is controlled. A lot of motorcycle people just make loud noise. I don’t think this is that cool. I like when the sound is controlled."

Osa-san's Yamaha SR500 streetfighter, inside a NYC sushi restauraunt. [Mike McCabe]
“My motor is made for off-road so it’s pretty loud. I have a SuperTrapp exhaust for better performance. I can control how much air goes out. This type of thing is important for a racing machine. Every day the temperature and humidity changes so I can change the way the system works. My carburetor responds differently every day. For me, this keeps it more interesting. Of course, some days the air is heavy, some days not. This changes the way the air comes into the engine, mixes with the gas and burns. I don’t change the mixture every day but I am sensitive to this and how it affects my motor’s performance. The needle and jet settings. I don’t think Japanese motorcycles are more sensitive, just different. Any motorcycle is sensitive to these things. But I do notice that riding in New York is different than riding in a place like Tokyo or Nagoya. The motor behaves differently because the atmospheric conditions are different. The ride is different. I am not talking just speed; I am talking a sense of ride. This is different. In New York I like being sensitive to my motor and I like being sensitive to my ride.”

The romance of an image is a strong motivating force to identify with any subculture, and the Bosozoku image is particularly strong. [Mike McCabe]
New York City is an incredible place. The scale of the city accommodates and nourishes a cultural mix that is shocking in its diversity and integrity. Like a mirror caught in the endless Droste effect, each creative layer is distinct but also dependent on the others.

[1] The Global Impact of Japanese motorcycle manufacturers, Francis Rozange, 2024.

[2] Bōsōzoku (暴走族, lit. 'Reckless driving group') is a Japanese youth subculture associated with customized motorcycles. The first appearance of these types of biker gangs was in the 1950s. Popularity peaked at an estimated 42,510 members in 1982. Their numbers dropped dramatically in the 2000s, with fewer than 7,297 members in 2012.

[1] Later, in 2020, a Bōsōzoku rally that used to attract thousands of members only had 53 members, with police stating that it was a long time since they had to round up that many people. (from Wikipedia)

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

by Michael McCabe

Cool Garages and Hot Motors

New York City has its own brand of summer heat, and in July it becomes brutally  hot and sticky. For those in the know, old garages with thick cement walls remain cool in the summer, and become zones of refuge for those who wrench on cars and bikes.  It's a side benefit of being a gearhead during the summer. Craig Hoffman’s garage is such a refuge - open by invitation only. His sensibility about high performance cars and motorcycles is an accumulation of experience that is very personal and very private.

Back in the day: Craig with his '73 Camaro after reconnecting in 1987. [Craig Hoffman]
“I was born in Brooklyn and I lived in Queens as a kid.” Craig said. “I must have been about five, and we lived on Grant Avenue in Brooklyn. I used to sit on the stoop with my father and name all the cars going down the street. He taught me how to identify the cars. When I got older I used to hot rod around. Something happened recently that brought me back to those days. Years ago when I was a kid I had a Camaro. I had worked on it to make it go faster. I hot rodded that car and then I sold it and lost track of it for many years. It was one of those things that I always regretted doing. Then recently the car turned up and I bought it again. I got to look at the car and see what I had done to it years ago. I’d look and say, 'Wow, I really fucked that up!'  It’s funny, you see how you evolve. I straightened out the whole car and now it’s really nice."

Not quite a crate: a Chevy big block motor ready to install. [Mike McCabe]
“When I was straightening that car out I could see all the stuff I had used like blue hose fittings, stuff I would consider gaudy now. This car was a mess when it came back to me. I took the whole thing apart and replaced everything. Made it look brand new under the hood. All of the details down to replacing all the nuts and bolts. When I do a rebuild I don’t like to let anything out of here without new front end suspension, control arm bushings, steering and brakes. Everything is updated. The car is going to stop and steer, get up and run. Right down to the wiper motor; I straighten out the wires. I like to do the details. To make the car look like it’s been here. It’s like my signature to do work like this."

Craig Hoffman today, still in his garage. [Mike McCabe]
“I went to Brooklyn High School of Automotive Training.” Craig continued. “I got a little bored with it. I had been working on cars since I was a kid so I knew a lot of the stuff the guys were teaching me. I used to work in gas stations in my teens. I picked up a lot of knowledge just from practical experience. This was probably ‘78-‘79. At a couple stations where I worked, I started to develop a reputation. When a car would come in and nobody knew where to start, I became the go-to guy; they’d say, “Ask Craig”. My wife makes fun of me - she says I must have had my crib up on jack stands. At some point if all this means something to you, then you understand what all the engine noises mean. You take a heavy gauge screwdriver and put it against the manifold and put your ear to it. You listen. It’s your stethoscope."

Craig's 2004 Harley-Davidson Springer Softail. [Mike McCabe]
“A lot of the oil they use today is not friendly to the flat tappet cams,” Craig said. “Today, most of the cars use roller cams. These hot rods have a flat tappet that rides on the lifter to actuate the cams. The old oil had a high level of zinc that would adhere to the metal to make it easier for the cams. The EPA mandated that the zinc was bad and they took it out of all modern oils. If you use modern oil in one of these high performance motors, you’re going to ruin the cams. If you wipe out the cam all that metal has to go somewhere and it gets into the oil. It will wipe out your crank shaft bearings and that’s the end of that. This stuff is as fine as talcum powder but it’s still going somewhere. If you really want to look for engine wear the only way to really tell is to take the motor apart and mic (micrometer) it up. Measure the OD (outside diameter) of the crank and the ID (inside diameter) of the bearing.

Hot on the street: a 1972 Chevy Nova built by Craig. [Mike McCabe]
“When I was younger and I got deeper into this, there was a specialized knowledge some people had. Secrets. The motor I am putting into this car now [sitting in his shop at the time of the interview] was built by a guy who is not a throw-together guy. He is known for high horsepower motors. His name is Lee at Lab Precision. Ever since I was young, I understood there were levels of knowledge with some guys."

John Delaney's Chevelle, a rebuild in progress in the garage. [Mike McCabe]
“I was always into anything mechanical,” Craig said “I’ll take anything apart. Some guys are afraid to take something apart because they won’t be able to get it back together. I’ll take anything apart. I’m a GM guy- I don’t know, I was always into Chevys. Now I have an Oldsmobile. Everyone dropped Chevy motors in their Oldsmobiles; it’s easier and cheaper. The parts are more plentiful. But I wanted to build an Oldsmobile motor. So I spent the extra time, money and effort to build an Oldsmobile. The bore is different and the stroke is different with an Oldsmobile. The angle of the cylinders is different. If you look at a Chevy motor it’s a narrower angle on the intake manifold. With an Oldsmobile it’s different. The pistons are at a wider angle. Oldsmobile’s have a longer stroke which creates more torque. Think of it as leverage. A longer stroke gives you a longer lever so you are getting more twisting force. Torque is what’s fun about driving around in the street. Torque is what pins you back in your seat and what gets your heart pounding. Torque is what gets the car moving; horsepower is what keeps it moving."

Old friends; Craig Hoffman and John Delaney in their favorite hangout. Note the chopper on the bench. [Mike McCabe]
“The Olds motors are known for low RPM torque, the Chevy motor is known for higher RPM horsepower. The Olds and Buicks make a lot of low RPM torque. The Chevy is better for racing around a track because they have that high horsepower. But beating it from light to light you want that Olds motor. You gotta know what you’re doing to build an Olds motor because they don’t hold together as good as a Chevy. You can wind a Chevy up to seven grand and beat on it and it will hold together. Chevy spent a lot of time and money making four bolt main blocks and steel cranks. Oldsmobile didn’t go for a lot of that. But if you know what you’re doing and put the Oldsmobile parts together right you’ll have a real steamroller. It’ll just get up and run.

