samedi 23 novembre 2013
Driving the Nissan BladeGlider Concept
November 19, 2013 8:30 PM
To be clear, I did not drive the Nissan BladeGlider concept. What I did drive was Nissan's proof-of-concept behind the BladeGlider: a test mule mocked up with a similar narrow-front-track suspension arrangement. It's meant to demonstrate the virtues of this unconventional setup to Nissan engineers and executives, and a handful of journalists.
Let me be clear on another point: This car changes everything—forget what you thought you knew about sports car handling.
For example: At Nissan's Arizona proving grounds, I'm driving a conventional Ariel Atom for the second time. It feels skittish after driving the narrow-front-track prototype, and I'm cornering much slower. Coming out of the tight left-hand turn on the test course, I can actually see and feel that the inside tire isn't providing much grip, which is why the car won't respond as eagerly as I want. But here's the crazy thing: Without having driven the Nissan narrow-front-track prototype, I would never have thought this was a problem. It was just a normal part of a car's cornering limits—even a crazy performance car. After just a few minutes behind the wheel of the proof-of-concept prototype, I realize I have to re-wire my brain to understand what's possible.
Conventional wisdom says that a wide track is essential for stability, and that putting as much tire as possible at all four corners results in the best handling and grip. But as Bowlby is about to show me, that's not always the case. He says that the key behind the narrow-front-track concept is balancing the tires to the weight of the car.
To demonstrate, in front of me are two Ariel Atoms, an open wheel track-day car with an exposed frame, open cockpit, and midmounted 230-hp engine. One is totally stock. The other has the front track narrowed from 63 inches to a skinny 39.4 (the same as in the concept car). In place of the side-by-side stock seats, the test mule has a single, center-mounted racing bucket. The radiators have been moved rearward to help shift the weight distribution to about 29:71 front to rear, compared with 37:63 in the stock car. Bowlby's team also added an adjustable rear antiroll bar. And, of course, they changed the tires—from 195/50R-15 in front and 205/55R-15 in rear to 155/50R-15 front and 245/40R17 rear. The total contact patch for both cars is the same, but the altered car has all-season Continental ContiProContact rubber because they couldn't find high-performance tires in such a narrow size.
Bowlby is careful to point out that the demonstration car has nothing to do with the BladeGlider, or the production car that it will spawn (or the Ariel, for that matter). It's merely a way to demonstrate the ride and handling of a narrow-front-track car.
The altered car looks so odd compared with anything else on four wheels, I can't wrap my head around the idea. Bowlby suggests I drive the cars before any explanation colors my initial impression. I start in the conventional car. Nissan has a small course of cones set up on a vast swath of pavement. I take a few laps to warm up, slowly increasing my speed. On lap three, I spin in a sweeping left corner after suddenly lifting off the gas. The Atom is a serious car—highly responsive but also very sensitive to the driver's inputs. Get a little too ambitious, and you can get into trouble.
Baseline impressions completed, I hop into the narrow-front-track car (unfortunately, Nissan doesn't yet have a better name for this idea). It takes a couple of laps to get used to the fact that the car is much wider at the rear, but I avoid the embarrassment of clipping any cones. After a hard acceleration to about 100 mph, I hammer on the brakes. The altered car is obviously much more stable under deceleration. There are no antilock brakes on either car, but it's easy to modulate the pedal in the altered prototype right at the edge of the tires' grip. I spin again on the third lap, but this time nearly on purpose, after several loops around a circular skidpad trying to drift the back end of the car.
The difference between the two cars is stunning. It's hard to believe they share so much hardware. In the standard car, driving at the limit is a tricky balancing act between understeer (which is when the front end become unresponsive) and oversteer (which is when the back starts to come around on you). Nobody would ever suggest that a stock Ariel Atom is unresponsive, but the altered car drives like it's hard-wired into your brain. After just five laps around the improvised course, I'm converted.
Even with that firsthand experience, I can't wrap my brain around why the narrow-front-track works so well. It still looks unnatural, though the physics behind it are sound. "Form following function," is a phrase that peppers Bowlby's explanation. The narrow front drastically reduces drag, which leads to better energy efficiency. And with all the weight and tires shifted toward the rear, the car can accelerate almost as well as a four-wheel-drive car.
