The Wright Brothers

When Orville and Wilbur Wright were designing their airplane, they were so involved with the project that they could hardly wait for morning to get back to work, and then would stay late at night trying to solve the issues that had kept man on the ground. They were deeply committed and involved—in love with what they were doing. Their airplane design was not a model of an esthetic styling study, but it nonetheless was a beautiful design in its delicate simplicity. They were perfectionists, knowing that all of the parts had to be designed to be perfectly integrated or the device wouldn’t work. A statement of minimalism. There was nothing on the airplane that didn’t have to be there for it to function.

Car design, where details, gestures, graphics, surfacing, stance, and proportion have an integrated quality that supports a clear, discernible theme are designs that tug heartstrings. It is a matter of personal preference as to what designs have this quality, but each of us have our favorites. You know the feeling—you round a corner and are suddenly eye to headlight with a stunning design that is clearly several cuts above the ordinary. Whatever group designed that car had vision, loved what they were doing, and were blessed with a system that allowed it to go into production.

There was a time where design was like that for all of us. Freedom of expression. Focused, uncomplicated creativity.

This artistic video is about a motorcycle builder in Los Angeles who loves what he is doing. He customizes old Hondas and makes them into European-style cafe racers. He’s intoxicated by the gratification of realizing his creative vision. I would imagine that Orville and Wilbur shared the same potent brew.

Cafe Cowboy

Cafe cowboy from benedict campbell on Vimeo.

Dustin Knott’s website: www.kottmotorcycles.com.

What does any of this have to do with a 1933 Indian? A driver’s license meant I was old enough to drive a car or, heaven forbid, a motorcycle. My dad sat me down one day and explained the rules. “I don’t EVER want you to get a motorcycle,” he explained in no uncertain terms. But there was a trailing tone in his voice—there was more to come. “But if you do, get a big one.” No small import bikes for him. He meant that the big bikes were safer.

My dad on his Indian Four in Oklahoma City in the mid ’30s.

I have photos from the ’30s of my dad on several of his motorcycles. He told me a bit about this one. Funny, I don’t remember him ever talking about his Harley’s. He bought the Indian from a policeman, it was great for parades because it could be driven slowly in any gear (loads of low-end torque), and you could nearly lay the bike down on its side by wacking the throttle if the bike was standing still.

Enter Jay Leno. He has one of these bikes, and has a video on Leno’s Garage where he goes over the bike in great detail. He ends with a ride on the bike where the viewer comes along with him. It’s a great video, and helped me connect with my dad and his experiences with his Indian.