Sometimes an Oldsmobile... this 1965 442 is considered by many to be the best of the bunch. [Mike McCabe]
“There’s a lot of brand loyalty,” Craig continued. “There are guys who are like purists. If it didn’t come from the factory they wouldn’t have it. We’re more like hot rodders. If it don’t make it go fast we don’t want it. If it’s not GM we don’t deal with it much but if it is GM then we can make it go faster and that’s the idea. I was never an Oldsmobile guy but I found this ‘65 442. I got a good deal; there was no rust and it was a nice car. Now I’m an Olds guy. This Chevelle [car sitting in the garage during the interview] - my friend John (Delaney) didn’t have a dime but the boys in the garage loaned him the money until his tax return came in. We dragged the car here with a rope. He couldn’t get the smile off his face for two hours. Now we are working to make this car fast. It had a six-cylinder with a Power Glide automatic that had sat down on its rims in a plumber’s garage for five years,” Craig said.  “We brought it home, got a battery, fooled around with it for twenty minutes and I got that six cylinder going. We drove it around the street five times and then we took the motor out and threw it in the junkyard and put in a big block motor. We put in new headers, and a new intake cam. We all just do this kind of stuff for shits and giggles."

Power in the driver's seat: John's Chevelle. [Mike McCabe]
“We all pitch in together here. I have a good reputation. I try to do things right. It usually works out that the cars I work on are friend’s cars. If they weren’t friends they wouldn’t be in here. I wouldn’t work on their cars. There are some people out there who have asked me to do work but no; I really don’t know them. People have come in and they say, “I just want you to do this.” I tell them, “No, I do it my way. The car ain’t leaving here unless I say it’s ready to leave.” My garage is almost a clubhouse. I have always thought that some of the best ideas and work gets done in a place like this. John here and the other guys; sometimes we just sit here on a rainy night. Talkin’ and dreamin’.”

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

 

by Michael McCabe

Looking for Matadors in Madrid

There are literally thousands of street-parked motorcycles in the Spanish city of Madrid. Like many places in Europe, two wheeled moto-culture is outpacing four wheeled options. Barcelona - the place of origin for the legendary Bultaco brand - has the highest number of motorcycles, with over half a million registered there.  That's partly due to its large population, and partly because it's Spain's second-largest metropolitan area, where motorcycles are more practical than cars. Madrid has the second-highest number of bikes registered: 301,324. Scooters, or Vespa-type vehicles, are ideal for Spain, especially its warmer regions, and particularly its urban areas. Ownership of scoooters has risen by 50% in the past decade [partly due to older/cheaper cars being regulated off the road - ed.]. Beyond the influence of a forgiving climate, economics and demographics, some wonder if there are deeper cultural undercurrents in Spain…could the relationship between rider and motorcycle reflect the classic Spanish dyad of the poised matador and the dangerous, wild bull?

A vintage bullfighting poster spotted in Madrid. [Mike McCabe]
Spain has a deep, consequential history in finance, literature, architecture, art, and yes motorcycles, that continues to reshape the world as we know it today. During the Age of Discovery in the 15th and 16th centuries, Spain extracted 180 tons of gold and 150 thousand tons of silver from its South American colonies; this unprecedented influx of capital reshaped Spanish and European finance.[1] Writer Miguel de Cervantes (1547-1616) who wrote the story Don Quixote: Man of La Mancha, is credited with penning the first novel, as we know the form today. Spanish painters El Greco (1541 -1614), Diego Velazquez (1599-1660) and Francisco Goya (1746-1828) opened the modernist door for Antoni Gaudi (1852-1925) and Pablo Picasso (1881-1973). On two wheels, Francisco Xavier ‘Paco’ Bulto (1912-1998) and his kick-ass Bultaco two–stroke bike designs (Pursang, Sherpa T, Astro and Matador) forever changed the expectations of motocross, trials and enduro sport.

Vintage promo poster for the Bultaco Matador. [Mike McCabe]
The Spanish Matador principle

La corrida (or corrida de toros) refers to the Spanish-style bullfight that is still legal in Madrid, and since 2016 throughout the entire country of Spain. A few regions and cities like Barcelona have banned bullfighting on animal rights grounds, but most of those bans were overturned by the national government. The historic bullring in Madrid, Plaza de Toros deost Las Ventas (las Ventas) was built in the Guindalera quarter of the Salamanca district in 1931 with a seating capacity of 23,798: it's the largest bll ring in Spain and third largest in the world, after bull rings in Mexico and Venezuela. It was designed by architect Jose Espeliu in the Neo-Mudejar style with ceramic tile incrustations that refer to a Moorish historical past [Spain (Al-Andalus) was part of the Moorish empire for 800 years! - ed]. [2]  The bullfighting season starts in March and ends in October and during the San Isidro Fiesta, fights are held every weekday and every Sunday or holiday. The fights unfold as a formal, layered and complicated ceremony that start at 6 or 7pm and last for two to three hours.

Matadors (toreros) featured in a vintage poster in a Madrid bullfighting bar. [Mike McCabe]
The image of the solitary, elegant matador, who strategically dances close to death with the brutally provoked, hulking, wild-eyed bull is a powerful, archetypal metaphor that, as Ernest Hemingway said, [3]  best represents ‘grace under fire’. Hemingway wrote; ‘Bullfighting is the only art in which the artist is in danger of death and in which the degree of brilliance in the performance is left to the fighter's honor.’  The Spanish etymology of the word matador literally means 'killer'.

The daily two-wheeled toreros of Madrid. [Mike McCabe]
In Madrid and Seville near the historic bullrings, there are classic bullfighting bars where man drink strong vermouth Marianito cocktails and eat tapas in the dim light, surrounded by huge, taxidermied bull heads with menacing horns. Framed, classic bullfighting posters and photos of historic bullfights decorate the walls and reveal when the contest went bad and matadors were gored in their stomachs by angry bulls and then flipped into the air like a child’s doll.  In the southern city of Seville, said to represent the ‘soul’ of Spain, young boys still play in the narrow ‘Kissing Lane’ alleys holding red rags, with dreams of becoming a legendary matador.[4]

The 16th Century Casa de Salinas in Seville. Built from the wealth created from New World trade in silver, gold, and slaves. [Mike McCabe]
Francisco ‘Paco’ Bultó Marquès (1912-1998) was a Barcelona, Spain (Catalan) businessman, motorcycle engineer and commercial matador of sorts, best known as the founder of Bultaco Motorcycles. He was the original director of the Montesa motorcycle company, founded in 1944 and lived by the credo, ‘The market follows the checkered flag’. After several years of steady growth and road-racing success, in 1957, Montesa moved to larger facilities, but the process was disorganized and thus production destabilized. A split in business philosophy soon followed, as Montesa management decided to move away from both racing, and manufacturing racing machines. Bulto became increasingly frustrated with the situation and left Montesa along with several talented designers and engineers in 1958; they formed Bultaco Motorcycles (a grammatical contraction of Bulto and Paco). The iconic Bultaco ‘Thumbs Up’ logo was developed after Bulto noticed during a race, British racer, David Whitworth giving the thumbs up signal to his pit crew.

A Bultaco Matador in action in 1972. [Manuel Garriga]
Early Bultaco production facilities started simply in a farmhouse located outside Barcelona, but then relocated to other farmland owned by the local mayor, where a factory was built. In 1959 the new Bultaco brand started simply, first producing a few finished bikes a day, and slowly expanded production with a growing workforce drawn from Montesa workers who were looking for a better opportunity. The new Bultaco produced standard street and road racing models, but the brand’s true reputation rested on its off-road line up of small, agile, and strong two-strokers that literally overwhelmed the competition that still relied on heavy four-strokers.

A 200cc Bultaco Enduro of the late 1960s. [Mike McCabe]
The new models of the Bultaco brand were first presented in 1960 in Barcelona, at the Municipal Palace of Sports, and then in Madrid: that year production increased to 4,171 bikes. Bulto continued to believe in his ‘Checkered Flag’ approach, thinking that notoriety for his new brand depended not on commercial advertising but on racing success for its first models: the Tralla 101 and Tralla 101 Sport (Tralla is Spanish for whip and also whiplash). A racing program called the Escudaria Dos Tiempo (the Two Stroke Team) was created by Paco Gonzalez, Marcelo Cama, John Grace (England), and Georges Monneret (France) [part of the famous Velocette 24hrs @ 100mph team at Montlhéry in 1961 - ed]. In the coming years Bultaco two stroke motorcycles would dominate the competitive landscape.

Another 1972 shot of a Bultaco Matador enduro from the collection of Manuel Garriga.

In 1963 Bulto went all-in with his competition MX/Enduro plan, and production of Bultaco street bikes was cut back dramatically to the Metralla and Mercurio models.  That year Bultaco produced 11,836 bikes, with 885 bikes exported - predominantly to the American market. Production continued to increase and in 1966 20,042 bikes were produced, with 7,199 going to the US. At that time there were four Bultaco distributors in America; one in New York and three on the West Coast.