As for the handling, the narrow front track actually makes plenty of sense when you look at it closely. When a conventional car turns around a corner, the outside front tire takes a path that is much wider than the inside tire. Most cars use a trick known as Ackerman geometry to solve this problem and turn the inside tire more sharply. When you reduce the front track to 40 inches or less, the front tires essentially follow the same path. That means there's no need for Ackerman steering, and because the tires also share cornering loads evenly, tricks to balance out the grip side-to-side with a geometry setup are also unnecessary. The altered prototype I'm driving has zero toe and camber on the front tires. As an added benefit, the tires wear more evenly.
But with skinny front tires and so much weight on the rear, how does the car actually turn? It seems counterintuitive, but the light front end makes the car more responsive. With the center of gravity shifted rearward, there's very little inertia involved in going around a corner. Or, as Bowlby puts it, you're not dragging the center of gravity through a corner. It's somewhat akin to if you lay a sledgehammer on a table—the light end moves easily while the heavy head acts as a pivot point.
Surely, though, the weakness of the narrow front track is bumps, right? Actually, a natural assumption is wrong again. The light front allows for softer springs and less roll stiffness, which give the car more compliance over rough surfaces. Conventional cars adjust to the road from four points, so if one wheel goes over a bump it tries to twist the rest of the suspension in response. The narrow front track is more like a three-legged bar stool: The tires are always in the same plane so it's never uneven and never has to fight against itself. It's a tough idea to grasp, but Bowlby says the key is balancing the weight, grip, and roll stiffness. "Strangely enough, the triangular layout gives you a very consistent and coherent balance in the car. And that was a very unexpected discovery."
Not even Bowlby knew that a narrow-front-track car would be a success. "I don't think that anybody put their hand on their heart and said this is going to work," he says. But when Nissan built the DeltaWing racer, all the drivers kept saying it was the most fun car they'd ever driven. That led to further development with the ZEOD and what will eventually be the production version of the BladeGlider.
The BladeGlider's electric powertrain makes it easy to achieve the rear weight bias needed for the narrow-front-track setup. The concept car uses two motors mounted directly in the hub of each rear wheel, and with 75 percent of the weight on the rear axle, it's safe to assume that most of the batteries are mounted in the aft section. The concept car's tires are even more extreme than the prototype's, with 100/80-17 rubber in front—essentially a motorcycle-tire dimension—and 285/35-19 dimensions in the rear.
Back in Arizona, Bowlby mentions that the added benefit of the narrow-front-track arrangement is that having all the weight and aerodynamic drag at the back of the car makes it naturally stable. Plus, he says, the altered suspension gives the test prototype 10 percent more grip than the stock version, even with the all-seasons mounted in front. As I take on more laps in the prototype, I'm amazed at how stable it remains, right up to the limit. The stock Ariel is thrilling, of course, but you're always reacting to the shifting loads through accelerating, cornering, and braking. The narrow-front-track car, in contrast, makes me feel like my reflexes are twice as fast. I've never driven a car that's so balanced.
Nissan's statements up to this point have been clear: There will be a production derivative of the BladeGlider. And not just a few copies for the ultrarich, as is the case with the Juke R, but an actual car you can buy in the showroom. In speaking with Nissan executive Andy Palmer before the Tokyo Motor Show, he said that while he can't be too specific, it usually takes about three years for a car to progress from the concept to production stage. He also made it clear that the road-going BladeGlider will be built in numbers that make it accessible to anybody who wants and can afford one. Of course, both the cost and sticker price are pretty hard to figure out at this point. No carmaker has been as bold as Nissan in committing to such an unorthodox idea.
The BladeGlider concept's debut at the Tokyo Motor Show will find plenty of detractors, and with some reason. After all, nobody has even seen anything like this on the road. It's still hard to for me to understand how the car works from just looking at it. But having driven the proof myself, there's no doubt that anybody who drives the car will quickly convert from skepticism to believing that this is how every sports car should be made.
Let me be clear on another point: This car changes everything—forget what you thought you knew about sports car handling.
