Most called HSV’s first car the Walkinshaw, the Batmobile, the Plastic Pig but, until now, never the TWR Holden…

Ground zero: the first ‘HSV’ VL Group A SS of 1988. But who designed it? Photo courtesy of HSV

I knew I was onto something big when I called Crenno and he said: “I don’t know.” 

The saga started when a publisher commissioned me to write three chapters for a Holden Special Vehicles book. Could I cover styling and design, clay modelling, and concept cars?

You bet I could. 

I began my research and mapped out every HSV model, then assigned a stylist to each one. I came up with Ian Callum (HSV designer from 1990 to 1998), Nel Simpson (1990 to 2003), Julian Quincey (from 2003), and Adam Dean Smith (2006 to 2010).

Many statement cars sat alongside their names: the VP Senator (1991), VS GTS-R (1996), VT ClubSport (1997), VX Maloo R8 (2000), VY Coupe GTS (2002), VZ Coupe4 (2004), E Series W427 (2006), E Series 2 GTS (2009), GEN-F GTS Maloo (2013), and sundry specials, concepts and limited edition models.    

There were some misses, too: the Nissan Pulsar/Holden Astra-based SV1800 ‘Baby Walky’ hatches and sedans (1988); the Holden Jackaroo SUV ‘by HSV’ (1993); the VSII Manta wagon (1996); and the Opel-enhanced, HSV badged, Astra E Series VXR (2007).

So, I had my master list, but one car didn’t fit: the 1988 Holden VL Commodore SS Group A SV.  

The Walkinshaw, the Batmobile, the Plastic Pig; call it what you will. This car set the tone for Holden Special Vehicles. It draws eyeballs, too. Love it or loathe it, no one can ignore the be-winged beast and every car designer who ever lived dreams of achieving that.  

But who designed the Walkinshaw?

I asked Ian Callum. He didn’t design it and didn’t know who did. I questioned each HSV designer. They had theories but no answers. I probed every Holden Special Vehicles boffin I could find but ended up with a big, fat blank. So, when I called HSV founding boss and marketing guru, John Crennan and posed the question to him and even he didn’t know, I realised I had to solve this Australian automotive mystery myself. 

I dusted off my deerstalker hat, polished my magnifying glass and conducted some old-fashioned detective work and, like Sherlock Holmes, developed a hypothesis. I tried it out on Callum and Crenno and they said, “You might be onto something, old chum.”

Okay, maybe they didn’t say that, but they agreed the name sounded right.

So, I did it. I got in touch with my mystery man, shone a high voltage light beam into his eyeballs, pressed my finger on his chest and demanded he answer the hard question: “Did you pen the Walkinshaw?”    

He caved. 

“I designed the Commodore for Tom [Walkinshaw] during 1987,” said Peter Stevens.

An early design sketch for the SS Group A by Peter Stevens while working freelance for Tom Walkinshaw’s TWR. Image courtesy of Peter Stevens Design

Peter Stevens, the British-born designer of the McLaren F1, Jaguar XJR-15, Le Mans-winning BMW V12 LMR, and many other memorable cars. Peter Stevens, design legend, styled the first ‘HSV’.

Now, although the VL Commodore SS Group A didn’t wear HSV badges – Holden wanted to homologate the sedan for racing – the Panorama Silver beast is ground zero, model number one, in the Holden Special Vehicles history book. The car’s butch add-ons included a bonnet bulge and look-at-me boot spoiler, along with pumped-up side-skirts and bumpers. Not to everyone’s taste, for sure, but the kit served a purpose, and the car came about like this...

Holden appointed Tom Walkinshaw in 1987 to head its new go-fast division – which became Holden Special Vehicles – in the wake of the Peter Brock fallout. Walkinshaw later recruited Holden executive John Crennan as HSV’s first managing director and, although they often butted heads, the partnership thrived, and this brought about some of Australia’s most desirable home-grown cars.

Crennan recalled seeing the Group A’s lines for the first time in mid-1987.

“I was with Tom [Walkinshaw] at the Regent Hotel (in Melbourne), and, on a napkin, he sketched out the Group A. He had clear ideas about the aerodynamics for the car,” Crennan told me.

Walkinshaw took the napkin back to Kidlington, in the UK, and built the first of a legendary series of HSV cars.

The Tom Walkinshaw Racing founder planned to create subsidiary consultancy, TWR Design with legendary pen-man Peter Stevens. This never eventuated, but Stevens, working freelance, styled the first HSV, the VL Group A, for Walkinshaw and they always called it the TWR Holden.  

“Tom and I put together the idea for TWR Design in the mid 1980s, although I was still working as a consultant. I had worked on the Rover 3500 Group A cars, the 5 Series BMWs, the Spa 24-Hour winning Mazda RX-7s and, of course, the Jaguar-Sport XJR-15,” said Stevens.

In fairness to Crennan – and journalist Paul Gover who wrote about the Group A’s design in an issue of Australian Muscle Car – when I mentioned Peter Stevens might be our mystery stylist, Crennan recalled the Regent Hotel meeting with Walkinshaw and added, “He may have given that (sketch on the serviette) to Peter Stevens, I don’t know. I know he worked with Tom, so he could have done the design.”

Tantalising, but hardly convincing. Every court in the land would throw that reminiscence out if offered as ‘proof’. I had to hear the story first-hand. 

“I always used to say of Tom that ‘No one got up earlier than Tom Walkinshaw’,” said Peter Stevens.

Walkinshaw pegged the VL Commodore as an ideal base for international Group A racing. Holden also wanted – and needed – to build a limited run of road cars. Walkinshaw briefed Stevens and showed him the donor car but, as always, looked for a competitive edge. 

“He always liked to be ahead of the game. He would spend hours looking at the class or series rules with a magnifying glass,” said Stevens. 

Walkinshaw became famous – or infamous – for finding advantages between the lines of the rule book.

The infamous ‘coffee table’ rear deck that later became the SS Group A car’s most distinctive feature. Photo courtesy of Peter Stevens Design

“He and I [read] the Australian Group A ‘regs’ and noticed both the rear screen and boot lid were described as being ‘free’,” said Stevens.

“What this was supposed to mean was the rear glass screen could be replaced by a Plexiglas screen, and the steel rear deck ‘boot lid’ could be replaced by a fiberglass panel. What it did not say was that either component had to be the same shape as the original.”

Stevens knew from previous wind tunnel work that if TWR cranked the angle of the upright rear glass to a flatter slope, more air would reach the deck lid, particularly if he raised the rear deck surface.  

“Separate deck mounted rear wings were not allowed, but a deck mounted spoiler was, thus I could raise up the rear surface to such a height that the spoiler became a very effective drag reducing, but also lift reducing, element.  

“After I had established the rear-end design, I could then add a front lower splitter to appreciably cut front lift and reduce drag. The side sills also cut both lift and drag. This all added considerable performance to the race cars, looked aggressively tough, and caused TWR to build a small run of road cars. Tom was always up for making a buck.” 

In December 1987, inspectors from the Federation Internationale du Sport Automobile (FISA) – the international motorsport governing body until the FIA took over in 1993 – refused to homologate the TWR Holden, disputing the legality of the panel covering the ‘sixth window’, just in front of the C-pillar. One can imagine Walkinshaw stepped up to the FISA boffin and, in his best Scottish brogue, said: “What ya talking about, laddie? Of course she’s legal. Look at her. She’s a work of art, she is.” 

The car passed scrutineering.

So, British designed – in Britain – but an Australian design legend made an important contribution to the early race cars.

“Mike Simcoe was responsible for the great-looking Holden Racing Team graphics,” said Stevens.

“When he came over to the UK to see the first car, he was a bit blown away by how outrageous it looked and threw himself into the black, red and white livery.”

Holden designer Mike Simcoe conceived the Group A Holden’s distinctive livery. Photo courtesy of Peter Stevens Design

Tom Walkinshaw recalled Holden “wanted to have a Group A car and the shape of the car at the time; it would lift at the rear. So, the only way we could get around it in the wind tunnel; we had to keep lifting it at the boot and it got higher and higher and higher until we had this huge tray on the rear, and we had to figure out how on earth you could actually style that into the rest of the car.

“So, we took the rule book and made everything the maximum dimension we could, and the car ended up the way it ended up.”

HSV had a problem, though. The fiberglass kit weighed 65kg.

“If it had any more fiberglass on it, it would have fallen over,” said Tom Walkinshaw.

The body kits proved a major challenge on the HSV factory line in Victoria, as well. 

Holden provided the donor cars and HSV fitted Peter Stevens’ body kit. HSV representatives sourced local suppliers for the fiberglass parts and first approached Bolwell, experts in fiberglass production – think Ronald McDonald statues, playground equipment and classic Aussie cars – but the company knocked back the commission.

Eventually, three or four suppliers produced and delivered the unpainted fiberglass sections, but the panels became a nightmare for the fledgling company and the estimated unit cost skyrocketed.