The Bultaco racing record in the early years

Motocross

1st in the I Motocross International of Barcelona in the categories of 125 National and 250 International (Joan Soler and Don Rickman);

1st in the Great XII Motocross Spain Grand Prix (Pomeroy);

1st in the VII Motocross Bay of The Naranjos (Pere Arpa);

1st in the Championship of Spain of Motocross (Toni Elías);

1st in the 37th Six International Days of Trial (Oriol Puig);

Gold and silver medals in Spindleruv Mlyn in 1963 (Joan Soler Bultó and Jose Sánchez).

Trials

1st in the Six Scottish Trial Days of 1965, 1967, 1968, 1973, 1976, 1977 and 1978;

1st in the British Championship of Trial (Sammy Miller) Four European Trial Championships in 1968, 1970, 1973, 1974;

Five World Championships (Sammy Miller, Martin Lampkin).

Road Racing

Seven of the top ten positions at the IX Spanish Grand Prix,

1st and 2nd in the XV International Speed ​​Prize of Madrid (John Grace and Marcelo Leg);

1st in the 24 hours of Montjuïc (Marcelo Cama);

Five world speed records in 175, 250 and 350 with the Bultaco 175, organized by the Streaker Cup: Sito Pons, Carles Garriga, Carles Cardús

Four World Cups with 50cc Ex-Piovaticci 50 (Àngel Nieto).

1965 Scottish Six Days Trial (Sammy Miller)

1968 Trial of Tarragona (Ignacio Bultó) [5]

Vintage photos of toreros in the ring at a bullfighting bar in Madrid: a sport dangerous in the extreme. [Mike McCabe]
Bultaco had a huge impact on the world of motorcycles. Road models like the Tralla and Metralla were catching people’s eye at the same time that the TSS road racer, Pursang motocross, Sherpa T trials bike and Matador enduro developed strong followings at both European and American events. Bultaco two-stroke engines were respected for their outstanding power-to-weight ratio, agility, and performance in off-road trials and motocross, making them a favorite among riders. Unlike most motorcycle manufacturers at the time, Bultaco two-stroke engines had a simpler design with fewer moving parts that allowed for lighter weight, better power output and less maintenance. The Matador was designed to have a split personality between a torquey off roader and a stylish day to day bike you could ride proudly to work. The bike’s Matador name was an intentional reference to the complicated cultural and historical symbolism of the bullfight−− where against all odds, a matador uses his smaller size, style and grace, not brute force to his advantage in conquering a bull.

The Spanish royal palace in Madrid, the largest in continental Europe, which is still occupied by the royal family. [Mike McCabe]
In 1964 Bultaco introduced the Matador 200. The bike was designed to compete in the International 6-Days Trials (ISDT) - the 'Olympics of Motorcycling', considered to be the toughest tests of a motorcycle and rider. The slim but powerful Matador enduro included road equipment like a horn, headlight and turning indicators, and appealed to street riders who liked off-road 'scrambler' styling. The design package featured premier Betor rebuildable suspension components, Akront rims, and had a peak horsepower of 23hp. The Matador was a game-changer, and helped invent a new market for a dual-sport and street-scrambler motorcycles [and unlike other Street Scrambler models, the Matador was an extremely capable off-roader - ed.].[6]

Cerveceria Alemana, the bar in Madrid frequented by Ernest Hemingway in 1959-60, and where he wrote 'Death in the Afternoon'. [Mike McCabe]
Today, if there are street-parked Bultaco Matadors in Madrid and Seville, their presence is not obvious. Finding one among the thousands of curbed bikes in those cities would be unlikely. Like many European countries, Spain is experiencing a two-wheel revolution: Issues of affordability, parking and youth demographic have influenced the trend. This year (2025), Honda continues to dominate the market, with year-to-date sales up 8.9%. Yamaha is in second place but reported a double-digit lost -11.1%. In third place the Chinese Zontes jumped ahead 65.8%, after having increased sales by 10 times between 2020 and 2024 (a definite reflection of price point sensitivity), and BMW is now fourth, with sales up 8.9%, followed by Kymco -27.9%, SYM +5.7% and Kawasaki -1.3%.

Tapas in Barcelona: the national bar snack can be found from the north to the south of the country. [Mike McCabe]
In Barcelona, where the Bultaco story originated, if you mention the name to a guy over sixty, there’s a good chance he has heard of the bikes and knows the brand story.[7] On the other hand, for younger people, even younger motorcycle riders, the brand, its ‘el toro’ mystique and innovative influence has faded from view.

A bullfighting bar in Madrid. [Mike McCabe]
[1] The gold and silver transited from the New World first through Seville to Madrid. Today, there are incredible homes in Seville that were built between the 15th and 16th centuries, Palacio de las Duenas and Casa de Salinas are still inhabited by family members.

[2] The term "Moor" does not pertain to a specific ethnic group. Instead, it is a blanket term used to refer to the Berbers of North Africa and Arabian Muslims who invadd and conquered Spain from the 700s to the 1490s. The traditional blue tiles seen throughout Spain refer back to Moorish, Islamic cultural influences, as does the remarkable Moorish architecture found across central and southern Spain.

[3] Ernest Hemingway explored themes about masculinity in his writing and explored bullfighting and matadors in ‘Death in the Afternoon (1932) and ‘The Dangerous Summer’ (1960), a non-fiction piece he wrote for a Life Magazine cover article. The full story was published posthumously in its entirety in 1985.

Hemingway’s words skillfully describe the complexity of the bullfight:

'He made two series of eight naturales [passes with a small red cloth] in beautiful style and then on a right-hand pass with the bull coming at him from the rear, the bull had him. . . . The horn seemed to go into his body and the bull tossed him a good six feet or more into the air. His arms and legs were spread wide, the sword and muleta were thrown clear and he fell on his head. The bull stepped on him trying to get the horn into him and missed him twice. . . . He was up in an instant. The horn had not gone in but had passed between his legs . . . and there was no wound. [He] paid no attention to what the bull had done to him and waving everyone away went on with his faena [work].'

[4] The majority of Spaniards are against bullfighting. According to official data from Spain’s Culture Ministry, there has been a sharp decline in the number of bullfights since 2015. Only 8 per cent of Spaniards went to a bullfight between 2018 and 2019. In addition, we know that 90.5 per cent of Spaniards did not attend a bullfight in 2018. Even though more than 90 per cent of Spaniards do not go to bullfights, more than 9,000 bulls will be killed this year. More than 50,000 bulls will be hired and exploited during bull festivals

[5] From Club Bultaco Australia 2016-2021

[6] From Classic Motocross Iron: Tom White, 2024, MXA Motocross Action.

[7] On the flight from JFK to Barcelona the sixty-nine year old man sitting next to me (a computer hardware designer), rode a Bultaco Matador as a kid. He was fluent about the brand and told me the Paco Bulto story verbatim.

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. Read his other articles for The Vintagent here.

by Michael McCabe

Keeping Time - the Bulgari Car Collection

Most gearheads would jump at the opportunity to oversee and care for an esoteric collection of historic cars. It's an opportunity to go deep with each car and its idiosyncrasies: the brands and models, their dates and location of production, the designers and particular materials used in their manufacturing, the choices made - the what and why - and the specific personalities of the individual cars in the collection.  Those certain noises, the pings and knocks of under- or over-fed combustion chambers, the clicks and creeks of springs, the tapping of valves and lifters: it's like studying a private language. A schooled ear can decode a novel from the noises each individual car makes.

Manuelito Zambelli and Marcello Gazella Furfaro in the Bulgari garage near Siena. [Mike McCabe]
Manuelito Zambelli and Marcello Gazzella Furfaro are two lucky young men who have such a dream job; they are the mechanics and caretakers of Nicola Bulgari’s car collection in Rome and the 27 cars in his collection outside Siena, Italy. Both young men come from machine culture families; Marcello’s dad is an industrial designer for an international agricultural equipment company. From a young age he has lived with machines in Italy, South Africa, France and other locales. Manuelito is from a multi-generational car mechanics' family; his grandfather and his father have maintained noteworthy garages; He has
inherited and lives with a deep sense of appreciation about the history and culture of automobiles.