For example: At Nissan's Arizona proving grounds, I'm driving a conventional Ariel Atom for the second time. It feels skittish after driving the narrow-front-track prototype, and I'm cornering much slower. Coming out of the tight left-hand turn on the test course, I can actually see and feel that the inside tire isn't providing much grip, which is why the car won't respond as eagerly as I want. But here's the crazy thing: Without having driven the Nissan narrow-front-track prototype, I would never have thought this was a problem. It was just a normal part of a car's cornering limits—even a crazy performance car. After just a few minutes behind the wheel of the proof-of-concept prototype, I realize I have to re-wire my brain to understand what's possible.
The Story So Far
I'm getting a little ahead in the story here. I'm out in Arizona because of Ben Bowlby, who's official title with Nissan is director of motorsports innovation. He's the mastermind behind the narrow front track concept, which began as the DeltaWing concept for IndyCar and was eventually picked up by Nissan for an experimental run at the 24 Hours of Le Mans. Nissan parted ways with the DeltaWing name when racing mogul Don Panoz bought the rights to it, but the company brought Bowlby on board and continues to develop the narrow-front-track idea with the ZEOD RC, which will return to Le Mans in 2014.Conventional wisdom says that a wide track is essential for stability, and that putting as much tire as possible at all four corners results in the best handling and grip. But as Bowlby is about to show me, that's not always the case. He says that the key behind the narrow-front-track concept is balancing the tires to the weight of the car.
To demonstrate, in front of me are two Ariel Atoms, an open wheel track-day car with an exposed frame, open cockpit, and midmounted 230-hp engine. One is totally stock. The other has the front track narrowed from 63 inches to a skinny 39.4 (the same as in the concept car). In place of the side-by-side stock seats, the test mule has a single, center-mounted racing bucket. The radiators have been moved rearward to help shift the weight distribution to about 29:71 front to rear, compared with 37:63 in the stock car. Bowlby's team also added an adjustable rear antiroll bar. And, of course, they changed the tires—from 195/50R-15 in front and 205/55R-15 in rear to 155/50R-15 front and 245/40R17 rear. The total contact patch for both cars is the same, but the altered car has all-season Continental ContiProContact rubber because they couldn't find high-performance tires in such a narrow size.
Bowlby is careful to point out that the demonstration car has nothing to do with the BladeGlider, or the production car that it will spawn (or the Ariel, for that matter). It's merely a way to demonstrate the ride and handling of a narrow-front-track car.
The altered car looks so odd compared with anything else on four wheels, I can't wrap my head around the idea. Bowlby suggests I drive the cars before any explanation colors my initial impression. I start in the conventional car. Nissan has a small course of cones set up on a vast swath of pavement. I take a few laps to warm up, slowly increasing my speed. On lap three, I spin in a sweeping left corner after suddenly lifting off the gas. The Atom is a serious car—highly responsive but also very sensitive to the driver's inputs. Get a little too ambitious, and you can get into trouble.
Baseline impressions completed, I hop into the narrow-front-track car (unfortunately, Nissan doesn't yet have a better name for this idea). It takes a couple of laps to get used to the fact that the car is much wider at the rear, but I avoid the embarrassment of clipping any cones. After a hard acceleration to about 100 mph, I hammer on the brakes. The altered car is obviously much more stable under deceleration. There are no antilock brakes on either car, but it's easy to modulate the pedal in the altered prototype right at the edge of the tires' grip. I spin again on the third lap, but this time nearly on purpose, after several loops around a circular skidpad trying to drift the back end of the car.
The difference between the two cars is stunning. It's hard to believe they share so much hardware. In the standard car, driving at the limit is a tricky balancing act between understeer (which is when the front end become unresponsive) and oversteer (which is when the back starts to come around on you). Nobody would ever suggest that a stock Ariel Atom is unresponsive, but the altered car drives like it's hard-wired into your brain. After just five laps around the improvised course, I'm converted.
But How Does It Work?
Even with that firsthand experience, I can't wrap my brain around why the narrow-front-track works so well. It still looks unnatural, though the physics behind it are sound. "Form following function," is a phrase that peppers Bowlby's explanation. The narrow front drastically reduces drag, which leads to better energy efficiency. And with all the weight and tires shifted toward the rear, the car can accelerate almost as well as a four-wheel-drive car.