Holden provided a base VL Commodore, which HSV staff used to finesse the body kit. The new expert fiberglass recruits, under the watchful eye of race-ace John Harvey, then took moulds for the individual pieces from the ‘formed-up’ car. They had a problem, though, which Harvey traced back to the source.

Minor build variations in the Holden donor vehicles – the last cars built at GM-H’s Dandenong factory – proved troublesome when fitting the skirts, so HSV had to fit them in two parts.  

Holden Special Vehicles factory staff also discovered that, while a panel might fit on one car, it would not fit on another and, with 750 vehicles passing through the Clayton facility, this became a colossal quality control headache.

Stevens designed the fiberglass body kit to ‘manage’ airflow around, through and under the car. HSV claimed tests in the Motor Industry Research Association (MIRA) wind tunnel in Warwickshire, UK, revealed the body kit reduced drag by 25 per cent over the previous Holden Dealer Team VK Group A car, with gains in high-speed downforce. In fact, Stevens’ design achieved a drag coefficient of 0.314, better than the much-hyped Jaguar XJ 220 (0.337).  

Launched in 1988, the Group A’s body kit comprised 26 separate fiberglass pieces. Transforming the Holden base car with the kit, including tooling, painting and fitting, and rectification work, cost $6847 per unit. Holden priced the Walkinshaw at $45,500 (without options and before on-road costs), $13,500 more than a Calais Turbo. 

Holden had to build 500 units to score FISA homologation. At some point, HSV executives and their appointed dealers got a little too optimistic and commissioned a further 250 cars. The first 500 cars sold quickly, but many of the remaining 250 overstayed their welcome in dealerships.

Resting on five-spoke 16-inch alloy wheels and 205/55 VR16 Bridgestone tyres, the TWR Holden looked tough as nails, but the styling did not convince everyone.

It’s said Holden executives didn’t much like the Group A car’s design, to which Walkinshaw retorted: “You want to win motor races, don’t you?” The Red Lion’s white collar brigade said of course they did, and the most distinctive HSV ever made became well-remembered and collectable. 

Compare the Walkinshaw to the pinstriped SV88 from the same era. That car didn’t stand out from the crowd, and few recall it. There are other forgotten cars; vehicles that have followers, but which aren’t heroes of HSV’s back catalogue.  

Why? Design, that’s why.

And Peter Stevens designed the hell out of the TWR Holden.

The finished VL Group A ‘TWR Holden’ stayed faithful to Peter Stevens’ design sketches. Image courtesy of Peter Stevens Design

Holden VL Commodore SS Group A SV 

Engine: Fuel injected 4987cc Group A Holden V8; 178kW/370Nm

Transmission: Five-speed manual 

Wheels: 16-inch alloy

Tyres: Bridgestone 205/55 VR16

Brakes: Ventilated discs (front); discs (rear) 

Top speed: 235km/h 

Stevens’ aerodynamic marvels

Stylists concern themselves not only with svelte lines and gorgeous compound curves. To claim supercar bragging rights or win races, their designs must contribute to low drag and lift.

The below chart shows what Stevens accomplished with the Holden Group A Walkinshaw, a sedan that lacks a supercar’s slippery aerodynamic lines.

“We never achieved big downforce figures for the Holden,” said Stevens.

His assessment is modest. Notice how favourably the Walkinshaw’s drag coefficient compares to the low-slung Jaguar XJ220 supercar, and beats the Porsche 956 Group C, and many other vehicles in the chart.

“Most companies who claim serious downforce are talking bollocks,” said Stevens.

“Cars like the Commodore, and like the equivalent Opel cars that I developed whilst at Lotus, would tend to have around 100kg of lift at the front at 160km/h and 150kg at the rear at 160km/h.

“My aim was always to match the centre of lift to the car’s centre of gravity to produce a stable platform. That meant, with a front to rear weight distribution on the race cars usually being 55 to 60 per cent of the weight over the front wheels and 40 to 45 per cent over the rear wheels, I would be looking for something like 10 to 20kg of lift at the front and five to 15kg at the rear at 160km/h.

“Some cars’ basic form made it possible to achieve zero lift, but this was rare. This always had to be whilst achieving a reduction in drag as well,” said Stevens.

Who designed the other early cars?

 The TWR Holden remains Stevens’ only HSV design.

A major commission – one that secured the British designer’s reputation – landed on his desk and he moved on from TWR.

“When the McLaren F1 design job came up in 1989, I introduced Tom [Walkinshaw] to Ian Callum – or maybe Ian to Tom – so that there would be continuity of design input [at TWR Design]. I had previously taught Ian as an automotive student at the Royal College of Art,” said Stevens. 

“TWR Design was always a very close-knit little group. There were a couple of excellent clay modellers who we all trusted implicitly to put our thoughts into three dimensions but, when I left and then a few years later when Ian left to take up the job at Jaguar and Neil Simpson moved to Australia, [TWR Design] became more of a modelling and show car shop with a couple of young inexperienced designers and no strong leadership.

“Soon after this, the TWR group got into financial difficulties and Tom became unwell. The situation was not helped by the failure of MG-Rover, who at that time had a couple of projects with TWR. Money was owed!” said Stevens.

Asked if he designed the other Holden Special Vehicles ‘foundation’ cars – like the Nissan Pulsar/Astra-based SV1800, the Commodore-based SV88, SV3800, and the VG Maloo Utility – prior to Ian Callum’s arrival in 1990, Peter Stevens had bad news.

“I didn’t work on these cars,” he said. 

Stylists at TWR Design and Holden Design Studio most likely created the (mild) body kits on the other 1989 to 1990 vehicles, but what are their names? That’s another mystery...

Fast times: Aston Martin Competitions Secretary Gillian Stillwell broke ground for women in automotive

Gillian Harris (later Stillwell) in a works DB3S shortly after she arrived at the Aston Martin competitions department in late 1956. At this stage, she did not yet have a driving licence

In times long gone, in the English town of Staines, Lagonda built automobiles that challenged Rolls-Royce in the prestige stakes and Bentley in the sporting arena, winning Le Mans in 1935, before collapsing soon after.

These days, Staines’ best-known export is Ali G. But there is another notable ex-Staines resident who worked during the golden age of sports car racing and with some greats in Formula 1. And it all started when they glimpsed a handsome racing driver.  

Spotting the Romeo-cum-racer and determining they would follow him into motor sport is an uncommon pathway into the automotive industry but, for Gillian Stillwell, it proved true.

“I was about 17 when I went with some friends to a race meeting at Crystal Palace. I knew nothing about racing, but I enjoyed the day and was particularly impressed by the chance sighting of Peter Collins near the pit counters,” Gillian said.

“He walked by very close and I thought he was such a handsome young man. I was extremely impressed and thought I would really like to find a job that gave me access to such interesting people.” 

And so it went.

Gillian had planned to study English, French, and history at university. But, wanting to make a living for herself, she left school after achieving her Advanced Level and complete a secretarial course instead. 

“My sister Julie was living in France and, on a holiday back home, advised me to do some special secretarial training in English and French. She told me that would provide me with some tremendously interesting possibilities.”

Big sister spoke the truth.

Gillian Stillwell and Aston Martin competitions manager Reg Parnell do their best to ignore the admiring onlookers as they head to the racetrack in a works DBR1

“I did a one-year bi-lingual secretarial course at the Institut Francais du Royaume University in South Kensington. It was really hard work. I was taught Spanish in French,” Gillian said.

After completing the course, Gillian applied for a job at Standard Triumph in London. In the early ’50s, many Standard Triumphs were being sold to demobbed US soldiers who could avoid UK tax by exporting their cars to America within 12 months. This involved getting ‘carnets de passage’ – the necessary export document – which required a thorough knowledge of French. This is where Gillian came in. 

“I also did some outside business work for one of the Standard Triumph salesmen. He had started his own side business tuning cars, improving performance and conducting repairs on racing cars.”

He asked Gillian to follow him into business full time, and this she agreed to do but, at the last moment, he abandoned the idea. Feeling guilty, he told Gillian he had seen an advertisement: the David Brown Company needed a Competitions Secretary for their Aston Martin racing team. Gillian liked the idea.

“The essential qualification was for the applicant to speak French since the basic regulations were controlled by the Federation Internationale de l’Automobile (FIA).”

Interviewed by Aston Martin’s formidable Managing Director John Wyer and Team Manager Reg Parnell, they appointed Gillian to the job.

Gillian Stillwell performs pitstop duties for works driver Tony Brooks in 1957

“I began working for Aston Martin in November 1956. Their racing and service department was located on a big block of land in Feltham – a former airport. I lived not far away with my parents in Staines, so it was conveniently located. 

“My duties included communication with the racing drivers and mechanics, preparing movement schedules for the race meetings, correspondence, making reservations, writing programs and writing reports after every race. I also used to handle all the cash to pay for all the costs of the hotels, fuel and food.  

