Author Archives: Robin

About Robin

Occasional painter. Golfer. Fascinated by humanity. Passionate about beautiful stuff, the people who create it and its narrative.

The Remastered Mini by David Brown

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The Remastered Mini by David Brown 1

Today’s depressing BBC Brexit bafflegab-farce forces me to seek something positive. The Geneva Motor Show is, as ever, vast and glitzy. Aston-Martin rubs shoulders with Honda ; Bugatti with Skoda. There are custom cars, concept cars, electronic cars, driverless cars and even flying cars. Each alluringly lit stand is wo/manned by smiling – smart and knowledgable representatives. I cruise around seeking that single jewel; that stuff so beautiful that I have to talk about it. And there it is; the Mini Remastered. Albion’s little giant reborn, roaring and rearing to go. If this motorshow is some foreign field then the corner that is forever England is David Brown Automotive.

The Remastered Mini by David Brown 2

A surprising and rare wave of patriotic sentiment ignites an Austin Powered recall of the first car I ever drove together with images of Mr Bean and the voice of Michael Caine in The Italian Job “You Were Only Supposed To Blow The Bloody Doors Off!” I smile. Here at last is something uplifting from the land of hope and glory. This Brit’s day has just got frabjous.

The Remastered Mini by David Brown 3

These little chariots of fire are beautifully conceived and flawlessly finished. They are even more charming than Sir Alec Issigonis’ classic original. I love the fusion of the 1960s iconic image with contemporary design and build. However, they are not simply constructed in the spirit of the Mini. Each has a “donor” Mini – included in the final price – out of which are taken the engine and gear box; these are remastered so keeping the all-important chassis number. The rest of the vehicle is lovingly constructed around them.

The Remastered Mini by David Brown 4

The company emphasises the sculpted body-coloured wheel arch extensions; a flawlessly finished four-week hand- applied paint process; centrally-mounted exhaust outlets; handcrafted badges using traditional die-sinking enamel techniques; jewel-like LED rear light clusters and indicators framed by bespoke aluminium surrounds; chrome bullet-style door-mounted wing mirrors with integrated LED puddle lamps; a premium infotainment system, operated via a 7″ touchscreen interface as the centre piece of in-car connectivity; full-grain, British-sourced leather upholstery; elegant knurled aluminium gear stick and classic Mota-Lita® steering wheel. Cripes, Bunter! An arrow of desire might end up costing the pierced enthusiast 70,000 guineas! A Mini, a Mini! My kingdom for a Mini!

The Remastered Mini by David Brown 5

Keep calm and carry on! The Mini, as Jeeves observed of Shakespeare, gives universal satisfaction. I wander around the show. Nothing else spikes my interest in quite the same way. The Remastered Minis are victorious, happy and glorious. Cool Britannia! Twist and shout!

The Remastered Mini by David Brown 6

The Geneva sun slopes down to rest now day is done. The Minis are tucked in for a well-earned snooze. Their bed-time story is Peter Rabbit read by Mary Poppins. (Chuffin’ Nora! Get a grip, man!)

Lest we forget, the name’s Brown… David Brown. 

“And the EU negotiators, Ma’am?” A pause. Pursed lips. “Make it look like an accident, Double-O Seven!”

Photos by Bertrand Godfried and Isaac Griberg.

Discarded Hollywood Glamour

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Neighbours moved away yesterday. They must have dropped a picture and left it on the street. Familiar faces catch my eye; one in particular always gets me thinking.

Discarded Hollywood Glamour 1

I separate the damp poster from its smashed frame and lay it on the pavement. The photo is at once charming and amusing; it was taken at the premier of “How to marry a millionaire” in 1953. I love the interactive snap-shot-moment of these three stars.

Discarded Hollywood Glamour 2

Lauren Bacall seems to be admiring – and tolerating with good humour – her husband, Humphrey Bogart, who is clearly admiring something else. I imagine that he has just wise-cracked something risqué to Marilyn about some juicy titbit that he has eaten and the need to wipe his fingers afterwards. And then of course, there’s Marilyn, the greatest female icon ever, just lapping up all the attention.

Everyone would know that smile. Not everyone would know of her courageous stand and work for women in the male-dominated Hollywood of the day. Few would know that after her death, investigators’ photos of her lying in her bed were published. Worse still, mortuary photos of her awaiting a post-mortem examination were likewise published. I know of no other celebrity whose person has suffered this particular violation of privacy nor been the subject of such a gross breach of medical ethics. I find it sad that such a bright star should die with such indignity.

The Lonely Planet at Terre Blanche

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The Lonely Planet at Terre Blanche 1

Terre Blanche Golf Resort describes itself as a “Land of Inspiration in Provence.” In my mind, a reasonable claim. Even though it’s the French equivalent of Saint Andrews, I’m not only here for the golf. The club house and elegant surroundings are crammed with stylish contemporary sculpture. And big names too. However, despite the best efforts of the helpful staff, nobody can tell me the provenance of something that really captures my attention: a huge silver-steel-shiney orb sitting among some stunted oak trees that line the path down to the first tee. It is entirely out of place and all the more intriguing as a result.

The Lonely Planet at Terre Blanche 2

The object’s surface is covered with randomly spaced indentations of varying size; they are clearly meant to recall craters. It reminds of the first time I used a high powered telescope to look at the moon the surface of which is entirely covered by evidence of asteroid impacts. I read once about the “impact events” that have affected planet earth. Apparently, every 500,000 years an asteroid of more than 1km collides with earth; one of over 10 kilometres hits us every 20 million years (and extinguishes most life forms.) The reason that these craters are less obvious on earth as compared with the moon and other planets is simply because of water; many hit the sea and the signs of those that have had a terrestrial impact are slowly ground down by atmospheric erosion and plant life.

Fascinated, I wander around this lonely planet. I lay on a hand; the brilliant surface is smooth and very cold. On touching it with the tip of my nose, I detect a faint but definite metallic odour. I tap this beautiful sphere with my knuckles and am treated to a deep and distant resonant clang; it’s not a forest noise. Finding this sculpture here, completely discordant with it’s earthly surroundings, augments the other-worldly feel it gives out. Form and placement together result in an immensely satisfying piece of work. Does anyone know whose work it is? Or did it fall from the sky?