As for the handling, the narrow front track actually makes plenty of sense when you look at it closely. When a conventional car turns around a corner, the outside front tire takes a path that is much wider than the inside tire. Most cars use a trick known as Ackerman geometry to solve this problem and turn the inside tire more sharply. When you reduce the front track to 40 inches or less, the front tires essentially follow the same path. That means there's no need for Ackerman steering, and because the tires also share cornering loads evenly, tricks to balance out the grip side-to-side with a geometry setup are also unnecessary. The altered prototype I'm driving has zero toe and camber on the front tires. As an added benefit, the tires wear more evenly.
But with skinny front tires and so much weight on the rear, how does the car actually turn? It seems counterintuitive, but the light front end makes the car more responsive. With the center of gravity shifted rearward, there's very little inertia involved in going around a corner. Or, as Bowlby puts it, you're not dragging the center of gravity through a corner. It's somewhat akin to if you lay a sledgehammer on a table—the light end moves easily while the heavy head acts as a pivot point.
Surely, though, the weakness of the narrow front track is bumps, right? Actually, a natural assumption is wrong again. The light front allows for softer springs and less roll stiffness, which give the car more compliance over rough surfaces. Conventional cars adjust to the road from four points, so if one wheel goes over a bump it tries to twist the rest of the suspension in response. The narrow front track is more like a three-legged bar stool: The tires are always in the same plane so it's never uneven and never has to fight against itself. It's a tough idea to grasp, but Bowlby says the key is balancing the weight, grip, and roll stiffness. "Strangely enough, the triangular layout gives you a very consistent and coherent balance in the car. And that was a very unexpected discovery."
From the Track to the Street
Not even Bowlby knew that a narrow-front-track car would be a success. "I don't think that anybody put their hand on their heart and said this is going to work," he says. But when Nissan built the DeltaWing racer, all the drivers kept saying it was the most fun car they'd ever driven. That led to further development with the ZEOD and what will eventually be the production version of the BladeGlider.
The BladeGlider's electric powertrain makes it easy to achieve the rear weight bias needed for the narrow-front-track setup. The concept car uses two motors mounted directly in the hub of each rear wheel, and with 75 percent of the weight on the rear axle, it's safe to assume that most of the batteries are mounted in the aft section. The concept car's tires are even more extreme than the prototype's, with 100/80-17 rubber in front—essentially a motorcycle-tire dimension—and 285/35-19 dimensions in the rear.
Back in Arizona, Bowlby mentions that the added benefit of the narrow-front-track arrangement is that having all the weight and aerodynamic drag at the back of the car makes it naturally stable. Plus, he says, the altered suspension gives the test prototype 10 percent more grip than the stock version, even with the all-seasons mounted in front. As I take on more laps in the prototype, I'm amazed at how stable it remains, right up to the limit. The stock Ariel is thrilling, of course, but you're always reacting to the shifting loads through accelerating, cornering, and braking. The narrow-front-track car, in contrast, makes me feel like my reflexes are twice as fast. I've never driven a car that's so balanced.
Let the Waiting Begin
Nissan's statements up to this point have been clear: There will be a production derivative of the BladeGlider. And not just a few copies for the ultrarich, as is the case with the Juke R, but an actual car you can buy in the showroom. In speaking with Nissan executive Andy Palmer before the Tokyo Motor Show, he said that while he can't be too specific, it usually takes about three years for a car to progress from the concept to production stage. He also made it clear that the road-going BladeGlider will be built in numbers that make it accessible to anybody who wants and can afford one. Of course, both the cost and sticker price are pretty hard to figure out at this point. No carmaker has been as bold as Nissan in committing to such an unorthodox idea.
The BladeGlider concept's debut at the Tokyo Motor Show will find plenty of detractors, and with some reason. After all, nobody has even seen anything like this on the road. It's still hard to for me to understand how the car works from just looking at it. But having driven the proof myself, there's no doubt that anybody who drives the car will quickly convert from skepticism to believing that this is how every sports car should be made.