“We used to travel a lot. There were races in France, Germany, Portugal, Italy, Spain, and Sicily. Then, of course, there were all the races in the UK – Silverstone, Goodwood, Oulton Park, and Aintree.  

“Every time we raced in Europe I had had to apply for ‘carnets de passage’ for the racing cars, trucks and road cars in which we travelled. The trucks, loaded with racing cars, would go across the English Channel on a boat; we would drive down to Lympne in various types of cars, often one or two Lagonda Shooting Brakes and fly across to France with the cars in the aircraft. In 1957, we had so many race cars that one actually had to be driven on the road and then taken on the plane.” 

Gillian worked for Aston Martin during their most successful racing years, winning against Ferrari, Jaguar, and Maserati – including three victories at the Nurburgring – with Stirling Moss, Jack Brabham, and Tony Brooks amongst the drivers. In 1959, Aston Martin won its only outright Le Mans victory at the hands of Roy Salvadori and Carroll Shelby. For a small company, the win proved a mighty effort.

Gillian Stillwell watches as Aston Martin competitions manager Reg Parnell barks orders through a megaphone and Stirling Moss whispers into the ear of his DBR1 co-driver Jack Fairman at the 1959 Le Mans 24-Hour Race. Although Moss and Fairman bowed out at the six-hour mark, Aston Martin went on to outright victory with Roy Salvadori and Carroll Shelby at the wheel of a DBR1

“The RAC Tourist Trophy at Goodwood in September 1959 was a spectacular event,” remembers Gillian. “Three Aston Martins were entered, driven by Moss and Salvadori, Shelby and Jack Fairman and (Le Mans-winners) Maurice Trintignant and Paul Frere. When in the lead, the Moss/Salvadori car entered the pits for refueling after 94 laps,’ Gillian said.

“The fuel nozzle swung open as the mechanics began their work. The jet of petrol hit the hot exhaust pipe. Flames leapt over the back of the car; they flared so high that the fuel tank located above the pit exploded. Salvadori was slightly burnt. Luckily, no one else was severely injured, and the fire was extinguished.

“A few laps later, the Shelby/Fairman car was brought into the pits and Moss took over. He drove extraordinarily well, regained the lead on lap 153 and finished first. This win confirmed Aston Martin had won the 1959 World Sports Car Championship.”

Job done; the victory ended Aston Martin’s official sports car racing days. But David Brown wanted to compete in Formula 1. During 1959, the F1 team – with Shelby, Salvadori and Trintignant among the drivers – had some promising early results but the rear-engine revolution had already begun, and Aston Martin’s entries were obsolete before they even started. The foray into F1 continued into 1960, after which it Aston Martin abandoned the category.

John Wyer offered Gillian a less exciting job at the company with the advertising department, but by now racing coursed through her veins. However, Aston Martin’s Team Manager, Reg Parnell, by this time, had moved to running the Bowmaker/Yeoman Credit Formula 1 team – one of the first forays into F1 team sponsor branding rights. A talented driver and team manager, Parnell needed Gillian’s calming hand and sharp organisational skills, so he asked her to follow him over to the world of Formula 1. She agreed.

Gillian Stillwell discusses tactics with French driver Maurice Trintignant during her Formula 1 days at Yeoman Credit, Bowmaker and Reg Parnell Racing

 Working out of Hounslow and running Cooper and Lola chassis, the junior team attracted a name that would go on to greatness in the sport, 1964 Ferrari World Champion and motorcycle ace John Surtees. Later, Reg Parnell – and after his death in 1964, his son Tim – ran his own team, Reg Parnell Racing, and worked with driving luminaries such as Chris Amon, Innes Ireland, and Mike Hailwood. 

“They were tremendously exciting days travelling around the world – including New Zealand and Australia. Working with and socialising with some of the world’s greatest drivers was a tremendous thrill and honour for a young woman like myself.” 

Motor racing would soon take Gillian to other places, however.

“Not long before the 1961 Le Mans 24-hour race, I was asked by a close friend of Stirling Moss if I could act as a stewardess on a charter flight from Gatwick to Tours, near Le Mans. We arrived on race day and there were lots of people around the pits who I knew, so that was very nice.

“John Ogier had entered two Aston Martin DB4GT Zagatos – one of which was driven by the Australian drivers Bib Stillwell and Lex Davison. Unfortunately, (head gasket) problems meant their race was over after only a few hours. Anxious to get back to the UK quickly, Bib asked if he could join our flight and that’s how we met.”

Gillian’s future husband, Bib Stillwell campaigning his Aston Martin DBR4 at a wet 1962 New Zealand Grand Prix, where he finished in tenth place

Bib and Gillian married in 1965, with Jack Brabham acting as best man. But the union ended Gillian’s days in the pits. Bib wanted to live in Australia where he ran successful car dealerships – still run in his name by the family.

In the 1970s, he began distributing Learjets – Niki Lauda became a customer – and the couple moved to Tucson, Arizona in 1979, where Gillian renewed her friendship with ‘neighbour’ John Wyer. Bib became Learjet’s President the following year.

In the United States, Bib involved himself in the historic racing scene, driving his D-Type Jaguar and Ford GT40, so once again Gillian lived and breathed racing fuel. Returning to Australia in 1989, Bib continued with his motor dealerships while taking an active part in the local historic racing scene.

“Finally,” said Gillian, “I can think about what it was like to be a young woman working in a male-dominated business/sport. I think I was the only female Team Secretary who attended so many races. Very rarely did I ever experience being rejected because I was a woman in this type of business.

Gillian Stillwell at her Melbourne home in 2002. Photo by Ern matters

“I now look back and think that, because I was so totally concentrated on my work, there was hardly any time when I relaxed or took the opportunity to explore the country or city where we were located. Most of our racing was in Europe and we would drive to the various locations and I therefore saw a lot of places where I had never been before. All the people at Aston Martin, Bowmaker/Yeoman Credit and Reg Parnell Racing were very kind, very friendly and all of us worked well together.”

From sheep to shop: One man’s dream to bring Australian wool into the spotlight

Sheep graze peacefully on Floyd Legge’s farm in Cudal, New South Wales, Australia. Photo by Richard Weinstein

It’s often said a prophet is not accepted in their hometown. That’s doubly the case in Australia. This country has some of the world’s best products and produce. But they often go unrecognised in our own backyard.

Wool is one of them.

I recall a visit to Rome where I spent several enjoyable hours window shopping near the Spanish Steps. I looked in the many menswear shops on Via Condotti with their beautiful seasonal displays – magnificent suits, patterned sports coats, striped scarves.  

And there it was.

Nestled amongst an array of colourful fine knitwear, written in Texta on small white cards, were the words “Super Geelong” and “Super Tasmanian”.

The wool on these sheep’s backs become luxury suiting. Photo by Richard Weinstein

 Not “Made in Italy”. Not “Finest Cashmere”. Not even “100% Wool”.

My heart soared. The names of places from my homeland – places I knew well and had visited – writ large before me.

Merchants in Italy promote these words because their educated customers – who revere high-quality clothes – recognise and respect them. Above all, these words sell product.

Sheep are sheared of their fleece before it is processed into luxury cloth. Photo by Richard Weinstein

Super Geelong and Super Tasmanian are bywords for finest quality wool used in the most exclusive, most expensive apparel. Really, the terms mean “Australian wool”. And Australian wool is the best money can buy.

Many places around Australia produce world-class wool, of course, including Forbes, New South Wales, 500 kilometres west of Sydney. It is here something truly special is happening in the sphere of Australian wool. 

One of the unfortunate truths of Australia’s 250-year wool story is that, while our farmers produce the best – and the most – wool in the world, local industry has never geared itself up for processing this wool into the high-quality yarn or cloth used by the textiles and fashion industries.

Those superfine jumpers I lusted after in Rome may have been made from Australian wool, but they weren’t “Made in Australia”. Likewise, the woollen cloth tailored into $10,000 suits on London’s Savile Row.

It’s a missed opportunity. But there is one Australian producer determined to change that. One suiting length at a time.

Wool is natural and sustainable. Photo by Richard Weinstein

Thirty-six-year-old Floyd Legge is a sixth-generation farmer whose family wool business stretches back 150 years. Floyd and his sisters, Ruth and Isabele, run RB & JF Legge.

The Legges produce superfine merino sheep. Their young sheep’s wool is measured at around 16-to-17 microns – adult sheep are around 18 microns. The lower the number, the finer the wool and, potentially, the more valuable it may be. For comparison, human hair is around 70 microns. 

The story of Floyd’s family farming history in Australia began with the purchase of the “Alexlea” sheep and cattle farm in Dutson, near Sale, Victoria, in 1852 by Floyd’s great-great-great-grandfather, John McNaughton.

Born in Ayrshire, Scotland in 1788, John and his wife Isabella had eight children and, sometime between 1836 and 1843, migrated to Australia. Son, Alexander, took over the running of Alexlea upon John’s death in 1859.

