A couple months ago, I received a call from Steve "Carpy" Carpenter. If you love motorcycles and know anything about café racing, you know who Carpy is. My problem was, when he called, I didn't—and he knew it.
Steve Carpenter"Sure," I say. "I'm a bit busy right now, so I'll put you on the list."
I'll wait a minute to let that sink in.
Okay, read on ...
See, here's the deal: Carpy is one of the most talented bike builders around (he recently built a Honda CB750 café bike for Green Day), and I'm talking on the telephone with him with no better idea about his identity than if he were Mr. Joe Everybody himself. If clueless were water, I'd be flailing in the deep-end wearing concrete underbritches.
But even through my blundering, I have to say, you just can't ask for a friendlier fellow than Carpy. He called me "mate" at least two dozen times, and though my stunted development in the topic of café bike building was glaring, we chatted for fifteen minutes or more about bikes, art, and the possibility of negotiating a gig.
He didn't hire me, and I can understand why. But I've reached a fortunate point in my freelance career where from time to time I can take on special work as a personal project. (I call it fortunate because I know of many freelancers who simply can't afford to take time away from commissioned work to pursue individual projects.) So when the opportunity arises, I'm on it. And this was one of those opportunities.
Café racing is a British invention of the 1960s in which the riders started from a café—typically the Ace Club in London—and raced around the block back to the same cafe before a song on the jukebox could end. Whether they break it, crack it, or just plain "do" the ton, it all meant the same thing: café racers hitting the 100 mph mark. If you want to learn more, check out these links: The Tonup Club, The Ace Cafe and The 59 Club.
Because I didn't have any direction from a real client other than our brief conversation, this project is a bit phony; great illustration or design is always because of a great client. But if Carpy wasn't going to hire me, I was going to hire myself. I wanted to learn what might have come from the project if he had told me, "anything goes." What the heck, if I fall flat on my face, no one needs to know but me. But if I'm happy with the results, I'll offer him a signed print of the piece.Using some photos from his web site for inspiration, and borrowing heavily from Marvel's Ghost Rider comic, here's what I came up with:
Now back to the drawing board.