Nicola Bulgari with a Buick, his favorite marque. [Renato Zacchia / Bultgari.it ]
Nicola Bulgari has a world-renowned reputation for his Rome based, multi-Billion dollar watch and jewelry empire that his Greek-born grandfather, Sotirios Voulgaris started in 1884. He also has a reputation for his more than impressive car collection and his love and respect for historic American automobiles. Mr. Bulgari could collect anything he liked, but prefers to focus on relatively common American rides from the 1930s and 1940s, with a particular emphasis on Buicks. As a young boy after the War years, his eye was drawn to the small selection of American cars driving the streets of Rome[1]. The size and shapes of the cars were exotic and endlessly captivating to the young Bulgari; no European cars of that time turned heads in the same way. At his personal website (nicolabulgari.it), Mr. Bulgari explains: “For as long as I can remember, l have loved sedans, which are more dignified. I bought my first when I was five years old, in 1946, while on a trip with my father to Lugano in Switzerland. Italy was very gloomy after the war, but with all the lights, the shops, the Buick taxis, Switzerland was like another world. So I bought a little Dinky Toy of a 1939 Buick, which I still cherish - the first item in my collection."

A 1927 Buick sedan that has tremendous symbolic importance to Mr. Bulgari: he remembers seeing this model (likely this very car) as a boy in Rome. [Mike McCabe]
“It has been a prolonged process, more than 25 years, to get to where we are now, with cars in both America and in Italy.  Our wonderfully skilled and dedicated group of restorers not only restore and maintain but train and engage future generations. Today, we offer the possibility to students to gain valuable experience at our NB Center’s own workshops in Rome and Allentown, helping to develop the knowledge, skills and expertise required to maintain vintage vehicles as fully drivable and living machines rather than static museum pieces.”

There's something graceful about a 1930s American car: this is a 1939 Buick. [Mike McCabe]
Bulgari's collection of more than 200 cars is spread out in private garages in Allentown PA, Rome Italy, and in a small, newly renovated two-story building with a sleek, modernist look close to Mr. Bulgari’s Tuscany country estate near Siena. Inside the Siena building, it is pin-drop quiet. The spotless cement floors are shiny with thick, warm white epoxy paint. Rubber and gasoline are better educated fragrances and more refined around the 27 mostly American cars that sit silently in neat rows three feet from each other under florescent lighting.  On the ground floor there are big classic cars from the 1930s and 1940s. Upstairs, after a ride on a high-tech, diamond plated car-sized lift, a half dozen iconic American muscle cars: an early ‘70s yellow Chevy Camaro, a red ‘70s Corvette, a black, early 1980s, Buick Grand National, and a pristine, silver, 1966 split window Corvette. The scene is literally mind blowing.

Marcello Gazella Furfaro at his dream job, a keeper of the flame. [Mike McCabe]
“Mr. Bulgari loved cars since he was a young boy,” Manuelito says as he points towards the old cars. “Maybe he was four years old living in Rome after World War two…. He saw American cars on the streets── Packards, Cadillacs and Buicks…  He was impressed by the exotic styling. Nothing like this existed in Italy or Europe… He studied the cars and styles and remembered the names on the doors and grilles. The size and elegance of each car. As a young man, Mr. Bulgari bought his first car. This was the beginning.”

Lead mechanic Manuelito Zambelli with some American muscle - a Corvette Sting Ray. [Mike McCabe]
Both Manuelito and Marcello are quiet, almost studious types. They move respectfully among the cars and speak calmly as they point out details… “Mr. Bulgari doesn’t have any Fords here,” Manuelito says. “He doesn’t like Fords…” [perhaps because Henry Ford was a Nazi sympathizer? - Ed.] He points to a huge deep green fender of a late ‘30s Buick and moves his hand calmly over the shiny, thick metal without touching; then stops at a series of discreet surface scratches clustered at the front edge near the headlight…. “Mr. Bulgari even preserves the scratches,” Marcello says. “These scratches are maybe ninety years old. Maybe somebody loved this car too much… Too much polishing. We are careful… There is grit in common dust. Too much love scratches the paint.” Manuelito skillfully lifts the hoods of the yellow Camaro and silver Corvette… The huge displacement engines, the air cleaners, spark plug covers, alternators and valve covers are just as clean and cared for as the car’s outside paint.

Given Bulgari's Billions, many are surprised that he collects cars that can be found on the streets of the USA even today, like this Corvette and Camaro. [Mike McCabe]
Because of the sequestered location of this garage and the age and condition of the cars, a sense of preciousness could easily be implied, but Mr. Bulgari is not precious about his cars. Instead, his interest in collecting these cars is to explore and rejoice in how these cars represent a unique moment in time.  When elements of industrial design, aesthetics, materials and production merged to create affordable mass-produced beauty for the average consumer. Manuelito explains: “Mr. Bulgari loves these cars because they are a special beauty from a time when America could make these things. These cars were made by many people who worked together in noisy industrial places. And look what they made. Everything worked together to make these cars. Mr. Bulgari realizes this is an incredible thing and wants to preserve this."

Having visited Bulgari's collection in Allentown PA, I can confirm that the interior is basically identical, as is the collection. [Mike McCabe]
“We start the cars regularly,” Manuelito says. “We drive the cars out of the garage and give them exercise… This is very important. The fluids must be circulated. These are functioning cars.” The unique Siena garage setting filled with restored and fully functional historic American cars is testament to Nicola Bulgari’s belief that history is not stationary, but always in the process of moving.

[1] During the early days of World War II in Italy, there are numerous stories of owners of American cars in Rome  who secretly buried their cars to prevent them being confiscated by the Germans. A young Nicola Bulgari saw the cars that survived.

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

 

by Michael McCabe

Forever Two Wheels Siena

'The Vanishing Point' and Keeping Your Balance in an Old Town

"Jimmy Kowalski: Listen, I need some gas.

Vision Quest Indian: You need more than gas to get where you're going." - Vanishing Point, 1971

There are motorcycles and bicycles everywhere on the picturesque, medieval streets of Siena, Italy. It's a UNESCO World Heritage site, which means it has rules about preserving local history. Four-wheel vehicle parking lots are strategically located out of the way, and motorists that park there are expected to switch to two wheels or walk. Siena is the most intact medieval city in Europe, and like other Tuscan hill towns, was first settled in the time of the Etruscans (c. 900–400 BC) when it was inhabited by a tribe called the Saina (there are still traditional basement restaurants in Siena with Etruscan vaulted ceilings). A Roman town called Saena Julia was founded at the site in the time of the Emperor Augustus.  Siena acquired a Gothic appearance between the 12th and 15th centuries, which has remained its flavor through the centuries. The visual contrast between modern two-wheel transport and the narrow old streets with 700-year old buildings provides food for thought about the pros and cons of different eras.

An Annunciation painting by Renaissance painter Domenico do Zanobi. [Mike McCabe]
Life changed dramatically in Siena during the Plague years (1340s) when the city lost half of its population. Some say the Plague forever handicapped Siena's development, freezing it in time and enabling its nearby rival Florence to thrive during the Renaissance (1400-1600), where a critical mass of cultural, scientific and artistic innovation erupted via the minds and hands of daVinci, Michelangelo, Brunelleschi and others who re-wrote the script of Western engineering, art, scientific endeavor and thought.

Claudio on his Honda Africa Twin, one of the most popular bikes in Italy. "I've have ridden all over Europe!" [Mike McCabe]
That script is continually rewritten, and people who ride motorcycles share a common intelligence in their forward motion that harks back to Siena and Florence, the Renaissance and its cast of innovators. Riders have learned to focus, eyes ahead through the turns, pushing, almost floating within an undisturbed line of sight towards what is called the vanishing point. Without this critical awareness of perspective and movement through three-dimensional space, riders would lose their bearings and fall calamitously to the ground. It’s hard to believe but the way we perceive space today and how we maintain our balance is the byproduct of a long historical process[1].