Alexander and his wife, Mary, had 13 children. Their daughter, Isabella, married Samuel Legge in 1892. Samuel and Isabella took over the running of Alexlea and produced 11 children, one of which was Floyd’s grandfather Oswald, born in 1896.

The first man to enjoy a bespoke JH Cutler creation made from the Australian grown and processed product, Radil Arman, inspects the raw material. Photo by Richard Weinstein

After fighting in Egypt and helping liberate Villers-Bretonneux in France during World War One, Oswald returned to Australia, farming on Alexlea and shearing sheep around Victoria and as far away as Longreach, Queensland. He married in February 1922, but widowed four months later.  

After re-marrying, Oswald and new wife, Florence, bought a block of land at Nicholson, east of Bairnsdale, and drove some of the merino sheep from Alexlea to their new block.

‘They arrived expecting good pastures, only to discover all the feed had been eaten, so they drove the stock along the roadsides to feed them. They took the sheep to Florence’s father’s property, “Leaside”, in Forge Creek, for shearing,’ Floyd said.

Florence’s father eventually gave the couple 400 acres of land off the corner of Leaside. They called the parcel of land “Ridgehaven”. There they settled with the merino sheep and a handful of dairy cows. They produced one child in 1937, Floyd’s father, Ronald.

Ronald worked alongside his parents on Ridgehaven and, in 1965, he started Ridgehaven Poll Dorset Stud with the purchase of Poll Dorset Ewes. This has now grown into a significant part of the current family business.

Ronald married Jessie McRae, who grew up on a merino sheep and beef cattle farm at Buchan, Victoria. Not long after they married, they purchased Leaside.

Ronald worked in a farming partnership at Ridgehaven with his parents while also running Leaside as a separate business. Oswald died in 1978 and Florence continued to live at Ridgehaven until she died in 1985. Ronald and Jessie then took over running Ridgehaven and Leaside as one business. They had five children, four daughters – Ruth, Margaret, Isabele, and Melinda – and one son, Floyd.

The bulk of the business moved to Cudal in central-west NSW in 1993, along with the Poll Dorset Stud and Hereford cattle.

Radil Arman is his JH Cutler bespoke single-breasted suit, built from the wool provided by Floyd Legge. Photo by Richard Weinstein

‘After the sale of Leaside we were able to lease the farm back to continue running the merino flock. In 2005 we purchased a property in Forbes where we were running some sheep and cattle,’ Floyd said.

Floyd and his sisters Ruth and Isabele continued the farming partnership after their father died in 2007, running Ridgehaven Poll Dorset Stud, along with the merino flock. The siblings leased another property at Forbes in 2009 and moved the merino flock from Bairnsdale to Forbes. It’s a very different climate from eastern Victoria, but the genetics and wool type have remained the same.

Sheep are at the centre of this story. And only the best will do.

‘We run the Roseville Park bloodline. We have been buying them for at least 40 years. They are a traditionally crimped waxy wool, with white bright characteristics,’ Floyd said.

Most of Floyd’s fine wool merino goes to Europe. Brokering the deals is New England Wool, based in Australia, buyer for Reda, and the storied Vitale Barberis Canonico, established in 1663.

Floyd is a wool man through and through. But it was an overseas trip in 2018 and his impending wedding six months later that led him to become a “man of the cloth”, too.

‘I was in China on an Australian Wool Innovation Young Grower trip when I met a young Australian tailor at the airport. We got talking about both ends of the wool process and this sparked my interest in producing an Australian-made cloth,’ Floyd said.

‘I wanted to wear my own wool at my wedding. But a month out from the wedding, my suit was still a thread.’

Floyd learned that, to turn the fleece from his sheep’s backs into a world-class product worthy of the catwalks of Paris and Milan, and the finest luxury stores in New York and London, he needed the expertise and cooperation of many people.

From sheep to suit, the story is immense.

From the Legge farm the wool goes to a store in Parkes, NSW, for core testing, then it’s scoured (washed) in Geelong and carded and combed at Cashmere Connections in Bacchus Marsh, both in Victoria. By this stage, Floyd has pure new wool, with no impurities. The wool is then produced as a sliver, a rope – called “wool top”. This is air freighted to Xinao in China and prepared and spun into yarn. It returns to Geelong for dying and processing to reinstate the feel and softness lost after the dying process. Geelong Textiles weaves the wool. Geelong Dying dyes it.

And – voila! – a length of world-class 220-gram Super 140s cloth is spun and woven and immaculately presented in carefully folded rolls. But who is going to take the cloth and make clothes worthy of this material?

From stage left enters John Cutler OAM.

John is a 72-year-old bespoke tailor who operates his business, JH Cutler, from King Street in Sydney’s CBD.

His family story is equally amazing.

JH Cutler is an Australian institution. Founded in 1884, the venerable tailoring firm outdates many of the famous sartorial and fashion houses – Anderson & Sheppard (1906), Prada (1913), and Gucci (1921), to name but a few.

Fourth generation tailor, John Cutler conducts a fitting in his Sydney rooms. Photo by Richard Weinstein

The story begins in the English Midlands in the 1850s, when engineer Joseph Handel Cutler was – along with thousands of other fortune seekers – beguiled by the township of Ballarat, near Melbourne, where more gold has been found than any other place on earth. He packed up the family and shipped them to the other side of the world, finding work servicing the needs of Victorian Gold Rush prospectors.

Joseph’s oldest son – also Joseph Handel – surprised everyone when he boarded a Cobb & Co coach and travelled north to Sydney. He, at first, worked for others, carving out a career as a respected cutter, before founding the company that survives today in 1884, setting up his first rooms in fashionable King Street. As the city grew, so too did the business, which in the early 1900s moved to new premises in nearby Bligh Street, the heart of the city’s financial hub. By this time, Joseph’s son, Leslie, a sought-after cutter, worked alongside his father.

Leslie’s son, Bruce, returned from London in 1939 – where he had been studying the trade – to defend Australia in the New Guinea campaign. He resumed managing the family business after the war.

John Handel Lawson Cutler, the current Managing Director, is the fourth generation of tailoring Cutlers. A Sydney Grammarian, he joined the family business at 16. Even before then he had shown great interest in the trade, spending many hours in the workshop observing the skilful cutting and sewing of garments for Sydney’s elite businessmen, politicians, entertainers, and wealthy arbiters of bespoke clothing.

John travelled to London at 18 – like his father and grandfather before him – to immerse himself in the trade. He worked at Dormeuil Frères learning about fine fabrics and studied at the Tailor & Cutter Academy, graduating in 1969. John later returned to Sydney and worked alongside his father, Bruce, becoming Managing Director of the family business in 1976, upon his father’s retirement.

The inaugural edition of Courvoisier’s Book of the Best – a trusted compendium for the stylish jet set – cited JH Cutler as being amongst the world’s leading tailoring houses. Several international lists name JH Cutler as one of the world’s 10 best tailors.

But it was in late 2005 when John’s profile launched into the stratosphere upon the completion of what was to become a high-profile commission from a loyal Canadian customer: a vicuna overcoat of the most exquisite quality – with a price tag to match. The $50,000 magnum opus made worldwide headlines and became the subject of an entire book, The Coat Route: Craft, Luxury, and Obsession on the trail of a $50,000 coat by American author, Meg Lukens Noonan.

John and JH Cutler have been the subject of two books: The Coat Route and Making the Cut: The Power behind a Tailoring Dynasty.

Now, John Cutler and Floyd Legge will write a new story, worthy of their separate – and now joint – histories.

‘After having the wool turned into my wedding suit, I looked for opportunities to retail the fabric to a tailor that was interested in a full provenance story from farm to customer. I asked people that know the luxury market and high-quality fashion, and they all recommended John Cutler. I called John and introduced myself, my business, and my story. 

Radil Arman, left, John Cutler, centre and Floyd Legge with the sheep that provided the superfine wool. Photo by Richard Weinstein

‘I explained the story, and it sparked John’s interest. I could see that John had a passion for Australian products and Australian-made products. His business was 137 years old, and he could see that our business stretched back 150 years. He asked me to post him a small strip of cloth. I did that and things went from there,’ Floyd said.

Floyd has learned that it’s best to start small. He has had a modest 120 metres of cloth woven and processed for his first attempt. Half of the cloth was dyed black, the other half a specific shade of navy. It is all destined for custom-made suits. John Cutler has already built several black dinner suits for his bespoke customers, and the result is magnificent.

‘The cloth produced by Floyd is the equal of anything of its type produced overseas. It’s lovely to work with and the black and navy-blue material will make very fine formal wear and lounge suits,’ John said.

John built the first suit – a black lounge suit – for Radil Arman. His son, Harvey, became a JH Cutler customer after receiving recommendations from friends. Harvey loved his bespoke suits so much he insisted John make one for his father.

Radil – a Uyghur from northwest China – had recently become an Australian citizen and loved the idea of having an Australian tailor make a suit from Australian wool woven by Australian companies. The result is spectacular.

