Concerning "The Flame";
I have a slightly different perspective (naturally) on the issue of "keeping the flame" and the origins, or the "spark" that was ignited within some of us. Oddly enough, my situation did not include any tours of Italian frame shops back in the day. My only visit to any Italian builder would be the brief and unsatisfying stop at the Vigorelli in about '76 or '77 to visit Masi. Fortunately that visit did not change my personal attitude towards building bike frames. Having worked with Faliero Masi and Mario Confente, and MORE importantly Ron Smith at Masi, Carlsbad in the flesh; I already knew that Italians are just like regular people, except they hide an inferiority complex beneith their bravado. That is not to say Italians are inferior, they are not; they just can't live up to the Gods that they sometimes make themselves out to be.
I had very little contact or romantic notions about the "magic" involved in framebuilding. I did not aspire to be like any Italian (or other) framebuilder or company. My original feeling was that two persons was the ideal number of people for a frame shop. Hence, Wizard Cycles. By far my greatest influence in striveing for superior frames came from Ron Smith at Masi; the Italians actually intended to prevent anyone from learning too much. Obviously the Italians had seen zillions of "apprentices" leave the fold and start their own business. Masi worked at Gloria in his formative years; I'm not positive about Mario, but I've heard he worked for Bianchi before starting his own small shop in Verona. By the time I left Masi I knew two things; there was NO magic in framebuilding and anyone with reasonable motor skills could be taught the basics of filing and other framebuilding operations. Second, that Masi represented a high level of small production frames, but there was one level (actually two) above that. From the very beginning of my involvement in framebuilding I did very little, if any "planning". My speciality in life is finding what I am natural at and refine it. It comes out in the way I ride, how I play the drums, and how I build frames. No Italian role model neccessary. I like to be creative within the boundries of the craft and find no satisfaction in producing a certain model frame that is supposed to be the ultimate for every rider. The only way to accomplish the ultimate frame is to meld the rider to the design through the experience of the framebuilder. The more knowledge of different frames, the more experiences one has, the better equipt they are to build frames that are an extention of the owner of the bike as opposed to an extention of the framebuilders own preferences. Toss out standard lug patterns and other fittings, be willing to make more than just a racing bike, and that is the deffination of a "Custom Framebuilder".
I would also like to mention that in probably the majority of cases, what became a bigger production oriented company was originally a one or two person hands on workshop. Masi began that way. After learning the craft, as did countless others he started his own shop. The difference here is that some of us in the US never progressed into a larger operation, but many have. The few one person survivors are those who actually enjoy making the product, who find DEEP satisfaction in making things, and are not oriented towards profit and traditional business formulas (to various degrees). There are levels of this within the "artisan framebuilder" community. The lower the output, the more "artisan" the builder is and less the businessman. There are increments of seperation even within the small faction of "custom framebuilders".
I can say this for myself regarding "keeping the flame". Over the past 30 years I have gone through a few girations related to my purpose and intentions in framebuilding. It has been difficult to survive and at times I would have jumped ship if there was ANYTHING else I could do. But one thing has remained constant internally from my earliest beginnings in framebuilding. I have always wanted to build the very best frame I am capable of. From my very first frame I started to develop skills beyond what I learned at Masi. I already had a trememdous advantage as a start on account of having filing, minor brazing, and basic painting skills when I left Masi. But the thing that turned me in a different direction than building a "custom production bike", (one where all frames look alike but are made to a few custom dimentions), was again Ron Smith. He enlightened me to the joys of developing "themes" on the frame that not only brings artistry and design to the bike, but is what seperates one builders' work from others because now the frames, each and every one, are unique and have character. He also taught me to explore different "styles" of frames. There is a lot more to the world of framebuilding than bikes that look like Masis. The English style, the French style; all have basic features that are exciting to learn how to replicate and/or improve upon. Ron set me on a path of maintaining themes and continuiously searching for new ways to "decorate" frames. More importantly, he instilled in me that even in simple designs there is artistry. Curves and perportions can make or break a design (ask Chuck) and super clean work done well is every bit the accomplishment, actually MUCH more, that a elaborate and even artistic design executed poorly. I have seen this demonstrated on countless occassions.