The exquisite Basilica di San Lorenzo by Filipo Brunelleschi, 1470. [Mike McCabe]
Axial Perspective as it is known - the awareness of being integrated into an axis and line of sight towards the vanishing point - is not innate, it is a practiced, nuanced skill. An understanding of one's surrounding space with a fore, middle and background was first pondered by the Egyptians, then pursued by Greeks and Romans, then suppressed by the Church in the Middle Ages [2], but was finally rediscovered by artists and architects in 14th Century Renaissance, in Siena and Florence. It was almost as if people hadn’t noticed the dynamic of perspective, and hadn’t integrated it into their sense of self.  But this new way of seeing revolutionized how people oriented themselves, passed through space and experienced their world. With this novel and powerful spatial appreciation, a more sophisticated sense of balance followed [3]. Over time, encouraged by experimentation in individual transport, two-wheeled innovations developed because of lessons learned during the Renaissance - the act of balance required to control a bicycle or motorcycle would have been difficult without them.

Deep perspective: a country road outside Florence, in Tuscany. [Mike McCabe]
A line can be drawn between people riding two-wheeled vehicles today, the balancing skills required, and the first 14th century graphic examples of axial, vanishing point perspective.  At the beginning of the Renaissance a new perception about how objects fit into space, and the surrounding depth of that space, dawned. This insight was not a simple realization, but an evolutionary and revolutionary awareness.  The legendary art theorist John Berger explored the act of perception in his seminal book, “Ways of Seeing” (1972). He summarized that in reality, our perception of the world recedes and eventually vanishes because two parallel lines (like railroad tracks) appear to us to approach one another into the distance and then meet at a point – the vanishing point trick makes a picture recede into its surface in imitation of our perceptions of reality.[4]

Another deep perspective, in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, one of the most amazing museums in the world. [Mike McCabe]
Siena painter Duccio di Buoninsegna was active from at least 1278 until his death in Siena before August 3, 1319. He is considered a key figure in the early stages of the Renaissance but is not generally credited with using a true vanishing point in his paintings. The concept of linear perspective, including the vanishing point, was not widely developed until the early 15th century and is generally credited to the architect, Filippo Brunelleschi. His Basilica of San Lorenzo in Florence, constructed from 1419 to 1459 is an instructional masterclass in axial perspective. Upon completion, people who first visited the basilica became dizzy and felt disoriented by the converging vanishing point sight lines that were in the floor, walls and ceiling [5]. A visit to the cathedral became a seductive, overwhelming and giddy learning experience. Something maybe close to the giddiness a person feels the first time they experiences riding a motorcycle.

Where they hide: in Gothic era buildings, an old stable is the perfect place to park motorbikes. [Mike McCabe]
The 53,000 citizens of Siena continue to live in their spatial history. Every day after dinner, like clockwork, people emerge from their homes into the streets for La Passeggiata, or evening stroll. They walk through their neighborhoods, talk with neighbors and touch base about the day. The ritual of La Passeggiata is literally thousands of years old and dates to the Renaissance. Ritual and movement have always been a part of life in Siena. Important historic events have shaped life in the city.  The Via Francogena or Great Pilgrim Route is the oldest pilgrimage route that crosses Europe. Originating in 1000AD, Christian devotees walked from Canterbury England to Rome and the route passed through the center of Siena. This route acted to transit cross-cultural information from different European areas through the city.

In the Piazza del Campo in Siena at the annual Mille Miglia classic car event. [Mike McCabe]
Movement in the form of horse racing on Siena city streets has a long history. Best known to foreigners is the Palio of Siena, the racing dates from 1232. The Palio was first held in 1482 as a civic celebration. The current course was formally established in 1659 and has been held semiannually on July 2 and on August 16 since 1701, except during wartime. The 17 city neighborhoods known as contrade compete today just as vigorously as the 1400s. Each neighborhood identifies with an animal like the eagle, caterpillar, dragon or snail, and flies a historic identifying flag.

The most popular motorcycle in Italy, a Benelli. [Mike McCabe]
Since the early 20th Century, Siena has distinguished itself with moto-history. The Mille Miglia is an annual vintage car race that blows through the city’s streets every June. It is a re-enactment of a race that took place from 1927 to 1957 and is considered one of the most important time trial races in the world for vintage car enthusiasts. The race starts and ends in Brescia, Lombardy, and spans over four days to cross the North and center of Italy. Eligible cars must date from 1927-1957 and the route courses through Siena and its Piazza del Campo (said to be the most beautiful piazza in Italy). Race participants arrive in the piazza where town people and guests get to review the beauty and pedigree of the cars. The vintage competition is a celebration of motoring heritage, and the focus is on the parade of unique racing cars. Drivers want to win the race but there is also congeniality where drivers and onlookers hope every car rolls safely across the finish line.

Bicycle are big in Siena too, despite the cobblestone streets. [Mike McCabe]
In Italy today, the Benelli TRK 502 is the most popular motorcycle. If the 2023 numbers by Statista Research Department are correct, motorcycle registration in the Tuscany region jumped from 14,759 in 2013 to 21,814 in 2018. These numbers have certainly continued on this upward trajectory: many factors contribute to the rise, including a cooperative climate, affordability, an increased youth demographic, affordability, and ease of use.

With no cars, Siena is a haven for two wheels. [Mike McCabe]
The motorcycles and bicycles of Siena, whether parked against medieval buildings or riding the ancient cobblestoned streets, are not a simple thing. They represent an ongoing living history that integrates the past and present into a diverse story.

Not all perspectives are straight! Siena city center. [Mike McCabe]
[1] he history of spatial perspective traces back to ancient civilizations like Greece and Egypt, where early attempts at cartography and land surveying laid the foundation for understanding spatial relationships through measurement and mapping, with key developments occurring during the Renaissance when artists like Filippo Brunelleschi formalized the mathematical laws of perspective in painting, including the concept of the vanishing point.

[2] During the Middle Ages in Europe; 500-1400AD, after the fall of the Roman Empire, the Byzantine Empire church controlled (subdued) artistic and scientific expression. Art was not supposed to explore observable reality but instead reflect the cannons of the church.

[3] Berger believed a spatial relationship is the arrangement or connection between objects or elements in a physical space. It can also refer to how an object is located in space in relation to another objects.

[4] Berger believed- The convention of perspective, which is unique to European art and which was first established in the early Renaissance, centers everything on the eye of the beholder. It is like a beam from a lighthouse - only instead of light travelling outwards, appearances travel in. Perspective makes the single eye the center of the visible world. Everything converges on to the eye as to the vanishing point of infinity. The visible world is arranged for the spectator as the universe was once thought to be arranged for God. Berger argues that the vanishing point is not just a technical aspect of perspective but also reflects societal power structures, as it positions the viewer as the central point of observation, often at the expense of the depicted subjects

[5] The dizziness and disorientation experienced by people who worshiped at the basilica were attributed to metaphysical religious powers.

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities.

 

by Michael McCabe

Vargo Raceway: A Dragstrip Lost in Time

The gentle, rolling farmland near Allentown, Pennsylvania is not where you'd expect to find a drag strip. There are cows and barns with silos and good ol’ boys riding green John Deere tractors down picturesque dirt roads … and in the middle of the farmland there’s a half-mile strip of faded black tarmac, reflecting the heat of the morning sun. The strip is weathered and cracked and surrounded with low scrub growth. It’s obvious the strip hasn’t been used in a long time, but it’s still there, and has a special history of high-speed eighth- and quarter-mile elimination racing that stretches back to the late 1950s.

Waiting by the return road at Vargo Raceway in a hot rodded Ford. [Joe McNally Archive]
Local historian Joe McNally has done some digging into the local records department and pieced together the history of the strip: the people who built it, dropped the flag, and raced there. Check the Facebook page here. The strip has been closed since 1970 but here's the story; back in mid-1950s a local hot rod club, the Lehigh Valley Timing Association needed a place to race. They turned to a local radio personality Dopey Duncan Geringer for help and he managed somehow to get permission in 1955-56 from the small, local Convair Field Airstrip for weekend racing.

Racing is for lovers: a young couple with their font-engined rail dragster in the early 1960s. [Joe McNally Archive]
The new weekend drag strip didn’t sit too well with the neighbors, who fought hard in local court to close it, saying that a drag strip would attract unwanted, unsavory and possibly criminal elements from Philadelphia and New Jersey. The local politicians caved-in to the pressure and closed the weekend strip.