‘I’m proud to call myself Australian and to surround myself with the greatness that Australia can produce. What could be better than wearing an Australian bespoke suit made with the world’s best wool made by one of the world’s finest tailors,’ said Radil.

Floyd is keen to progress the relationship with JH Cutler, and to continue production of fine high-quality wool for John to make into more bespoke masterpieces.

‘I would like to grow this business. This is a good fit for the current trend of people who want the traceability of farm-to-shop. It’s not just about producing a high-quality wool but value-adding it for the customer as well,’ Floyd said.

‘The quality of the cloth and its full traceability mean that its retail value is higher than some commercially available products. But being wholly Australian made puts a higher price on it. The provenance also gives it added value.’

John is a believer.

‘Meeting Floyd, and combining our family histories, which represent almost 300 years of service to the Australian wool and clothing industries, means a lot to me. I believe in Australia. I believe in Australian products. I believe in Australian skill. This project shows what this country can do, and it is the best in the world,’ John said.

Gourmet delights: One man’s passion for Maserati and cheese

Organic cheese-maker Umberto Panini saved an important slice of Italy’s cultural heritage when he purchased a collection of Maserati cars about to be sold offshore by Alejandro De Tomaso

It’s not hard to find the famous Panini Motor Museum outside Modena, in northern Italy. You can smell it. The aroma of cow dung will direct you – that and the scent of scandal.

The museum sits on the grounds of the Hombre organic cheese farm, which is in the hands of the Panini family. Founder Umberto Panini preferred a low-key life making some of the world’s best Parmigiano Reggiano (the official branding for genuine Parmesan cheese). But he also played an important role in saving Italian culture before he died in 2013.

Amongst the cows and the grass and the cheese resides one of Italy’s great car collections. It’s not the largest, but its big drawcard is it incorporates the world’s best gathering of rare Maseratis.

Kicking off the collection is a contender for the most gorgeous car ever built, the Maserati A6GCS Berlinetta. The last design penned by Pininfarina before the company tied itself exclusively to Ferrari, this magnificent GT car has a value of $5 million.

One of the most desirable GT cars of all time, the Maserati A6GCS (red), lines up along a delectable array of other grand touring cars

Count Paolo Gravina di Catania bought the A6GCS, chassis 2056, and entered it in the 1954 Giro di Sicilia, but he crashed and his co-driver died in the accident. The count returned the car to the factory, but when he eyeballed the repair quote, donated it to Maserati.

Maserati management neglected the A6GCS for 30 years until, in 1991, company owner Alejandro De Tomaso ordered a restoration. Carrozzeria Campana carried out the body rectification, while Maserati factory technicians performed the mechanical work in Modena.

Some of the world’s greatest GT cars sit alongside the A6GCS, including the gloriously styled 3500GT. GT or Gran Turismo (Grand Touring) is now a hackneyed phrase, but before almost every company stuck the badge on their cars, Maserati invented the designation back in 1957 with this model.

The Shah of Persia took a liking to the 3500GT, but he thought it lacked performance, so commissioned Maserati to produce a unique 5.0-litre (up from 3.5 litres) version in 1958. Named 5000GT, Maserati based it on a modified version of the 3500GT's tubular chassis, clothed in bodywork by Touring, and topped off with a V8 engine. A second car, almost identical to the Shah’s model, appeared at the 1959 Turin Motor Show and Maserati built 34 cars between 1959 and 1964. Panini’s example is one of 22 5000GTs designed by Allemano.

From important racing cars, to concepts that never entered production, to rare Maserati motorcycles, the Panini Museum has it all

A 1960s contender for the sexiest car of the decade is the Maserati Ghibli, styled by Giorgetto Giugiaro, the Designer of the Century. Panini has two: one of 1200 coupes produced, and a beautiful example of the rare Spyder version of which Maserati only made 90. Built on odd-numbered chassis, making it easy to spot coupe adaptations, decent convertible Ghiblis sell for seven figures.

Next up are two priceless prototypes. Maserati only produced one of each and they both reside in Panini’s collection: the 1964 Simun and the Giugiaro-designed four-seat Medici of 1972. Named after a wind, like many Maserati models, Giugiaro designed the Simun on a 4.2-litre V8 chassis, when he worked at Carrozzeria Ghia. 

Collezione Umberto Panini is not the largest car museum in Italy, but it is one of the most significant

Further oddball cars in the Panini Collection include the unique turbo-powered Marek made especially for Alejandro De Tomaso and the composite-bodied, rear-engine Prototype 96 Barchetta Stradale, which became the De Tomaso Barchetta. 

Launched in Paris in 1973, the Tipo 120, or Khamsin, named after an Egyptian desert wind, replaced the Ghibli. Designed by Bertone, and produced when Citroen controlled Maserati, a 280-horsepower 5.0-litre V8 engine powers the sleek coupe.

The Giugiaro-designed Bora caused a sensation when launched by Maserati at the 1971 Geneva Motor Show. Produced until 1979, the factory intended to run the Bora in Group 4 races. A 4.7-litre 310 horsepower V8 powers the 1973 example in Panini’s collection. Maserati increased the engine capacity in 1977 to 5.0 litres.

A further rarity on-show is the Quattroporte Royale Series III, built from 1985 to 1987. Maserati built just 52 four-door Royales, and the featured example has air conditioning, telephone, fridge, and electric seats, and boasts Campagnolo steel billet wheels.

Among the most famous racing Maseratis is the Tipo 61 ‘Birdcage’ model, so-called because of the Italian maker’s use of 200 welded steel tubes to construct the 36-kilogram chassis. The first cars from 1961 featured a front-engine layout before Maserati moved the power plant to the rear. In the latter configuration, the fuel tank almost lays across the driver’s belly.

Maserati delivered chassis 2472 in early 1961. The Camoradi Team entered the car in that year’s Nürburgring 1000-kilometre race, for drivers Lloyd Casner and Masten Gregory, who won the event. Lucky Casner drove it in the August 1961 Pescara Four Hours race but crashed while in the lead and damaged the car. Drogo repaired and re-bodied the single-seat racer. The Birdcage returned to the factory in 1963 where it remained until Panini purchased the car.

No Maserati collection is complete without a 250F Grand Prix racer. But Panini’s 1957 version is different – Umberto’s son Matteo has given it a V12 engine transplant. Unthinkable, perhaps, but when one has so many cars, one can afford to experiment. The world’s first female Formula One driver, Maria Teresa de Filippis, raced the Panini 250F when in original specification.

Another competition car, and this time not in the familiar Italian red livery, is the 1958 420/M58 with Eldorado ice-cream paint scheme. Stirling Moss drove the car in the Race of the Two Worlds (500 Miglia di Monza and Indianapolis 500) held in Italy and the USA in 1958 and 1959.

Powered by a 410-horsepower 4.2-litre V8 (derived from the 450S racing car but smaller to meet Indy Car regulations) the 420/M58 had a Medardo Fantuzzi-designed aerodynamic body. Moss’s team shifted the car’s weight distribution to one side for optimum performance on the banked circuits.

The ‘Eldorado’ 420/M58 as driven by Stirling Moss in the Race of the Two Worlds

Bringing things more up-to-date is the enormous engine from the world-beating Maserati MC12 racing car that sits alongside a Ferrari Formula One power plant.

More notable Maserati cars in the collection include a Vignale-bodied Mistral, the famous Boomerang concept car, and a Tipo 6CM Grand Prix racer.

Other Maserati masterpieces on show are of the two-wheel variety. The Modena-based company produced motorcycles between 1953 and 1960. Maserati engaged Umberto Panini between 1952 and 1957 as a road test rider, so he had a close affinity with the bikes. He owned one of the first motorcycles he ever tested, a black 250cc model.

It’s not all about Maserati, though. Panini has collected an array of other vehicles, sourced predominantly from Europe.

Amongst them is a Stanguellini Formula Junior of 1958, a BMW 507 roadster, a Mercedes-Benz 300SL, and an ancient De Dion Bouton.

But, with all this exotic machinery on display, it might surprise some that Umberto Panini considered a veteran Rolland-Pilain Model C from France his favourite.  

Found buried under a house – a common practice during WWII to fend off looting Nazis – it took 15 days to recover the Rolland-Pilain and a further two years to restore. Built in 1909, the 1150-kilogram ‘express’ features a 2.1-litre four-cylinder engine and is capable of 70km/h. That’s unremarkable, but the Model C carried Umberto’s daughter to her wedding, so remained his best-loved car until his passing.   

But, things could have turned out very differently for Panini and his vehicle collection.

When Alejandro De Tomaso purchased Maserati in 1975, a historic car collection came with the manufacturing operations. De Tomaso created a subsidiary company to ‘handle’ the machines so, when the Argentinian went broke and sold Maserati to Fiat in 1993, the car collection remained in his possession.

De Tomaso engaged auction house, Brookes, in London, to sell the lot. The priceless collection sat on the docks ready to be shipped to the UK when, because of a public outcry, the Italian Government placed a stop order on the auction.  

