BULGARI COLLECTION
Nicola Bulgari, of jewellery fame, collects overlooked American cars. Some are in his native Rome, many live in this Pennsylvania collection
The jewels in the crown might surprise you
These were the ground rules. ‘You can do an article on my collection; not an article on me, because nobody will care. But you must be sure to write that the origin of car style, design and engineering was in America. What the USA was capable of creating in those areas between 1920 and 1942 is simply unbelievable. It drives me crazy that something so amazing and important is becoming more and more forgotten, even by American collectors.’
You would expect such words to come from the mouth of the most radical of American car collectors, so you might be surprised to learn that they were actually uttered by an internationally educated, highly successful Italian entrepreneur: 76-year-old Nicola Bulgari. Born in Rome in 1941, the grandson of the founder of the jewellery firm bearing his surname spent the immediate post-war years peering through the windows of the family apartment, in the upperclass area of Parioli, to watch the cars of the embassies or Vatican City passing by. Most were American sedans and limousines, which imprinted themselves firmly on the young Bulgari mind.
Before the war, American car-production numbers were astonishing. In 1929, for example, the USA built five million cars while the whole of the rest of the world managed 500,000. Many American cars were assembled in Britain during pre-war years, and because Buick had a factory in Ontario, Canada, which was then part of the British Empire, it could export cars to the Commonwealth countries without paying import duties. In 1933 Railton created the first AngloAmerican car, based on a Hudson chassis and engine. Browsing through advertisements in 1930s English car magazines soon reveals the extent of the success.
Then America lost the advantage. ‘With their victory in the war,’ says Signor Nicola, as Mr Bulgari is called by everybody in the car world, ‘Americans lost their heads. Their cars became bigger and bigger, they derailed themselves with the fin craziness and an always-decreasing build quality. It took them decades to recover from that disaster.’
In 1959, as soon he was old enough to drive (18 years old in Italy), Signor Nicola bought his first car. It was a pre-war Fiat Balilla four-speed, very used, which was soon followed by another Fiat, a 509 Torpedo.
With his third purchase, though, the dream of owning an American car became real. In 1961 he
‘A stroke of luck comes in 2011 when the big lot facing the shop, an old drive-in cinema, is offered for sale’
became the proud owner of a two-door Buick 37, which was originally registered to the Italian Ambassador in Ottawa, Canada, who brought it back to Italy with him.
‘It was registered with a very old number plate, something like ROMA 59.000. When I bought it for 50,000 lire (about €25 today) several owners later, it was re-registered as ROMA 126.500. I kept it until 1980, when I had to sell it because I needed money, but I know that it is still alive and well in the Rome area.’
A decade later the Bulgari collection of American cars was a reality, occupying a garage in Rome. The idea was to preserve examples of mass-produced American cars from 1920 to 1948, once commonplace but now in danger of disappearing, so future generations could envisage what once had been. But, as often happens, destiny planned something different. Today the American division of the NB (Nicola Bulgari) Collection, located in Allentown, Pennsylvania, in the USA, has grown far beyond the original idea.
‘The Allentown site,’ says Signor Nicola, ‘has come together through an amazing series of circumstances. Most likely if we had planned all of them, something would have gone wrong and we could not have done what we have done.’ So, what happened?
In 1996 Signor Nicola bought a 1942 Buick Special Estate Wagon Model 49 from an American friend and car collector living in Allentown, the late Bernie Berman. Just three examples were known to exist, and this one needed some restoration work. The seller suggested a visit to a local workshop run by the Flickinger brothers, Keith and Kris.
Fast forward several years and, thanks to the quality of their work and their deep knowledge, the Flickinger
brothers and their workshop are engaged full-time on projects for Mr Bulgari. His collection, located in buildings he has bought close by, is growing. A stroke of luck comes in 2011 when the big lot facing the shop, an old drive-in cinema, is offered for sale. It is big, but the market value is low after the financial crisis. So Signor Nicola is able to buy it to use as the American headquarters of his collection and to fulfil his dream of creating space for training young specialists. He asks the Flickinger brothers to work for him, with Kris as restoration manager of the whole collection, supervising a team of about 10 people.