A serious hot rod dragster getting a little love between heats. Dig the exhaust trumpets. [Joe McNally Archive]
Within a few months a new possibility developed: A second local car club - the Sidewinders - was looking for a place to race and they appealed to a local property owner and drag race enthusiast Jake Vargo for help. He thought it was a good idea to build a strip that could bring young people together and provide them with a supervised place to race their fast machines. He cleared and leveled a piece of his farmland and started construction of a new drag strip in 1958.

A rail dragster getting a push from a c.1960 Cadillac Coupe de Ville. [Joe McNally Archive]
Again, local residents protested the opening of the strip but this time they failed. The first eighth mile drag event was held April 24, 1960 and the first quarter mile event was held on September 11, 1960. The strip, called Vargo Raceway, evolved into an important venue that attracted racing greats like Ronnie Sox, The S&S Team, Gene Altizer, Fred Bear and K.S. Pittman among others. Even horsepower aristocracy like Big Daddy Don Garlits raced there.

Silos and superchargers: Vargo Raceway in Pennsylvania farmland. [Joe McNally Archive]
I was invited to visit the 11th annual Vargo Raceway reunion, held on November 7th 2009. More than 200 vintage dragsters parked side by side along the edge of half mile-piece of pavement, located on the AGA Farm property. The fascinating mix of cars ranged from hot rods, gassers and muscle cars, to a few survivor slingshot dragsters that had actually raced on the track in their heyday. A more recent rear-engine dragster sputtered slowly along the track for the show.

An aerial shot of a recent reunion at Vargo Raceway, showing the decidedly rural environment. [AGA Farms]
The site of the track has been granted historical honors by the local Buck’s County, PA government which will preserve and protect the strip’s history and heritage for future generations of drag racing enthusiasts. Today, a quick Google search will pull up an assortment of Web sites and Facebook connections to the history of the strip.

A very cool shot of a rail dragster with vestigial coupe body in the 1960s at Vargo Raceway. The front wheels are off the ground. [Joe McNally Archive]
My thanks to Gene Zandomenego and Vinnie of Staten Island, NY who invited me to go with them to the 2009 Vargo event. Their generosity to include me is appreciated.

Staten Island Vinnie, who escorted Mike McCabe to the Vargo Raceway reunion in 2009. [Mike McCabe]
From the 2009 reunion: all is aflame! [Mike McCabe]
Red is the color of energy and passion... and hot cars. [Mike McCabe]
Cool Chevy Bel Air with stacks. [Mike McCabe]
In the field...a double-engined rail dragster with history at Vargo Raceway, and a '67 Corvette Stingray. [Mike McCabe]
From 'Drag News', a rail dragster taking off from the start line at Vargo Raceway. [Drag News]
 

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

by Michael McCabe

'Big Daddy' LeBlanc and Staten Island Racing

For New Yorkers who drive, being hopelessly stuck in rush hour traffic is a part of everyone’s nightmare dreamscape, drivers aggressively competing for position through the dense gridlock on city streets.  Even non-driving residents of The City have an (understandable) love/hate relationship with cars.[1]  It’s hard to imagine, then, that New York City had its own NASCAR sanctioned stock car track, Weissglass Speedway on Staten Island, from 1953 to 1972. George ‘Big Daddy’ LeBlanc (1947-2023)[2] built and wrenched his own stock car, raced at the track in his youth, and with the track’s closing became the raceway’s historian. Without George’s dedication to collecting stock cars, track ephemera and the histories of cars and drivers, there is a good chance Weissglass Speedway's obscure story would have faded from view.

George 'Big Daddy' LeBlanc with his flathead stock car - painted by himself - at Weissglass Speedway in 1969. [George LeBlanc]
Staten Island was consolidated into New York City in 1888 as the Borough of Richmond, and was formally named Staten Island in 1975. Life there is rural/suburban, and the local culture is individualist. Some say that Staten Island natives speak with a distinct inflection, and those who live there consider theirs the 'Forgotten Borough’. Staten Island has a very open landscape, and a large parcel of the island was owned by the Weissglass family dairy that supplied milk for Staten Island and the city.  The flat and open terrain sparked the imagination of promoter/developers, who built a racetrack on the property. Post-WWII America was nurtured by a new, expanding, automobile-based infrastructure, that ended up reshaping the culture as a whole. George LeBlanc lived on Staten Island near the new track, and in his early teens was drawn to the hand-lettering he saw on the stock cars. On race days he made his way into the pit area where he studied the various paint styles. At home, he practiced brush lettering techniques, and offered his paint skills for free to car owners, as a way to gain access to secret garage spaces.

George LeBlanc with a survivor 1930s Staten Island stock car racer at his private museum. [Mike McCabe]
"My interest in hand-painted lettering and pinstriping was sparked at a very young age by the stock cars at Weissglass Stadium." George said. "It was something that I noticed the first time I attended the races, that some of the cars were professionally lettered by a sign painter and some were not.  My attention was drawn to the nicely lettered cars.  During my teenage years I started lettering stock cars for free just to acquire the skills to do hand lettering.  This also was my ticket into everybody's garage and I was able to be around the cars and go into the pits on Saturday nights."

Wheel-to-wheel action on the 1/5 mile Weissglass Speedway on Staten Island, with George's car in front, and the vintage sedan (#56) surely the same as the car seen decades later (above) at his private museum. [George LeBlanc]
The small 1/5 mile oval Weissglass track had no straight-aways. The car engines were simple flathead 6-cylinders, with no overhead valve mechanics. Cars raced in a continuous oval, tire to tire, in a noisy competition that rarely exceeded 65 mph. NASCAR had strict rules about driver and car registration that a few drivers sidestepped by racing under alias names at other area tracks, and these rules reinforced a 'local' feel to the Weissglass track. Drivers developed local reputations and rivalries, pit crews were often family members (including women) and the home-spun nature of the races encouraged homemade pit crew uniforms; some crews wore outfits color-matched to their cars, with special derby hats. The atmosphere at Weissglass split the difference between a townie summer carnival and a loosely supervised, death defying, multi-player car accident.[3]

Victory! A stripped down Ford flathead coupe in the 1960s at Weissglass Speedway. [George LeBlanc]
George lived on the Staten Island property on which he'd been born and raised. There were several out-buildings where he collected and stored Weissglass racecars and track ephemera, as a kind of personal museum. His enthusiasm for Weissglass history was available for anyone who wanted to stop by and learn about the racetrack, and his openness has served to preserve the story. George remembers[4]: "From 1953 until 1972 stock car races were held weekly from May until October at the 1/5th mile asphalt racetrack here on Staten Island.  The local dairy, owned by the Weissglass family, sponsored the track upon its opening.  The first three years of operation were NASCAR sanctioned and beginning in 1956 the races were held under promoter Gabe Rispoli's own Hollywood style stock car racing club.  The track was unique in the fact that it had no real straightaways and was one constant sweeping turn.  It became nicknamed 'The Flying Saucer' by some of the early drivers because of this."

One of George LeBlanc's museum cars, driven by Howie Brown, with the engine tuned by 'Gus'.  Note the nerf bars in place of running boards, to keep cars from tangling too badly, and the flathead V-8 with twin carburetors. [Mike McCabe]
"The track's first champion in 1953 was Frankie Schneider. Other drivers who achieved notoriety at the track included Howie Brown, Jake Goodski, Bruno Brackey, Tiny Milano, Red Hammersly, Sonny Mims, George Kaufman, Earl Elzer, Norman Tryde, Dennis Dibrizzi, Buddy Laureno, Jerry Dunklemen, Al  Lucky, Jack Duffy, Jack Zakian, Jim Long, Johnny Popick, Johnny Lee, Doggie Hewitt, Cliff Ryerson, Lou Bonin, Joe Urciuoli, Bobby Doyle, Dick Hirsh, Les Carajat and a host of other local stars.  Under the NASCAR sanction, which were drivers from New Jersey, promoter Rispoli started a Staten Island Division to build local interest and held a special NASCAR vs Staten Island drivers race at the end of the night, which was very popular with Staten Islanders. The track enjoyed packed grandstands and quality cars and drivers into the early 60's.  In 1966 the top division drivers held a strike and left.  The promoter moved up one of the lower divisions to fill the void but the racing never really recovered leading to smaller crowds and poorer fields of cars."