This Bill Thomas special is one of few non-Italian cars on display at Collezione Umberto Panini

Umberto Panini stepped in and bought the complete collection.  

The multi-millionaire made his fortune back in the 1950s when, along with his brother, he popularised the sticker craze. In later life, he adopted organic farming and produced world-class cheese outside Modena. 

Northern Italy produces the world’s best balsamic vinegar, Parma ham, and Parmesan cheese, but it’s not only for foodies. The closely linked towns of Modena, Bologna, and Maranello create a motoring Mecca.

The Pagani, Maserati, Lamborghini, and Ferrari factories lay within an easy drive of each other, and for two-wheel fans, Ducati is just up the road.

Not only can you find the factories of these legendary companies but, close by, you can visit Enzo Ferrari’s birthplace and the site of his first ‘Scuderia’ in Modena. The famous Neptune statue with his trident, used by the Maserati brothers as their emblem, stands in Bologna’s town square and, if you are lucky, you might glimpse Scuderia Ferrari testing their Formula One machines at the Fiorano track in Maranello.

But don’t count on a Ferrari factory visit.

In most cases, you need to be an existing Ferrari owner or have ordered a new car to score a works visit, so don’t bother lobbing at their door. If you don’t have an Italian exotic parked in the garage, the best way to see inside is to take a guided tour with a local operator.

Visit Panini Museum

Superlative: Those that do things well – Mike Harbar

Automotive illustrator Mike Harbar has become passionate about American muscle cars, like this 1966 Shelby 350GT Hertz competing at the Phillip Island MotoGP circuit

Drawing cars as a job is unconventional, but ex-pat Brit, Mike Harbar, wouldn't have it any other way. As one of few automotive artists making a full time living from his craft in Australia, one can count Harbar’s colleagues on one’s fingers.
 
Growing up in West London, his early association with motorcars proved inauspicious. He recalls his father's Ford Escort and Cortina, but his uncle's Ford Capri outclassed dad’s company cars.

"We didn't associate with anybody who owned a fancy car, but I always remember the first time I saw a Jaguar E-Type. I thought, 'Wow, that's fantastic'," Harbar said.
 
The Brit has drawn cars since he could hold a HB pencil.

"I remember always drawing concept cars and motorcycles in the back of my school exercise books," he said.

One of Mike Harbar's boyhood heroes, Barry Sheene on his winning Suzuki RG500

Combining his favourite subjects at school, Harbar aimed to make a career in art and design, so he attended Epsom School of Art and Design in 1986 gaining an Art Foundation Course Diploma, before moving on to De Montford University (Leicester Polytechnic), graduating in 1989 with a BA (Hons) in Product Design.
 
Harbar later worked as a graphic artist for an oil company in London, and this is where the Aussie connection takes place. Harbar met his Australian wife, Cathy, in 1989.

"We spent two years in the UK together," Harbar said. "Cathy's visa was running out though, so in 1992, we spent a year in Australia. I learned about the country, met the in-laws, and investigated the automotive scene.
 
"A year later, my visa was expiring, too, so we got married under a palm tree and went back to the UK. I worked for the London Underground drawing manuals, then I worked for a product design company for four years in rural Suffolk, designing, model making, and illustrating fibre optic products. Then Pro Engineer (a 3D computer program) came in and took away much of my work. So, rather than getting a proper job, I made my own and have drawn cars for a living ever since.
 
"I got freelance illustration work and the occasional car commission and published my range of black and white automotive prints, ranging from the AC Cobra 427 to the VW Beetle. Then I visited classic car shows and found an agent who bought my prints. A week later he asked for more and things went from there."

Classics from Britain remain a favourite, like this Aston Martin DB5 as used by James Bond in Skyfall

It seemed inevitable Harbar would move to the 'Promised Land', which he did in 2000. He took a risk – fewer people Down Under meant earning a living from art would stretch him, but it worked.
 
"It’s a smaller market, but there are fewer auto artists, so less competition, and the car culture is very enthusiastic here," Harbar said.  

Harbar started strongly after landing in Australia, becoming known through visiting car clubs and attending events.
 
As an artist, it is not in his nature to cold sell, but his livelihood depends on it, so Harbar does it anyway.  

"The art is the easy bit for me. The hardest part is selling it. I market the art, where I could spend that time drawing. But what is the point of creating all this if I can't sell it? I would rather someone else sell for me, so I can concentrate on doing what I enjoy doing most: drawing."

Soon, Harbar received commissions from private clients, and before long, corporate Australia jumped on his train. Holden Racing Team and Ford Performance Vehicles commissioned works, as have The Sir Henry Royce Foundation, DaimlerChrysler, and Australia Post.

Harbar has exhibited his art at the Adelaide Clipsal 500, Melbourne Motor Show, RACV Club, Australian Formula One Grand Prix, Phillip Island Classic Festival of Motorsport, and Motorclassica, while in the UK, events have included the Land Speed Record exhibition at Brooklands, the Birmingham Classic & Sports Car Show, and Goodwood Revival.

Harbar fell in love with the heroes of his adopted home, including this Holden VK Commodore, raced by the Holden Dealer Team at Bathurst

Harbar's heaving bookshelves testify to his varied artistic influences. His favourites in the automotive art field include Geo Ham, Gordon Crosby, and Michael Turner. He has been a member of the Guild of Motoring Artists in the UK.

His repertoire is vast, ranging from Australian and American muscle cars and racing machines to classics from his homeland.  

"My favourite subjects are Aston Martin and Jaguar, but Bugatti and Bentley are up there as well," Harbar said.

But since landing Down Under, Harbar has fallen in love with Phase III Falcons, Toranas, Monaros and other classic Aussie racing legends that pounded the blacktop at Bathurst, Sandown, and Phillip Island back during the 1960s and 1970s. He also cultivated a close working relationship with racing icon, Harry Firth, which bore fruit with a line of Bathurst Legends artworks.

The affable Brit has a sense of humour. All his artworks contain his hidden signature trademark: a church spire in deference to his faith and love of the English countryside.

He works with several mediums, including charcoal, pen, watercolour, and marker, but his favourite is the grey lead pencil.

Harbar begins a new commission by drawing the outline and detail of the car, then uses a range of lead pencils from 4H (hard) to 4B (soft) to produce varied tones and textures. He is skilful and accurate, but can also be “loose”, making the pencils dance. After many hours, the subject emerges from the paper. For a splash of colour, Harbar paints watercolour washes over the lead pencil, an unorthodox method, but it works.

This is the usual way Harbar illustrates one-off commissions. The only limit is the customer's imagination and budget.

A private commission of a boat-tail Delage along with the owner’s cat, George

"For a special commission, I mainly work from photos, so customers from anywhere in Australia or around the world can send me a picture and I work from that.”

Harbar can incorporate a favourite view, a house, or even a pet, in a car portrait. Anything’s possible.

A more economical route involves personalising an existing print with a colour, numberplate, and other factory-fitted options specific to an owner’s car.

One of the most unusual commissions drawn by Harbar is the 1997 ThrustSSC (Supersonic Car), which holds the World Land Speed Record at 763.035 mph (1227.99 km/h) over the measured mile, breaking the speed of sound. Using his technical illustration skills, Harbar drew the car while technicians constructed it. Taking over 100 reference photos, consulting CAD drawings, live sketches, and interviewing the engineers, Harbar completed the illustration in record time and created reproduction prints to help fund the successful Land Speed Record project.

Harbar has hundreds of prints in his portfolio and has contacts all over the world. 

Mike Harbar drew this commission of World Land Speed Record holder, ThrustSSC, as its technicians built it

"I have completed about 200 commissions for satisfied customers worldwide, including the UK, USA, Canada, Germany, Switzerland, and India."

Harbar has also had his artwork featured in books The Brescia Bugatti by Bob King, and Aston Martin: Power, Beauty and Soul and A Le Mans Diary by David Dowsey.
It's easy to see Harbar is restless and has big plans.

"In the future, I want to draw cut-away views and classic wooden boats, produce 3D artwork and sculpture and radiator mascots, and illustrate a children's book."

If only he had two pairs of hands and more hours in the day…      

See more of Mike Harbar’s artwork at Classic Lines Artist.

Superlative: Those that do things well – Peter Krajnc

Model maker Peter Krajnc oversees a meticulous creation featuring the Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR sports car raced by Stirling Moss. Photo by Wayne Preusker

Monet’s Garden, the Isle of Capri, Prague’s narrow laneways – I understand how beautiful surroundings inspire artists. But a dimly lit backyard shed in regional Australia? That’s something else again. 

Peter Krajnc creates exquisite automotive-themed dioramas in modest surroundings and on a tight budget. But take another, closer look. This is the work of an artist of the highest calibre. And he lives in Wangaratta, Victoria.

I couldn’t help but notice Krajnc’s ‘studio’ is a little on the shabby side during my guided tour. It certainly offers little promise of the beauty that emerges from within.

