Sept. 30, 1977: Custom artwork for custom vans
Another slice of life served up in a Gusto cover story.
Sept. 30, 1977
Trouble
Is, Unlike Picasso,
They Can Dent Your Artwork
The urge to paint one’s wagon goes
back to man’s discovery that he could extend his personality by rolling it
about on wheels. From that moment on, history has abounded with gorgeously
appointed carriages. Napoleon had his brocade and his matched horses. Diamond
Jim Brady’s personal railroad car was the last word in elegant travel. The
automotive age evolved from pin-striping to flames to metalflake creations
floating in oceans of angel hair at custom car shows.
But then
“A lot of people would rather spend
$500 for a painting on their van,” says van muralist Bill Horbachewski, “than
spend $150 on a painting for their living room.”
Mr. H., as he signs his work, is a
school art teacher who lives just outside
Painting the WonderVan consumed all of
Mr. H.’s Easter vacation. He put the tea party on the front,
“After I got all the characters laid
out,” he says, “I made a road going between them. The road turns into tree
branches. Trees turn into mushrooms. I wanted it to have a fantasy look.”
Less than 10 years ago, Mr. H. had one
of his mechanistic paintings exhibited in the
That brought him in contact with a
cycle customizer. Since many cycle enthusiasts are vanners too, it wasn’t long
before they asked him to do their trucks. This year he’s painted more than half
a dozen. He likes the idea of having the highway as his gallery.
Many van artists simply copy
illustrations from other sources, like album covers and posters. Mr. H. says he’s
seen countless magazine photos of truck emblazoned with reproductions of Frank
Frazetta’s grisly, gripping Gothic warriors. He prefers to take a client’s
concepts and rework them artistically.
He begins work by washing the van and
removing the wax. Next comes an enamel reducer. Finally he wet-sands – first with
320-grit paper, then with 400-grit sheets. The prepared section is then taped
off and the painting begins.
Sometimes he shoots an opaque
projection at the truck and outlines it. Other times, he sketches freehand with
his airbrush. For a large scene, he’ll paint the background, then apply a clear
coat of lacquer and wet-sand. For the mid-ground, foreground and detail work,
the same procedure follows.
His current project is his own van, a ’74
Dodge Tradesman that had a dented right side when he bought it last summer. He
was toying with the thought of death of the highway when he saw the film “Star
Wars.” His death figure became Darth Vader, who rallies all the bad guys on the
left side of the van. All the good folks will show up on the right. Already
people are stopping to take pictures of it.
“The kids don’t want to ride in the
LTD any more,” his wife observes. “They all want to ride in ‘Star Wars.’” The
LTD sits with a for-sale sign in its window.
“The back I haven’t decided on yet,”
Mr. H. says. “Maybe I’ll use the tunnel, with the spaceships and the guys
shooting at each other. You can overdo something like this, though. You have to
know when to stop.”
Since Mr. H. plans on selling “Star
Wars” eventually, he won’t be doing anything fancy with the interior. Most
vanners want to put their personal decorating touches inside. Commonly, floors,
walls and ceilings are carpeted. Wine racks, refrigerators and sound systems
are installed. At the rear goes a curtained-off cubicle for a bed, often with a
skylight over it. Such is the layout of Joel Smith’s van.
Joel’s van is so cozy it’s unlikely he’ll
need to find an apartment when he leaves his native Springville to go live in
Rich, a natural handyman, painted one
of the first automotive murals in the
Jon collected a heap of auto show
trophies in the late ‘60s for his green Pontiac GTO, nicknamed “The Green
Tambourine.” His mini-pickup truck sports flames on its front fenders.
“I like a lot of flames,” he says. “I’m
trying to bring them back.”
Owning a rolling work of art isn’t the
same as owning a Picasso, though. Not long after Jon put a mural on his wife’s
car, someone backed into it. Joel says he parks at the deserted end of parking
lots, lest someone cracks his paint with their car door.
“I know how it is,” says Rich. “The
first year, you’re really careful. Then somebody in a parking lot opens a door
and bang, you’ve got chips in it. Then after you cry half a dozen nights, it
gets to be just another mural.”
* *
* * *
IN
THE PHOTO: The
* *
* * *
FOOTNOTE:
The photo on Bill Horbachewski’s Facebook page shows him and his wife Pat in a
bright blue mid-1960s vintage Corvette with no custom paintwork on it at all.
His page also informs us that he was an art teacher at
Comments
Post a Comment