crude, dry, and beaten — perfect.
the crooked red sticker demanded “handle with care.” scars and tattoos collected from Hemiksem to Plainfield never revealed the contents hugged in naked cardboard — but to hell with any preconceptions when that perforated flap was ripped open.
a slight crush of the corner beat the finger’s oils in making it personalized; nothing screams presence more than road bruises. the book is reduced to the essentials; no dust jacket, no unnecessary bullshit. A Flat 6 Love Affair, and a serial number, WP0ZZZ91ZGS102241 embossed in gold begged the fingertip’s caress. if the 1986 chassis number didn’t pull the eyebrows together, the faint backslash feigning imperfection between them would. the cover opens to reveal night framed in paper…
"...the shape, the legend, and that goddamned mechanical sextet rock and roll howl coming from behind."
there’s something about this tribe bound by machines that bellow a language in 1-6-2-4-3-5 rhythm. each of them are worlds apart in personality yet share one mutation of DNA that draws them to the shape, the legend, and that goddamned mechanical sextet rock and roll howl coming from behind. the realization hits; this isn’t a book at all, it’s a motley family photo album.
everyone of Bart’s subjects surrendered that day. he caught them at their most vulnerable immortalizing them in black and white. was it the romance of being documented by a method discarded in favor of technology that makes this album riveting? maybe the celebration of simpler times that birthed these machines, those who drove them, and those who rushed childhood to fulfill a vow of owning the first one they ever saw, the first one they ever heard?
through the art of photography stacked and bound, Bart’s telling us something poignant…these aren’t cars, nor are they simply 911s, these are mares. thought, emotion, touch, bond; the photos drag you deeper into the owner’s odyssey. their 911 has become a part of them; they’ve become part of their 911. each has a personality, a scent, which belongs to no other. this is about your odyssey, your devotion to a machine that transcends into the realm of personification.
there’ll be times when familiarity derails the senses, it’s human nature. if there’s a way to re-ignite the sensation when the experience was fresh, when everything was a mystery waiting to be revealed…when fear, uncertainty, excitement, and virility were reasons for feeling alive, it’s within these pages. Bart’s journey did more than show us a good eye; it turned the switch from love and passion back to lust and infatuation.
the book can be purchased here: