Classic car impressionism

By Ivan Morgan / July 14, 2023

Most people have a stereotypical idea in their head of the arts community.  I am here to challenge that idea.

There is a huge community of artists in this province who you probably don’t think are artists, and they don’t either. Not in the traditional sense at least. But to me they are.

I refer to the men and women who refurbish antique and classic cars. With summer and the warm(ish) weather we see their work on the streets every day.  What they do goes beyond craftmanship – in many cases I think it is art. Pop art, perhaps, but to my mind art all the same, and the people who create it are artists, or as I like to call them, cartists.

If you ask most people to name artists they will say poets, writers, actors, singers, and painters. People who create beauty and truth with words, actions, and materials.

Which is what these classic car enthusiasts do. Their medium is more chrome, oil, grease and Naugahyde, but anyone can see their passion shine through their work.

And the cars . . . 

I have seen some of the most breathtakingly beautiful restorations and creations cruising the streets of St. John’s, bringing joy to many.

I don’t know much about classic cars, but I do know quite a bit about passion and enthusiasm. Its infectious, and I caught the bug. The love, the work, the vision, and the money that goes into rebuilding – reimagining – a classic car is, to my mind, art.

Their work doesn’t hang in stuffy museums and galleries or lie on the pages of books. Their work is on your street, in your face demanding to be noticed.

You can see rebuilt, remodelled cars on the Northeast Avalon ranging from cars from the 1930s to more modern times. You know you are old when the car you drove for your driver’s test is now considered an antique. In my case it was a 1972 olive green two door eight-cylinder Ford Brougham LTD.  What a boat of a car! I am pretty sure I could fit the Yaris I drive today inside it.

If art is designed to stir emotions, classic car builders are brilliant artists. A few years ago, I was eating fast food when two young fellows in an LTD pulled up outside. I embarrassed myself by running out, gushing over the car, and asking if I could sit behind the wheel. Laughing, the two lads indulged me. Hard to believe a 16-year-old me took a driver’s test in such a whale of a car in downtown Toronto – and passed!

A quick story to torment any local classic car lovers who may read this.

A while back we took a dear friend out to her hometown on a day trip (she has no car). While there she checked in on a family property. She was upset at the state of it. I was gently trying to get her to leave, when she looked at me and said, “I just have to check the car.”

Car? Okay. We walked out to an old garage, only to find the lock broken. No worries, it came apart in her hands. I followed her into the musty gloom. To my astonishment, there, sitting on blocks, was a powder blue 1968 GMC Rambler Rebel. I was gobsmacked. I am no expert, but I have picked up a few pointers from experts. I knew this was a gem. Original paint, original upholstery on bench seats; hell, original everything! I didn’t write down the odometer, but it was low. As I stood there speechless, she told me it was owned by her uncle, who drove it to church and little else.

She says it’s been sitting there over 20 years.

Yes, my e-mail is at the bottom of this column. No, I won’t tell you where it is. The family has plans for it.

I know it needs a good home and some TLC, so it can bring joy to people.

I am working on it.

Ivan Morgan can be reached at ivan.morgan@gmail.com