Hell Drivers were touring stunt driver groups who performed at local race tracks. There were many so named, and typically included jumps and breaking through burning walls etc as part of a thrilling show. [George LeBlanc]
"George Kaufman is the all-time feature winner with 45 feature wins.  Howie Brown is second with 20.  Every kid's favorite had to be Tiny Milano with his sharp looking cars and whitewall tires that always were spotless at the beginning of the night.  Pit crews competed for best uniforms in those days also with probably Doggie Hewitt's crew being the most unique as they all wore derbies and had matching red shirts.  One of the most spectacular accidents in the history of the track had to be the time that Dick Hirsch hung his 40 Ford sedan, #227, in the catch fence, nearly getting into the grandstands.  The car was left there for the remainder of the night's show and removed the following morning with a crane."

An aerial view of Staten Island showing the location of Weissglass Speedway . [George LeBlanc]
"Cars from Freeport Stadium invaded quite regularly and ran very well, sometimes winning the feature.  Freeport regulars included Bruno Brackey, Cliff Ryerson and Lou Campa. There were two special 75-lap extra distance races held every season up until around 1967.  The first of these races was referred to as the 'Mid-Season Championship', unless a local business sponsored the race by paying for the trophy.  In this case the race was referred to as the 'Gold Seal 75', (Weissglass Dairies Brand name for their milk), or the 'Bardahl Sweepstakes' (Bardahl Oil Additive was a major sponsor of the track) or the 'Parrish Cup' (Monte Parrish owned a big hardware store near the track).  The other long distance event was the 75-lap Langhorne qualifier.  Every October there was a 100-lap race held at mile-long Langhorne Speedway in Langhorne Pennsylvania called the 'Race of Champions'.  The starting field was made up of winners of these qualifying races throughout tracks in the north and southeast.  This was a prestigious event and Weissglass Speedway was represented by such drivers as Howie Brown, Jake Goodski, Al Lucky, Lou Bonin and several others.  Howie Brown was able to have a top 10 finish in this race on one occasion.  Eventually, the extra distance races were reduced to 50-lap and finally 35-lap as the cars were unable to complete the extra distance."

Another car raced by George LeBlanc, with his hand-lettered signage advertising his day job, a hobby shop. [Mike McCabe]
"Upon Howie Brown's untimely demise in 1967, promoter Rispoli held a memorial race for him every season until the track closed.  Carl 'Pop' Carlson, a local engine builder, also had a memorial race in his honor when he passed away.  Promoter Rispoli tried to limit the cars to flathead V-8s and 6-cylinders as long as he could but finally in 1966 he allowed overhead valve V-8 engines in the cars.  This change made the cars almost too fast for the tiny track and with the wider tires needed, side by side racing became more difficult.  Track records for a 10-lap heat and a 25-lap main event were established by Jake Goodski in the 1960 & 61 seasons and were never broken.  One reason for this is that non-stop caution-free races became non-existent after the 1965 season.  A non-stop 25-lap feature was over in about 5 1/2 minutes indicating an average speed of about 65 miles per hour.  The site of the racetrack today is a garbage strewn field with no traces whatsoever of the racetrack being there."

George LeBlanc with an even more highly modified racer, that started out as a coupe, but is moving towards a totally custom racer. [George LeBlanc]
The photos from Weissglass Speedway are a unique window into the grass-roots culture of fast cars and a largely unregulated thrill of going fast.  To several generations of Americans, that simplicity felt a whole lot like freedom.

Will Cagle in his modified 1930s stock car. [George LeBlanc]
[1] Believe it or not New York is one of the world's most sustainable cities. Unlike other parts of America, New York City's transportation system produces fewer greenhouse gasses than the buildings. Most of the transportation is via mass transit or by foot. Today, the 8.336 million residents of New York City only own about two-million cars.

[2] The expression 'Big Daddy' is traced to North American English, informal slang: ​a man who is powerful, important or rich, or all of these. He is usually a man who acts like a father to people who work for him or depend on him. In downtown Manhattan 1940s-50s Bohemian/Beatnik coffee house culture, the man in charge of making the coffee was called the 'Big Daddy'. The Beatnik use of the term was picked up by car and motorcycle culture Bohemians in the 1950s, like 'Big Daddy' Don Garlits and Ed 'Big Daddy' Roth.

[3] 1960s footage of racing at Weissglass Speedway- Youtube Weissglass Speedway-  Staten Island, NY  kingdezign

[4] From: A Little Background on Weissglass… from George LeBlanc, www.weissglassspeedway.com

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

by Michael McCabe

The Iron Triangle, NYC

The 1980s saw the beginnings of a new economic process for places like New York City.  Old, neglected, and crumbling post-industrial neighborhoods, where people had found cheap rent refuge from the 1940s through the 1970s, suddenly saw an influx of capital, otherwise known as gentrification.  In short order, affordable living and working spaces were renovated and became astronomically expensive, and a way of life was eliminated.

Drivers cruise the slow, unpaved streets of the Iron Triangle, shopping for parts. The giant Pepsi-Cola sign demarcates one border of the neighborhood: Citi Field. [Mike McCabe]
A few areas in the city resisted upscale transformation, because they were isolated from access to public transportation, dangerous, had no sewer lines, or were in old industrial zoning classifications. Willets Point in the borough of Queens survives today as such a place; it’s a watch-your-back, NOYFB (None Of Your Fucking Business) economic borderland on the downside of automobile retail culture. In recent years the area has picked up a nickname, The Iron Triangle, that describes the 75 acre, 13 block triangular intersection of 126th Street and Willets Point Boulevard, home to an under-the-radar scene that boasts just 10 permanent residents, who have somehow figured out how to reside there. There are no paved streets, just dirt access roads (that flood after a rain storm) where ramshackle garages house around 200 off-the-grid discount auto repair, muffler, rim, and tire businesses that employ a fluctuating average of 1200 daily workers.

Right back at you: a shot of Willets Point, The Iron Triangle, from Citi Field. [Jim Henderson via Wikipedia]
Most people who own cars in the five boroughs of NYC are familiar with the low-cost parts and repair options offered by Iron Triangle businesses.  But the rough, masculine, and dangerous vibe requires a sense of bravado to actually visit. Customers' cars move slowly along the uneven, washed-out lanes as drivers rubber-neck at the neatly stacked pyramids of aluminum wheels and hanging muffler pipes glistening in the sun. Workers use subtle hand gestures to point out large, clumsily painted signs that simply read TIRES, RIMS and MUFFLERS to guide customers into a shop. Middle-aged women push carts between the cars and shops selling home cooked empanadas, wearing wide brim hats for both sun and identity protection. In the deeper shadows, a few sex workers try their luck.

The tin shacks were built decades ago with no permits, when nobody was looking, but land in NYC is valuable, and the Iron Triangle is a doomed 'temporary autonomous zone.' [Mike McCabe]
In the early 20th century, Willets Point was a barren, anonymous fly ash dump (a byproduct of coal burning), possibly the very locale described by F. Scott Fitzgerald in The Great Gatsby as the 'valley of ashes':

"About half way between West Egg and New York the motor road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. This is a valley of ashes — a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air."

By the 1930s the area segued to become the final resting place for smashed cars and other hard-edged industrial refuse. Slowly, impromptu fix-it shops appeared, clustering around economic possibility. Word got out and a reputation took shape. City government noticed them during the early 1970s, and wondered what to do. Was any of this licensed? A push and pull contest between NYC government, property owners, business owners, sports stadium developers, affordable housing advocates and real estate carnivores tumbled through the courts for decades. Redevelopment plans included a mall, a hotel, parking lots, a school and parks. Under the threat of eminent domain, many businesses have already been razed, evicted, or relocated. Streets have been closed and the remaining businesses have lost customers. A final solution was approved by city government in 2018, but the Covid pandemic put everything on hold.

Wheels and tires...if you've bought them for your car, you know it's a big expense. The source of these wheels is suspect, so buying here requires a suspension of moral belief. [Mike McCabe]
The ‘thickness’ of New York City’s social and economic landscape provides cover for undeclared, marginal situations. The scale of the city makes it impossible for the Man to keep an eye on everything, and in that space of permission-less freedom, the dynamism of the city nurtures growth in unpredictable and creative ways. The marginal economy of the Iron triangle survived in the vacuum of indecision, and continues to provide a much needed, budget-sensitive option for willing car owners. For over a decade, starting under Mayor Bloomberg, much-contested and renegotiated plans have been in the works to redevelop the Iron Triangle. Today, the fate of the Iron Triangle remains a mystery.