‘If we don’t show these cars to the younger generation, we’ll lose the passion for them,’ says Signor Nicola. ‘If we don’t train young people in working on these cars we’ll lose them, because we will lose the knowledge of them. In every area of the human spectrum, when something is lost it’s lost forever. This is the reason why Allentown is structured to be a training centre for students in every area of the motor collection, with a mechanics’ shop, a body centre and another for upholstery. We host trainees from schools and workshops all over the world, and they can work with experienced people.’
He warms to his theme. ‘We love the HVA’s project [Historic Vehicles of America, the North American branch of FIVA] of creating an archive of all the vital information about a car, which is then deposited in the Library of Congress. We’ve allocated a space inside our premises for them to work on this programme, and we provide technical support to the local museum, American Wheels.’
Today almost everything needed for a restoration is managed in-house, with only chroming, and the
machining of engines or other mechanical components, done outside. Electrics are rewired on-site, mostly by a technician from Rome, after the most challenging part of the process – supplying the right cables in the correct colours and materials – has been resolved. It’s just one example of the continuous exchange of people, parts and experience between Rome and Allentown.
Other materials require a different approach. ‘Our nightmare, in every restoration, is the interior,’ says Signor Nicola. ‘We tend to keep as much as possible of the original, cleaning and repairing it as needed. Sometimes, though, after researching every possible source, the only solution we are left with is to manufacture what we need. When we have to make new fabrics, the minimum order required is definitely bigger than we really need, but we do it anyway. We always hope that one day we’ll have another car that uses the same material, or that we’ll be asked for it by another collector restoring a similar car.
‘It amazes me, when I see friends restoring their classic Ferraris, how almost everything is available, even though only a few tens of examples were built. I have to hunt for everything and rebuild components of cars that were built in the hundreds of thousands. Usually the final cost of restoration is quite similar to that of the Ferraris, so I smile when I hear somebody complaining that the cost of a restoration is close to the value of the car. For us it’s normal that the cost of restoration is bigger than the market value of the car.’
It’s not just the restoration work that makes managing the collection a challenge. Bulgari has a rule that a car has to be ready to use unless it’s undergoing some work. ‘Driving my cars is what I like the most,’ he says, ‘and luckily for me the crew understands this feeling because it is theirs, too. I don’t go to Allentown as often as I’d like, but when I go I take a car out for a drive, then I take another, and another, and another. It is my personal regeneration, and when other friends join in it is yet more fun.’
Buick is the most-represented brand in the collection, simply because it is the favourite brand of Signor Nicola, who has an especially soft spot for the Series 90. ‘I buy the cars I like, usually humble cars built about ten years before the Second World War. They were the cars – like the Series 40 or 50, affordable, reliable, refined, comfortable and beautiful to drive – that created the mass movement of people, ideas and goods. My favourite vintage is 1932 to 1935, when they became lower and faster.
‘For me, the easiest car to drive is a 1941 Buick, the 1934/35 Buicks offered the best package, and the best gearbox is from Buick’s 1938 model year. I adore originality. I love to buy cars that are preserved and that can be kept as they are, or need less work than a full restoration, but it is becoming more and more difficult to find them.’
Only when you ask about the future does Mr Bulgari’s voice betray some indecision: ‘I know we are just at the beginning, that a lot still needs to be done. In 15 years from now, I hope somebody else will take my legacy and move it forward.
‘If I look at the Smithsonian Museum, I feel sad. They collect everything about space and aeroplanes because of the funds they receive from aircraft companies, but they do nothing about cars. There is still a lot to do to promote these magnificent objects.’
They say that if you can dream it, you can do it. Looking at Allentown and the concentration of energy and knowledge it contains, it is very easy to believe in that as you imagine the nine-year-old Nicola looking out from his Rome window, dreaming.
‘Everything is available for classic Ferraris, even though only tens of examples were built. I have to hunt for everything for cars built in thousands’