But I digress. The construction of the frame is the most important aspect of framebuilding. Decorations are iceing on the cake but do not factor into the soundness of the frame design or construction techniques. Again, much of what I learned in the beginning came from Masi. But in order to improve on the construction methods of one of the most reknown names in the business, one has to revert to "non-production" type thinking and begin a long string of refinements of the craft that in many ways are too subtle to detect by nonbuilders. It is here that business flies out the window. All framebuilders know that if you aren't building a frame in 15 to 20 hours then you might as well give up. From a business standpoint that is true. Odds are you will give up or die trying if you continue to dump time into frames beyond that point. The details of finish and construction rapidly enter a point of diminishing returns when one begins to think in terms of doing EVERY single operation, of which there are hundreds on the frame, to the absolute best of your ability. What this means is that for 30 years I have been learning how to improve the overall frame in very subtle ways; but when multiplied by hundreds of steps this becomes VERY time consuming. The result is a frame that in it's basic form takes 60 hours minimum to build. It takes longer to build a frame now than it did in the past; the reverse of what one would expect. As a business it is a disaster. But in terms of keeping the flame, I believe that is the deffinition.
Bikes have evolved over the past 30 years and so have I. My most recent change which happened about the time I glommed onto this list, was to rebel against the "industry" in general which I find "out of control" in regards to marketing and product development. That is not to say the industry is bad; it's just simply not for me. I detest "marketing trends" and planned obsolescence which the majority of the industry is engaged in. In my little world the only thing that exists is a stronger passion to defy the homoginization of the bicycle frame. I have been frozen in time (and my visions of beautiful handmade frames) for a long time. I realized recently that virtually no one in framebuilding is where I'm at. I decided to focus the rest of my framebuilding carrer on building bikes from traditional pressed lugs and vintage standard diameter tubing for the specific purpose of keeping alive the actual craft of framebuilding the way I fell in love with it. There will be a few special instances where I will apply traditional craftsmanship to a few frames built with oversized tubing. The time when bikes had paint jobs, when bikes were CAREFULLY handmade by someone who was there for more than just a job; that's what I'm after. When pride of workmanship was enough pay to feed the soul. For me it still is. One must make sacrifices and suffer to make this happen. One must be more concerned about the future generations who will never see the origins of what the bicycle has become except through the work of persons like myself. Many of us did it many years ago; very few are doing it still. Fewer yet are locked into what style and grace was originally part of a handmade bike frame and refuse to follow the market.
A facsimile of the flame does not do it for me. The true spark from within, unwavering and determined; that's for me. To continue to explore "traditional" framebuilding in all of it's forms; be it a track bike, a road or touring frame, a tandem or triplet, or a racing trike; I intend to make the best of the best. I always have. To do this requires willingness to learn and improve and to not rest on the laurels of the past. An open mind that is not tempeted to stray into marketing trends, one who is willing to illuminate the past through current works; one for whom the word compromise does not exist, could be considered a keeper of the flame.
What we "idolized" in the masters of the past was a relative thing. At the time of our entrance into the world of handmade frames they represented the peak. As I look at the frames that filter through my shop it is clear that none of them are built to the standards of any current top class framebuilder, American or otherwise. Part of the "myth" that all of us accepted to some degree was in fact just that. Not neccessarily in a bad way, either. But the craft of traditional framebuilding was advanced largely by American builders operating under a certain amount of inspiration fueled by these myths. The result, which is now nearly extinct, are what we now call keepers of the flame. The more pure the better in my opinion.
Brian Baylis La Mesa, CA Please accept my humble apologies for being woefully inadequate at expressing my deepest feelings on this matter.
>
> In a message dated 2/9/2003 7:08:16 PM Eastern Standard Time, Jon3084@aol.com
> writes:
>
> << is the flame we so cherish really only just a part of our hobby and
> not a part of the original business model for the small builders some of us
> may idolize? >>
>
> I think there are plenty examples of Luigi making the bikes themselves.
> Sure there are workshops where the guy sits in the front office, like
> Hetchins, Claud Butler, Bob Jackson, later Masi & Colnago, DeRosa, Eddy
> Merckx, etc.
>
> But there are also craftsmen who had their hands in it (especially in their
> early days) like Bill Hurlow, Routens, Rene Herse, Albert Eisentraut, Pop
> Brennan, Harry Quinn, HR Morris, Les Ephgrave, Silvano Grandis, Francesco
> Galmozzi, Irio Tommasini, Sante Pogliaghi, etc.
>
> In fact, like modern Keepers of the Flame builders (the guys on this list),
> the most valued bikes by people with a refined sensibility and knowledge of
> the tradition will be those actually made by the guy/gal whose name is on the
> downtube....
>
> Dale Brown
> Greensboro, North Carolina