[alfa] In defense of not wrecking it-

["John Hertzman" <johnhertzman@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

It is hard to dispute the perennial argument that historic cars should be risked, because they were originally intended to be. Or, more briefly, who cares? As Brian says, "most of the cars that are being thrashed about are mostly non-original in the first place.  So hammering a new panel to replace a panel that is not original, what's the big deal?" To which I would add that most of the cars shown at major concours, and most of the cars shown in museums, are also mostly non-original in the first place. What's the big deal? Gilding is what lilies are for, even if the lily is a wax replica. Real lilies wilt, and who needs that?
 
Case in point. The 6C 3000 CM, one of the all-time great Alfas, much rarer than a Monza or an 8C 2900 or an Alfetta 158/159, was built in a hurry on a shoestring with quick-and-dirty competition bodies by Colli. Pretty wasn't what they were about. Detailing? Fugeddit. After their one season of racing was over at least half of them were rebodied, at least a third of them as platforms for coachbuilders' show-car styling exercises  'concept cars', in today's terms. One of them, rebodied by Boano, was later given to Juan Peron, and after passing through the hands of one or two other owners was bought by Henry Wessells III, the second he owned of the six built. (Had some other nice Alfas, too  a 1500 Testa Fissa, a 33 Stradale, things like that.) Unfortunately he terminally folded, spindled, and mutilated the Boano 6C 3000 CM in a vintage race; fortunately he survived. There was just enough left of the 6C chassis to form the basis of a rebuild, but of what? The luxurious Boano body, while striking, was out of character with the original intent of the chassis, and the original body had been junked long ago. In the end Wessells had a very competent Italian pannelbeater, working from photographs, build a new body based on the general form of the Colli original, but not a replica; a blind person could have felt the difference instantly between the high level of craftsmanship of the new body and the crude make-do of the original, and the forms were subtly refined. Faithful forgeries are never easy, even when intended, and it is not easy to resist the impulse to improve. Arguably the new body is about what the original probably would have been, if there had been no limits on the time and money available fifty years ago, and if the builder had had today's tastes. Probably many of the people who see it at vintage events today think that is what the car was like when it was built.
 
It may not matter; there aren't many people who would think that it does. There are a very few skilled restorers (and far fewer owners) who will go to great lengths (and considerable expense) to approximate the relatively crude work of inexperience apprentices who were just trying to do something good enough for an expendable race car before the flag dropped.
 
Perhaps the principal consequence, which may not matter, is that many of us look at a fantasy past and think it happened. The Alfa Museum, for instance, or the Mercedes Museum, or Colonial Williamsburg, or the cathedrals of France, or most of the other artifacts which shape our understanding of the material past, are largely fictitious. Lots of stuff is. That's show biz.
 
Some years ago Hollywood did a film based on a book based on the life of Michelangelo. Part of the narrative involved his painting of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo had been a real person, and the Sistine Chapel is a real place, the fresco he did there is considered (by some) to be a major work of art, but it wasn't impressive enough for show-biz purposes; the "replica" set was enlarged ten percent over the original and the colors brightened. Don't remember who they had playing Michelangelo, but it was somebody like Charlton Heston, bigger, handsomer, and more dramatic than the original person. So millions of us have seen the story, in all its glory; what's wrong with that?
 
Nobody needs me to tell you to enjoy yours; you will. Me? I can enjoy seeing what can be done today, and I can equally enjoy seeing what traces are left of what was done in the past. It is hard to see them, sometimes, through the frosting, but some think that the actual past and the present are counterpoints in a continuum, each illuminating the other to make a more interesting whole. Others, obviously, will disagree. None of us are likely to persuade, or be persuaded. Little is likely to change; the restorers will prosper, the collectors will play Fangio, the spectators will get their rush, and the past will get a little harder to understand. Always has, always will.
 
Cheers
 
John H.
--
to be removed from alfa, see /bin/digest-subs.cgi
or email "unsubscribe alfa" to majordomo@domain.elided