In case you missed it, last weekend was the Greenwich Concours. The event is split into two days: the Concours de Sport on Saturday and the Concours d’Elegance on Sunday. Though the judges crowned two overall Best in Show winners—a gorgeous Lamborghini Miura and a timeless Duesenberg Model J—the show was packed with fantastic cars worthy of mention.
So many, in fact, that by sundown on Sunday, my feet hurt from all the walking, and I had a decent sunburn. After leafing through my notebook, I’ve selected seven cars for your viewing and reading pleasure. They were among my favorites from the show. And it helped their case that the owners or caretakers were nearby for me to bombard with questions.
So without further ado…
In a class dedicated to the model, one Riviera clearly stood out on the field at Roger Sherman Baldwin Park. And how couldn’t it? Candy apple red paint, six inches of additional length on each end, a white interior with a matching half-landau top, and… is that a Sony TV in the back?
To celebrate the first year of the Riviera, GM earmarked one off the line for custom-car phenom George Barris to modify. Notable design touches include headlights hidden behind grille-patterned covers, cantilever operation of the top, and a walnut-trim interior to contrast with the white leather.
A movie producer cast the car in the 1964 film For Those Who Think Young, stipulating that it would have to be painted white. The Sony TV, four-track audio system, and twin telephones are all movie elements.
Later iterations of the car featured blue paint, a gray interior, and even side pipes. When owner Jeffrey Goldstein bought the car about ten years ago, it was red again, but didn’t have the proper wheels or tires. His restoration included a number of custom-fabricated parts to match up with Barris’ (excellent) documentation. He bought the tires from Coker and then had Diamond Back Classic Tires put on the correct triple-stripe whitewalls.
“Wherever we take it, accolades follow,” the car’s caretaker told me, “And it draws people in like nothing else.”
Ever wake up one morning, make some coffee, and think “what if the Porsche 912 had more than triple the horsepower and went on a ferocious diet thanks to a carbon-fiber body?” We’re guessing that Hungarian filmmaker Miklós Kázmér likes his brew with a healthy dose of pálinka, because his restomod is that kind of unhinged.
I actually got to drive this maniac the day before the show started. It was a brief dance, so for full remarks, please read Nik Berg’s full European drive of the car, but I can confirm that 190 hp in a car weighing about 1600 pounds is a riot. The seating position is deep, the fixed-back bucket seat swallowing you as you cross the door sill and settle in. KAMM’s shifter is an exposed, Spyker-like rod positioned next to a red button for the reverse lockout and a green-handled kill switch.
It’s a lot of theater, but none of the raw hardware compares to the savage din of the four-banger barking to life. Pops and roars like this seemed almost unbecoming of a such a pretty, dainty little sports car. My short drive at city speeds didn’t tell me much about the car’s handling, but the immediacy of the 912c’s throttle and precision of its steering made me lust for more time with it. It does, however, seem like the kind of weapon I’d prefer to wield in short hour-long bursts rather than multi-state road trips.
Talk about presence. Any six-door, long-wheelbase Mercedes-Benz 600 Pullman possesses a gravitational force of its own, but Rob Ida’s modifications take that appeal and fascination to a new level.
The most obvious change is that the rear-most doors now open on a reversed hinge. They’re attached to the previously fixed door post, so when the second and third doors are open, it reveals a super-wide space for ingress and egress. The second-row seats have been modified to face the other way, and Ida customized the whole rear passenger seating to be able to fold flat into a kind of tufted leather bed. All of the Pullman’s mechanisms—including door locks—were originally hydraulic, and they have since been converted to electric, for simplicity and reliability. Inside is a TV, a traditional partition, and even a champagne chiller.
There are more surprises inside, especially under the hood. Despite the Mercedes engine cover, it’s actually an LS motor at work here. “If we put an AMG motor in it, we’d have to change the suspension, and we didn’t want to do that,” explained Ida. “We were able to maintain all of the suspension without cutting. It packaged well.”
The air suspension, too, has a trick up its sleeve, says Ida: “It’s a beautiful system if they work right. We did restore the whole suspension system, and it works well. I modified it a bit, so it has a mechanical linkage arm that goes from a metering valve to the suspension. We have an electronic actuator on that arm, so when you apply the parking brake, it [also] lowers the car. And when you start moving, it raises up.”
The wheels are an 18-inch version of what the original hubcaps look like, but the center cap is rigged up so it can spin but will always re-center to upright, with the Mercedes star in proper orientation.
“In a way, sometimes you feel bad about making modifications to such a rare old car,” Ida explained, “but if it makes it more usable, and more enjoyable, then I see the point.”
Ida actually passed on the project a couple times before coming to appreciate and understand the model’s history and the owner’s vision. (Fun fact: they think the car once belonged to a dictator of Romania.)
View this post on InstagramA post shared by Hagerty (@hagerty)
Even on a park lawn, a bright-green Mopar muscle legend stands out. Oh, I’m sorry, let me use this paint’s proper Plymouth name: Sassy Grass Green.
If you don’t already love the AAR Cuda’s performance, you have to love its sense of fun. Black vinyl top, fiberglass black hood with a fresh-air scoop, wheel lip moldings, ducktail spoiler, stripes, and a raised rear end to allow clearance for the side-exit exhaust. Sassy Grass was available mid-year in 1970, alongside another wild color, the also famously “high-impact” Panther Pink.
