|
|
 |
The Dutch Touch
|
|
|
|
|
|
Von Dutch Condor motorcycle
Basem Wasef
08/01/2005
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
Cordero Studios
|
At first glance, the unassuming, Swiss-made motorcycle from the
1940s may seem like a curious but unexceptional antique. But in the case of this
particular 1941 Condor, the object offers a glimpse into the psyche of one of
the most influential and mysterious figures of custom car and bike
culture.
Von Dutch was born Kenneth Howard in 1929 near Watts, Calif. (The
nickname came from family members who considered him stubborn as a Dutchman.)
His father, a painter and gold leafer who designed the famous Western
Exterminator logo, exposed him to the arts at an early age. And while working as
a cleanup boy at a body shop, the young and precociously talented Dutch
volunteered to paint a motorcycle using a brush from his father’s toolbox. The
results were so staggering that no one believed it could be his work. Von Dutch
accepted a bet over repeating the feat and so kick-started a life that would be
marked by stunning artistic achievement and alienation, all of which ended with
his death from cirrhosis of the liver in 1992.
Pinstriping has existed since
ancient Egyptians decorated their carts, but Von Dutch’s innovative manipulation
of the art form began in the late 1940s when he painted stripes on cars and
motorcycles in order to distract from sloppy body work. Rather than adhering to
the vehicle’s preexisting contours, Von Dutch’s free-form, calligraphic painting
revolutionized the craft and became its own reason for being. Von Dutch’s
dramatically distinctive work quickly made his name synonymous with a new style
of pinstriping, and people everywhere requested that their cars be “Dutched.” He
also became the paterfamilias of the vanguard movement called Kustom Kulture,
which sought to overcome the banality of mass-manufactured anonymity through
wildly colorful, one-off designs.
In spite of his burgeoning notoriety—or
perhaps because of it—Von Dutch became a bitter contrarian. Attaining iconic
status from the success of his work, he grew to loathe money and the comfort it
brought. By conscientiously resisting fame and fortune, he created a discomfort
zone in an effort to maintain the integrity of his work. “There’s a struggle you
have to go through,” he once explained, “and if you make a lot of money it
doesn’t make the struggle go away. It just makes it more complicated. If you
keep poor, the struggle is simple.”
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