Not much space for a wrecking yard in other parts of NYC, but these provide a very useful and economical source of used parts for working-class mechanics. [Mike McCabe]
Heavy industry and freight hauling live here too. This shop was the source of Senator Dianne Feinstein's significant family wealth. Just kidding. [Mike McCabe]
Who are the owners and customers of Iron Triangle businesses? Clearly not denizens of the Upper East Side, nor the hipsters of nearby Williamsburg/Ridgewood in Brooklyn. It's the working-class and recent immigrants, mostly. [Mike McCabe]
 

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

by Michael McCabe

On Old Streets: The Motorcycles of Rhodes

Walking along the medieval streets of the storied town of Rhodes, Greece, the ancient and modern coexist in glaring contrast.  Scattered at the feet of the 14th century Gothic gates of the Palace of the Grand Master are hundreds of sleek motorcycles.  Inside the gates, behind time-worn limestone city fortifications, dozens more bikes owned by residents and workers sit in quiet corners of the cobblestone alleyways. A few years ago, Greece topped Italy and Switzerland to become the number one European Union country for motorcycle ownership. A gentle climate, a demographic skewed towards youth, and affordability have all fed the trend. Since 2014, Greek motorcycle ownership increased 0.5% year on year, with 150.24 Units per thousand persons. In 2019, the country was ranked number one compared to other EU countries in motorcycle ownership; Italy, Switzerland and Spain respectively ranked number 2, 3 and 4. The Motorcycles market in Greece is projected to generate a revenue of US$734.3M in 2024, and the BMW Motorrad is expected to have the highest market share there in 2024.

Motorcycles parked at the 14th Century Palace of the Grand Master in Rhodes, Greece [Mike McCabe]
Rhodes is the fourth-largest Greek Island, measuring 49 miles long and 24 miles wide. There are more than 14 motorcycle and step-through dealerships that support an active local and tourist two-wheeled riding community. Several well-organized mototourist companies provide historical and pleasure-riding itineraries around the island. On the downside, in the rest of the European Union, fatal accidents involving motorbikes make up just 17.7 percent of all road deaths, whereas in Greece the percentage is close to 40 percent, making Greece one of the most dangerous countries in the EU for motorcyclists. Young, inexperienced riders not wearing helmets account for the high numbers.

A custom chopper parked in front of the Islamic Library in Old Rhodes Town. [Mike McCabe]
Because of its strategic location, the small island of Rhodes has experienced a lot of history: the assortment of conventional and step-through motorcycles parked on the streets of the UNESCO World Heritage site of Old Rhodes Town serve as contrasting visual reminders of constant cultural, historical and strategic movements in the Mediterranean/Aegean region. The still legendary Colossus of Rhodes, one of the original Seven Wonders of the World, took 12 years to build between 294 and 282 BC. The 100-foot tall bronze statue is said to have stood at the entrance to Rhodes harbor but collapsed during a 225 BC earthquake.  The statue debris sat until 654 AD when it was cut up and hauled away by attacking Arab forces who melted the bronze down and refashioned it into swords and coins. No evidence of the statue has survived beyond the legend.

Scooters make up the majority of two-wheelers on Rhodes, and are very convenient for the ancient narrow cobblestone alleys. [Mike McCabe]
The motorcycles of Rhodes Town roam the streets of the oldest inhabited medieval town in Europe, where 6000 people live and work in the same buildings the Knights of St. John lived, six centuries ago. The Order of Knights of the Hospital of Saint John - commonly known as the Knights Hospitaller - was a medieval Catholic military order formed in the 11th century, with roots as a religious order located in Jerusalem. Their primary objective was to look after the welfare of wounded crusaders and religious pilgrims.  When the Knights of Saint John were defeated in Jerusalem, then Cyprus, they came to Rhodes in the year 1309, built the impressive walled fortress/town, and controlled the strategic island for 200 years. There were approximately 7000 knights from several European areas that were classified by their ‘tongues’ (languages) and lived in ‘tongue-based’ dormitories along the Street of the Knights. Even today, the French consulate maintains an active ‘French tongue inn’ on the Street of the Knights that dates to 1492. Construction of the medieval Hospital of the Knights of Saint John started in 1440 and was completed in 1489. Today, the impressive Archaeological Museum of Rhodes is housed in the remains of the hospital building and contains artifacts and historical collections from different parts of Rhodes and the neighboring islands.

Byzantine art in the Rhodes Byzantine museum. [Mike McCabe]
The Turkish mainland is just 17 miles from Rhodes, and during the 1400s, Ottoman Sultans attempted to overthrow the Knights several times. In 1522 Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent arrived with 400 ships and over 100,000 troops to finally conquered the Knights, who numbered only 7000. After seven years of wandering stateless, Pope Clement VII negotiated for a permanent home on Malta for the Knights, where they became known as the Knights of Malta.

The new knights of Malta? Bikes parked by the old fortress/city walls in Rhodes. [Mike McCabe]
The motorcycles parked inside and around the historic walls of the Palace of the Grand Master look out of sync, but are actually part of a long historical process. During the Roman Republican period, (510-31 BC) the Empire conquered the Greek city-states - including Rhodes in 146 BC - and incorporated them into the rapidly expanding Roman Empire. Imperial Rome dates from 31BC to 476 AD and became almost as big as the USA is today, stretching from the administrative city of Rome in the west to what was Constantinople in the east. The eastern Roman/Byzantine Empire literally butted against the massive Ottoman Anatolian peninsula and Asia.

Inside the oldest active mosque, the Ibrahim Pasha Mosque built in 1540. [Mike McCabe]
The Romans constructed and utilized an unprecedented network of roads to facilitate the efficient movement of goods, services and information. However, the scale of the expanding Roman Empire became untenable and the empire split into west and east in 395 AD. The Byzantine Empire emerged and ruled most of Eastern and Southern Europe throughout the Middle Ages. Its capital city, Constantinople, was the largest and wealthiest city in Europe during the time. The Byzantine Empire, also referred to as the Eastern Roman Empire, developed its own form of iconography, based Eastern Orthodox Christianity, that survives today in the churches of Rhodes.

The entrance to a 17th Century sea captain's house in Old Rhodes. [Mike McCabe]
The Western Roman Empire finally collapsed during the 5th century AD, but the Byzantine Empire continued as a powerful administrative, maritime and mercantile economic power until 1453, when it finally succumbed to Ottoman Turk attacks, and Constantinople was renamed Istanbul. Byzantine art has a quality of magical religiosity, with static figures depicted in archaic styles surrounded by rich colors and ethereal gold leaf, that looks strangely naïve compared to the preceding Greek and Roman classical art styles. During the Byzantine era the Orthodox church controlled the purse strings of art patronage, and it would take the Renaissance to rediscover the naturalism of classical Greek and Roman artistic expression.

Cobblestone streets and two wheels; uneasy riding partners, but the only way to travel. [Mike McCabe]
Places like Rhodes represent the fluid mixing of history and culture that usually unfolds in border regions. The culture of Rhodes is still heavily influenced by Ottoman/Turkish culture and there is a Turkish Muslim minority of 3500 people who are descendants of the Ottoman times (as they will tell you, they are Greek 'only by their passports').  There are seven historic mosques with minarets that include the first and still active Ibrahim Pasha mosque that dates to 1522 where prayer is still called inside the mosque five times a day. Restaurants located in the Hora Muslim section of central Rhodes Old Town serve Turkish-influenced food and musicians (who ride to work on motorcycles), sing traditional Ottoman folk songs late into the night.

A rare c.1931 BMW R11 parked in Rhodes Old Town on the Street of the Knights. [Mike McCabe]

 

Michael McCabe is a New York City tattoo artist and cultural anthropologist. He is the author of New York City Horsepower, Kustom Japan, New York City Tattoo, Japanese Tattooing Now, Tattoos of Indochina, and Tattooing New York City. For New York City Horsepower, Mr. McCabe spent two years discovering and documenting underground custom motorcycle and car garages in the City, as rapid gentrification put their culture under tremendous pressure. He interviewed and photographed New York City customizers about their personal histories and creative sensibilities. More of Mike's articles for The Vintagent can be found here.

by Michael McCabe