Graphically, I prefer the 1961 version, but everything-else-ly, I prefer the 2009.
Category: Grand Prix
What a marvelously composed shot this is of Pedro Rodriguez’s BRM P133 at the 1968 British GP at Brands Hatch. You almost couldn’t plan it better: the balance of the reds between the distinctive BRM nose stripe and the pit crew’s coveralls and gas can; the excellent contrast of the team from the background crowd; the angle of Pedro’s #10 and the orientation of the car’s angle in the frame. The nice prominence of the BRM logo on the nose. If there were such a thing at the time, this shot would make a great advertisement for the team.
Unfortunately for Pedro, the race preparation pictured here might not have been as perfect as he’d have liked. Not only was he stuck in position 13 of the grid that weekend, but engine failure forced him out of the race after 52 laps.
Faster ≠ More Interesting
Ok. That’s a LOT faster. But watching cars with short lap times not pass each other isn’t exactly gripping entertainment. I’m not 100% sold on modern GT Racing either, but at least the cars seem to be more evenly matched.
Just a Bit Closer
I’d sure like to see this guy’s footage.
There are dozens of reasons why this image of the grid of the Grand Prix at Reims in 1954 is astounding. I love how simple, almost bucolic, the facilities appear. In this crop, you can’t see the grandstands or pits crowding the grid; making it almost look like the track is in an otherwise empty field. The grid itself is amazing. That’s Fangio (#18) on pole with Kling in the other Mercedes (#20), with Ascari’s Maser (#10) on the front row.
The thing I like most about it, however, is that this single image captures something fundamental about Formula 1 racing that has been spectacularly lost and is unlikely to return: a unique voice from each manufacturer in the design of their racing car. The variety of the design of the machinery on this grid is obvious. The enclosed wheels of the streamliner Mercedes machines is the most immediate example of that, but the rest of the field shows the personalities of each maker shining through as well. This era when the lines between a Formula car and a sportscar were blurred is sorely missed.
The Mercedes machines ran away with it from the start, marking their spectacular return to Grand Prix racing.
Details on the race at eMercedesBenz.
The Real Championship
Stirling Moss, Dan Gurney, Graham Hill and Jackie Stewart take up their controllers. How great is this?
My favorite thing about this (and there are many) is the second picture. Stirling, Graham, and Jackie all look to be having a terrific time. Gurney is deadly serious. The competitive spirit just never lets up.
I wonder where that trophy is today.
I blame the tracks. Sure, you could zoom in nice and tight with a telephoto lens that you need 2 assistants to help you hold steady, but this shot of Von Tripps at the ’58 German GP must have been taken with the photographer’s toes on the track. You just can’t replicate the immediacy and drama that close proximity provides.
Being able to see his face sure helps too.
Clark Takes a Drive Through Bologna
Matt at Hell For Motors hipped us to this marvelous clip of Clark at Imola. The lack of audio is heartbreaking, but you’ll make it through somehow.
A local commenter on YouTube points out what should be obvious, but always seems to be overlooked: How startlingly different from the modern Imola this is—which has just undergone another round of updates in the past few years. Much more like a drive in the country than the contemporary, sterile, track. When does the movement to backdate racetracks start? Where can I sign up to help?
1964 F1 Cockpits Compared
In October 1964, Road & Track published a marvelous comparison of the season’s Grand Prix cars as the drivers see them. It’s interesting to see the variety of subtle differences in both instrument layout and the hints at differences in construction. Notice the cramped quarters of the Ferrari 156 with it’s aluminum fuel tanks encroaching closely on the drivers hips versus the relatively roomy frame of the Cooper. Similarly, check out the even spacing between instruments in Clark’s Lotus 24, each with a small attached label versus Gurney’s Brabham tighter, more random, cluster with hand painted instrument labels looking very low tech, shade-tree hot rodder. As pointed out in the original article, it’s interesting that John Cooper seems to have greater trust in his drivers than the other teams, as indicated by the lack of a shift gate (although I don’t see one on the Brabham either).
Scans of the complete article at Manitouguy’s Blog.
Following up on yesterday’s legend of the Mille Miglia train crossing post, and building upon last year’s post about the incident, I’ve recently stumbled upon more photos of Hans crashing his BRM at the end of one of the long straights at AVUS. The crash at the 1959 German Grand Prix is well known, but while searching for images for yesterday’s post I found these that I’ve not seen before. I didn’t know that the crash was captured at other angles. I’ve seen the photo of Hans crouched beneath the tumbling BRM many times, but these other angles give an even greater impression of how truly close—and how truly lucky—Hans was.
It is not these photos that are the great testament to his bravery, but that he ever got in a racing car again.