The 1970 AAR Cuda was a homologation special, put quickly into production so Dan Gurney’s All American Racers could compete in Trans-Am. Under that matte black hood is a street version of the Trans-Am motor—a reinforced 340 with triple Holley two-barrel carbs and an aluminum intake courtesy of Edelbrock. Plymouth rated output at 290 hp and 350 lb-ft of torque. The rear end is a 3.91 Sure Grip, which is a limited-slip setup.
The car’s owner is Joseph Palka, but his friend Bob Miller was there keeping an eye on the Cuda. When new, most examples were handed to dealers with few options to keep MSRP in check, following the expensive and slow-selling Dodge Superbird—another homologation special. Miller told me that about 20-25 percent of cars were instead ordered, like this one, as indicated by the number plate code. Another fun fact: “Chrysler shipped AAR Cudas without the chin spoiler and side exhaust installed, packing them in the trunk for the dealer to attach. This car had its chin spoiler put on wrong. So when the car was restored, we put ‘em on the same way—backwards.”
Having grown up with one in my family, I am partial to Morgans. I loved this Plus Four at Greenwich because it’s clearly used as a driver. That’s not to say it isn’t in good shape—it is—but several features indicate it is enjoyed and regularly exercised.
For one, the 1400cc Triumph TR3 engine is no longer mated to its original four-speed, but rather a Ford five-speed transmission for lower highway revs. Owner James Clements has had the car for 20 years and swapped the gearbox about 10 years back.
Other mechanical work he’s done includes a new aluminum radiator, new gas tank, fresh leaf springs, a stainless steel muffler, new wiring harness, and a new clutch. The engine wears its original SU carburetors, sans air cleaners. (“They don’t fit under the bonnet.”)
Clements takes his Morgan on the highway, where he sports a set of goggles for eye protection. To supplement that, he installed a Brooklands-style windshield that folds into action. “In some ways it works better than the normal one. On I-95 I need to be able to see, and because the car is so small, defensive driving is essential.”
One tool in his toolkit is a two-stage horn, the first a normal volume for around-town usage, the second producing a foghorn-like blare.
“To me, a sports car has to be a roadster,” Clements professed. “Even a Jaguar XKE—I can’t imagine owning one with a top.”
Well, you don’t see this at every concours. Your eyes don’t deceive you, this is indeed an Edsel, specifically a 1958 Citation. It’s a one-year-only model, a two-door convertible based on a Mercury chassis. It was the pinnacle of the Edsel lineup, situated above the Corsair, powered by a 410-cubic-inch (6.7-liter) 345-hp V-8. The transmission was a three-speed automatic, operated by Edsel’s “Teletouch” push-button controls on the steering wheel.
Edsels are usually punchlines, but that’s part of what attracted owner Angela Albanese to the brand. “I’m a fan of underdogs,” she said. “The fact that they stopped making them so soon made it even more attractive. And it’s different-looking.”
Angela explains that she is only recently into the classic car hobby, but that two years ago she was drawn to a friend’s Edsel. She told her father, Steven Albanese, that “If you ever find one in pink” to let her know.
“When you throw that out into the universe,” Steven told me, “strange things happen.”
Lo and behold, a restored, Chalk Pink 1958 Edsel Citation popped up for sale via Hemmings. It had lived in Palm Springs, California, its whole life, and was ready for its next owner.
“I really thought the whole thing was a pipe dream, but when a pink one came up for sale, we felt like we had no choice but to get it!” she exclaimed, a smile filling her face.
“Now I can’t imagine not having it. I don’t know why anyone would drive a new car. Why can’t new cars be like this? Cool, smooth, comfortable.”
Her father agrees: “I like trying to put myself in that period, in the 1950s. But despite being branded as one of auto history’s most spectacular failures, it’s a joy to drive. A real highway cruiser.”
If I were judging, I would have spearheaded a ruthless campaign for this SL to win every award for which it qualified. And I’m not usually a big Mercedes guy. But everything about this car is wonderful, from the richness of the interior to the clarity of the paint and the cleanliness of the engine bay. It stopped me dead in my tracks, despite the somewhat subtle beige-gray hue.
The car’s owner, Eric Blumencranz, was effusive in his praise for the restorers responsible—Germany’s Bechtel Classic Motors. Blumencranz is a major collector (he just bought two 300 SLs) but took particular interest in Bechtel’s recommendation that he consider this 280 SL, the final-ever example of 3700 built with ZF’s five-speed manual transmission.
He bought the car about two years ago, and it’s fresh from an 18-month restoration. Fortunately, it was in great shape at the start. A big reason for that is its provenance—owned by a 55-year career engineer at Mercedes who had it his entire working life, once he could afford it. When the man died, his family sold the car to Blumencranz, who is on his fifth 280-series.
“I also have a 1971 280SE 3.5 that was my mother’s car,” he shared. “The build, the quality, there is no prettier car than the SL. Look at the color combination and the chrome. Nothing drives better than ‘50s and ‘60s Mercedes, and I have had Ferraris and Porsches.”
Blumencranz drove the car up to Greenwich from Long Island. “It was built to drive, so that’s what I do. I drive it.”
Yes it’s a Sony portable TV in the Riviera, I recognized it immediately since I have one. It runs on house power or 12VDC.
I loved working with George at several events. But he never knew when to stop on some of his cars.
I would love to see more of the Riv behind it with the real wire wheels.
I would for Buick to bring back the Villa Riviera.