As I inspect a miniature figurine of Holden team manager Harry Firth, Krajnc stops to close the workshop’s blinds. He explains softly, as if not to wake the sleeping models, that it keeps the sun off his precious creations. “The paint fades on the cars if too much sun gets on them,” he says.

In one corner of the shed, sitting beneath a windowsill, is Krajnc’s crowded workbench, crowded with tools of the trade – miniature saws, pliers, paint bottles and glue tubes.

Off to the side of the instruments rest finely detailed miniature human heads sitting mutely in small filing trays, awaiting attachment to their similarly scaled plastic bodies. There are also scratch-built oxy torches, what appears to be a woman’s necklace and a jig Krajnc has fabricated for assembling scale office chairs and tables.

Next to the workbench is a large wooden wardrobe heaving under the weight of countless model kit boxes, as yet to receive Krajnc’s magic touch. The scale modeler says he hopes to piece them all together one day. Maybe he will. I suspect he won’t.

Every detail of this Ford Falcon GTHO Phase III and workshop scene is carefully researched and reproduced by model maker Peter Krajnc. Photo by Wayne Preusker

 Krajnc has acted as a full-time carer for his elderly parents for many years. The isolated lifestyle fosters an amazing eye for detail and the patience of Job. Clearly a disciple of accuracy, he directs my attention to the intricate detail of a miniature oilcan. “I’m going to change that,” he says, staring at its invisible imperfections. “It’s not quite right.”

I’m sure he is right. I just don’t know why.

It takes a person with the artistic insight of Krajnc to create these amazing pieces. The job includes conceptualising the finished diorama, interviewing subjects, sketching detailed plans, researching books and films, sourcing resources, constructing parts and assembling the models. It’s not for the fainthearted.

Before long, I run my eyes covetously over his collection of accurately detailed dioramas. But it’s Harry Firth’s miniature workshop, complete with Peter Brock’s Holden LJ GTR XU-1 Torana and GTS 350 Monaro that stops me in my tracks.

Clearly impressed after inspecting the diorama, the son of Brock’s mechanic, Ian Tate, reported to Krajnc he was spot on with the piece, apart from one detail – Harry Firth stood in the wrong place (he always sat in the workshop’s corner).

It’s a good thing Krajnc glues nothing down. That’s right. Nothing is permanently attached to their bases. Not those spanners, the racks of tyres, even the workshop broom leaning against the wall. Harry Firth is not even fixed in place.

“I’m always changing the dioramas, adding to them and finding out that things are in the wrong place. I leave them now, so I can move things around,” says Krajnc.

Team Maserati. A rare A6GCS coupe, a ‘Birdcage’ sports car, and two 250F Grand Prix cars receive attention in a Peter Krajnc workshop scene that’s accurate in every detail. Photo by Wayne Preusker

 Models and dioramas cover every available shelf and tabletop in Krajnc’s shed. His collection includes Stirling Moss’ Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR sports car, ‘Birdcage’ and 250F Maserati racers, and some Formula One open-wheelers. But it’s easy to see a parochial glint in the model-maker’s eyes.

Of his several dozen dioramas many are Aussie muscle or V8 Supercar-themed. Allan Moffat’s Ford Falcon GTHO Phase IIIs, Brock’s Toranas and Monaros, and the Commodores and Falcons of Craig Lowndes, John Bowe and Dick Johnson dominate. Some bear the signatures of their legendary pilots.

So it’s interesting to hear that Krajnc’s first automotive love is not cars at all – it’s motorcycles. It was bike riding that gave the Victorian his start in model making, and dozens of motorcycles and bike-themed dioramas sit proudly amongst his collection.

“I began by making motorcycles,” he says. “Then I asked myself, ‘How can I display these better?’ So I started making pit scenes for the bike models. But bike garages aren’t big or involved, with lots of tools and things. So I began building car displays instead.”

Krajnc began by building the smaller 1/24th scale model cars, but when the bigger, more detailed 1/18th scale started becoming more popular, especially with Australian muscle and racing cars, his creativity went into hyperdrive.

One of Krajnc’s talents is spotting artistic merit in mundane objects – the things most people have lying around their house, or throw in the trash.

He points out a set of silver brake drums collected on a workbench in his Maserati racing car display. Krajnc reveals he uses dental floss spools to make the brake centres. Touched up with paint, they became realistic mechanical accessories. There are bottle tops, tree branches, and jewellery items in his dioramas as well, but only the keenest eye will spot them.

A Ford Falcon XY GT receives some suspension treatment. As in all Peter Krajnc dioramas, nothing is glued down. Photo by Wayne Preusker

Promising material appears in hardware stores and junk shops. A useful item he uses often is printer’s plate – thin aluminium sheet he cuts with scissors and fashions into intricate body panels. Painted and re-formed, it’s almost unrecognisable as a pencil-like Maserati 250F bonnet, complete with its many air vents. The local printer – who would normally toss it in the bin – gives it to Krajnc for free.

 The all-important figures in his creations come from scale model soldier collections. Cut up and manipulated into new positions, Krajnc sends the figures to Queensland where a specialist molds them into new plastic race drivers and pit crew. Krajnc then customises them further by adding a cigarette drooping from a mechanic’s lips, or miniscule cloth handkerchiefs tied around their necks – some have pockets bulging with oily rags.

One area where Krajnc rarely ventures is altering the cars. There are a couple of racers showing oil and dirt stains, and one diorama features a rusty old tow truck, but in the main he leaves the metal or plastic kits as they come out of the box.

Sourced mainly from local Classic Carlectables and Biante collections, the models are usually accurate, says Krajnc. He doesn’t like to change them too much because he alternates them across his dioramas, or occasionally he trades them in order to buy something new. It’s better to leave them alone, he says.

One of Krajnc’s favourite pieces is his Maserati workshop diorama featuring a complete 250F racer alongside a dismantled example showing its inner workings. The diorama took over a year to construct, not including the research.

But it’s not finished, he tells me, asking if I can see the spark plugs on his workbench. Craning my neck and straining my eyes, I can just make them out. “I need to make little packets for them,” he explains. “Maserati had their own spark plugs and I need to get a photo of them first before I can do that.” There’s no doubt about it, Krajnc is fussy.

The model maker then reveals one of his next creations. Still in its infancy, it’s an office with wooden doll’s house furniture and wood-panelled walls craftily constructed from wooden placemats. “This is going to be big,” he boasts, pointing to a figure seated in a yet-to-be-finished office. “I am going to add a workshop to the side of it.”

Krajnc works with a couple of local wood turner mates who fashion items like oxy bottles and air compressors for him. He also has a train hobbyist friend who mills brass items, which are then posted to Queensland to have molds taken.

Krajnc has wide-ranging taste in ‘real’ dream cars. Though he finds it hard to disguise his Ford bias, he admits to admiring the last-generation Monaro’s style. But true to form, the Ford GT two-door coupe appeals to him.

Being a two-wheel enthusiast at heart, though, Krajnc also wouldn’t mind getting his leg over an MV Agusta F4 1000 for Sunday rides. He would also like to attend more historic car and motorcycle races at the nearby Winton racetrack, when he has the time.

Krajnc sneaks in a few hours of model making when most of Australia is asleep. He now has a little more time on his hands and is keen to get back into more regular hours.

It’s work that pay poorly. Krajnc knows most people don’t appreciate the time he takes to produce museum-worthy pieces. So he will only take a commission if a client is prepared to pay a fair price.

Some of Krajnc’s dioramas take 900 hours to complete, and that doesn’t include research, interviews, design and sketching. So at even a modest hourly labour rate, plus the raw materials, it can add up to a high-priced investment. People have tried offering $200 for a piece, but Krajnc is worth more than that.

The model maker is pragmatic about the situation – he simply enjoys his craft for the love of it. But it’s also a frustration. An artisan of his standing should be in great demand. His amazingly detailed work is worth the money and the people who can afford it should form an orderly queue.

Money is not at the forefront of Krajnc’s mind though and hastens the conversation onto his next piece. “I wouldn’t mind doing something on Le Mans,” he calls down the driveway as I hop into my car to leave. “Maybe something with those beautiful Jag D-Types …”

Florentine bespoke shoemaker Stefano Bemer helped his customers live with greater elegance until the very end

Suede and calf leather Stefano Bemer bespoke shoes, circa 2010. Photo by Darren House

“A shoe is an object which, if of excellent quality, helps us to walk and live more comfortably.” So begins the marketing material for Stefano Bemer’s bespoke and ready-to-wear shoe lines.

Having known Stefano as a friend and customer, I can attest to the reality of this statement. But, if I may, I would like to embellish by adding that Stefano Bemer has helped me live more elegantly. In short, he has made me a better man.

Sydney tailor, John Cutler, introduced me to Stefano on a trip to Pitti Immagine Uomo in 2007. Meeting one morning on the Ponte Vecchio, a little too early after a night on the local Chianti, we walked the back streets of Florence, away from the tourist traps centred on the city’s ancient and famous bridge. Finally, we arrived at a hole-in-the-wall shopfront on Borgo San Frediano that was no more than a wooden door and a single window exhibiting a black oxford lace-up, above which ran a brick arch filled in with Art Nouveau lacework.

“Each time I tie the flat laces of his bespoke creations I am honoured, quite literally, to be walking in his shoes”

— David Dowsey

But what beauty lay inside. Glass cabinets and wooden racks heaved with Stefano’s impressive bespoke shoe collection, built up over 20 years. Deciding instantly to commission my first shoes, I held aloft an immaculate brown-leather-and-blue-suede button-up boot with hand-sewn buttonholes. I glanced sheepishly at Stefano. He glared back at me with his piercing blue eyes.

“You don’t want that. It is not good for when you are alone with the ladies at night.”

The English wasn’t quite perfect, but I perfectly understood his meaning. So I moved onto a pair of dark brown and burgundy spectators.

I returned to Florence six months later, full of anticipation at experiencing my ‘try-ons’, only to be disappointed when a pair of shoes appeared from the rear workshop not quite to my specification. I tried them on and Stefano tweaked the fit. I later learned Stefano threw them away after making the last modifications. My ‘try-ons’ would have graced the grandest shoe shops in the world. But there you are…

The completed correspondents arrived by post several months later. On opening the wooden wine crate of a shoebox, pot-pourri from Officina Profumo-Farmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella wafted into my nostrils. It’s a scent won’t forget.

Stefano Bemer, right, points out the benefits of his custom shoes to David Dowsey in 2008

Personal touches, like stamping my initials in black on the shoebox and in gold on the two large brushes provided and on each chiseled sole, won me over. Slipping on the meticulously constructed correspondents sealed the deal.

Despite his bear-like visage, Stefano Bemer appeared small and delicate, alongside my six-feet-three-inch frame. I knew of his various health issues from the beginning, and the large vertical scar running down his hairy chest did not escape my notice, either. He was not a well man.

But Stefano always exhibited a ‘devil may care’ attitude that inspired. Having a second – or third – glass of wine or another spoonful of tiramisu was as high a priority as regularly checking his insulin levels. He lived to enjoy life, and he lived life to the full.

But health issues eventually caught up with him and he passed away at only 48. The funeral was held at the Chiesa del Cestello in Florence, Stefano’s coffin draped with his well-worn apron and a suede and leather two-tone shoe.

The Mayor of Florence, Matteo Renzi, provided a tribute of the highest honour by stating that Stefano “was a man who incarnated the true essence of the Florentine artisan”.

Stefano began in the trade mending shoes in the early 1980s. When the village cobbler died, Stefano struck out on his own, setting up a repair shop in 1983, in Greve, Chianti. He soon moved on to building his own shoes, with no formal training, and transferred to Florence in 1987 to offer his bespoke artistry to a wider audience. He launched a ready-to-wear line, as good as anything on the market, in 2000. Made-to-measure followed in 2004. Stefano was on the way to becoming one of the world’s master bespoke shoemakers.

Famously stubborn, he knocked back an approach by Gucci to purchase his brand, preferring to remain the master of his domain. His lack of penetration into major markets was, at least in part, due to his insistence on charging what his shoes were worth. Compromise wasn’t an option.

I recall him slamming the telephone down when a distributor asked for a discount. “If I find out that shops are selling my shoes on sale, I will not give them any more shoes,” he said. He soon calmed down and walked me around the corner, near his Bemer’s ready-to-wear shop, for cafe ‘shakerato’ (black coffee shaken with ice).

Happily, Stefano trained several talented apprentices, some of whom have created their own successful businesses, including Saskia Wittmer in Florence, Norman Vilalta in Barcelona, and Justin FitzPatrick (the Shoe Snob) in London. But he never lived down one would-be shoemaker who shyly entered his store in 1999. Enquiring if Stefano would take him on as an apprentice, the man turned up at the workshop the next day, and every other day for the next 11 months. His name was Daniel Day-Lewis.

The Oscar-winning actor had dropped out of filmmaking to concentrate on what was important to him – shoemaking. Stefano is on the record as saying that Day-Lewis was an excellent study, but one who was overly hard on himself when his stitching strayed from dead even.

Removing a pair of Stefano’s shoes from an unvarnished wooden wine box now has greater poignancy. Inside the last pair I commissioned from him, stamped and handwritten, are my name and the date ‘Giugno 2012’, the month before he passed away. They must be amongst the last shoes completed before his death.

They are now a time capsule. But they won’t rest unworn in my closet. I will walk in them, just as Stefano had wished. Now, more than ever, each time I tie the flat laces of his bespoke creations I am honoured, quite literally, to be walking in his shoes.

Ciao, Stefano. Elegante fino all’ultimo.

The customised sole of a bespoke pair of Stefano Bemer Russian reindeer leather boots made in 2009 from leather tanned in 1786

Australia’s most expensive car book revealed

One of the rarest and most expensive new automotive books has been unveiled. Elfin: The Spirit of Speed is published in three editions, but it is the latest and last edition that is creating all the headlines.

Elfin: The Spirit of Speed Ultimate Edition is 704 pages long, weighs almost 20 kilograms (book and case), costs $2750 and is available to just five lucky enthusiasts. The book features incredible production values, with a specially made matching slipcase, heavyweight stock, ribbon bookmark modeled on the famous Elfin-made magnesium wheel, and is packed with rare historical photos, and specially commissioned photographic essays of every Elfin model produced between 1959 and 2012.

Published by well-known automotive identity and one-time Elfin Sports Cars owner, Bill Hemming, and written by motoring journalist David Dowsey, Elfin: The Spirit of Speed captures the story of the South Australian marque founded by Garrie Cooper through the eyes of those who lived it.

“David Dowsey took five years to write this book, interviewing over 50 people who were intimately connected with the Elfin story,” said Elfin Heritage Centre founder, Bill Hemming.

“Members of Garrie Cooper’s family, employees, mechanics, designers, body-builders, and drivers – including Vern Schuppan, John Bowe, Kevin Bartlett, John McCormack and Larry Perkins – tell their stories in the unforgettable tale of the tiny Adelaide company which became the second largest racing car manufacturing business in the world.”

Elfin: The Spirit of Speed Ultimate Edition is packaged in a wood and aluminium presentation box complete with leather straps and a special presentation plaque cut from Vern Schuppan’s Elfin MR8A-C, which he campaigned in Australia and – in Can-Am specification – North America. Housed inside their own compartments is a signed and numbered copy of the book along with a selection of genuine Elfin Sports Cars body-making tools used by Garrie Cooper and body-maker and designer John Webb from the late 1950s through to the late 1970s.

“I was lucky enough to visit Elfin employee John Webb in Adelaide one year ago and he gifted these tools to me. Later that night he had a heart attack and died. This unfortunate event has become part of the Ultimate Edition story and those lucky enough to purchase this book will have genuine tools used by Mr Webb and Garrie Cooper to build the aluminium versions of almost all the models constructed under Cooper’s ownership. It’s an incredible and unrepeatable story,” said Mr Hemming.

Five Ultimate Edition packages have been made and only one remains available.

Elfin: The Spirit of Speed is available in Standard Edition, Limited Edition and Ultimate Edition versions and can be purchased only from the Elfin Heritage Centre and elfinspiritofspeed.com.au

Elfin: The Spirit of Speed

Magnificent stories often originate from humble beginnings. And so it is with Elfin Sports Cars.

Built in a Besser Block factory in suburban Adelaide, Elfin's products were at the vanguard of competitive Australian motorsport from the late 1950s until the premature death of founder Garrie Cooper, at just 46 years of age, in 1982.

From spritely closed-wheel sports cars to ferocious V8-powered Formula 5000s the greatest Australian drivers of the time – including Vern Schuppan, John McCormack, Larry Perkins, John Bowe, Frank Matich, Kevin Bartlett and Spencer Martin, and international luminaries, Formula One World Champion, James Hunt, and Ferrari ace, Didier Pironi – drove Elfin to 29 major Australian titles, along with winning the Singapore, Malaysian, and New Zealand Grands Prix along the way.

Today almost every Elfin built remains extant and many are still competing in historic motorsport, the ultimate testament to the skilful engineering and incredible ingenuity of Elfin Sports Cars.

With a foreword by ex-Formula One driver and Le Mans 24-Hour winner, Vern Schuppan AM, Elfin: The Spirit of Speed goes behind the legend to expose the extraordinary tales, many yet untold, from those closest to the manufacturer: family members, drivers, team members, employees, and Elfin owners; in fact more than 50 interviews were conducted by author, David Dowsey.

Specially commissioned studio photography by Richard Weinstein along with period historic images bring the story to life, while extremely high production values – and an imposing 704 page count – create a fitting legacy to this great Australian story. 

Elfin: The Spirit of Speed is a magnificent story beautifully told.

Elfin: The Spirit of Speed, available in three editions, is available from the Elfin Heritage Centre.