Read more: EXCLUSIVE: (Sort of) Driving the Nissan BladeGlider Concept - Popular Mechanics
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MAGNUS WALKER – DISTURBING THE PEACE
Magnus Walker is a bit of a personal hero of mine. He’s a British clothing designer based in the USA who has an unbridled passion for old, air-cooled Porsche 911s. He’s owned over 40 of them and once a car has been owned/modified by him they become known as “ex-Magnus Walker 911s” – which significantly increases their value.
Magnus himself seems almost bemused by this and always comes across as an intelligent, unassuming man who likes fast cars and would probably rather to just be left alone to race them.
If you’d like to see another short film about Walker you can click here, or you can click to visit thehome of Obscura Magazine – the people who filmed the movie above.
1965 AMPHICAR CONVERTIBLE
It’s a wonder to me that some enterprising automaker hasn’t created an affordable, amphibious roadster for public consumption. Sure we have a few boutique car companies that sell interesting but hugely expensive amphibians but there’s nothing out the for the common Joe. Back in the 60′s there was though, it’s called the Amphicar and it was developed by some very talented West-German engineers with an eye on the booming American middle class.
The car was powered by a 1,147cc Triumph OHV inline 4-cylinder engine with a power output of just 43hp, this was enough to get it up to a top speed on land of 70mph and a top speed on water of 7knots, not enough for water-skiing but perfect for a river or lake cruiser.
On the road power was transmitted to the rear wheels and in the water, power was sent to the twin, rear mounted propellers. Steering was done by the front wheels both in the water and on land, this made it very easy for people with no boating experience to get behind the wheel and operate theAmphicar with confidence.
Pricing was originally set at $3,395 putting it in about the same bracket as the Austin-Healey 3000, though arguable the cars were aiming at very different markets it does go to show that affordability was maintained remarkably well by the Germans.
All-in, 3,878 Amphicars were built with most of them being shipped to the USA and many of them surviving to the current day thanks to dedicated owners clubs and entire online communities founded to keep the little floating roadsters alive.
This particular Amphicar hit the auction block at the Amelia Island RM Auction on March 10, 2012 and it sold for $63,250.
via SILODROME
RED MAX SPEED SHOP DUCATI MONSTER
Ducati used to build simple air-cooled V-twins in pretty trellis frames that people wanted to customize. In the 1970s, the Bologna marque established an almost definitive look: Long, contoured tanks and deeply sculpted race seats.
But then Ducati changed tack. The visual flat line running parallel to the road disappeared, replaced by sloping tanks and seats meeting in a V-shape between the wheels. It’s sound engineering, but less easy on the eye. And it makes it hard to give a modern Ducati retro looks.
Thanks to designer Pierre Terblanche, we had a brief five-year respite, when Ducati launched the SportClassic—a bike with bevel-head looks, reliable twin-spark power and an up-to-date chassis. It was all over by 2010, but Steve Hillary of the UK’s Red Max Speed Shop wasn’t taking that lying down.
Being the owner of a Ducati Paul Smart 1000LE, Steve knew he’d be onto a winner if he could create a SportClassic/Imola-style tank that would fit the Ducati Monster. There were a few similar things going on in Italy, but nothing in the UK.
Steve’s plan to build a run of tanks quickly turned into a complete bike commission for a customer called Buck—and the stunning orange “Ducafe” we’re looking at here was born.
The donor bike is a 900cc Monster with the rear subframe modified to fit a Red Max Café Racer seat. It complements the Red Max Sport Classic tank perfectly, but it’s the addition of the blunt-nosed fairing that really makes this bike stand out. The frenched-in stacked headlamps were donated from a Ducati 999, and the style is matched at the rear with lighting neatly embedded into the seat unit.
Another standout addition is the single-sided trellis swingarm, which comes from an S2R. Lightweight five spoke wheels are attached via Öhlins forks and a 916SP rear shock. Pure quality, courtesy of eBay.
The engine has been treated to a top-end rebuild, with fuelling now handled by a set of bell-mouthed FCR Keihins. And then there’s that exhaust … stainless steel robot-welded pipes snake under the engine and swingarm, finishing with two GP-style shortie exit pipes. Apparently it sounds as good as it looks.
Neat touches are everywhere you look, but you can’t escape the metallic orange paint scheme. The color is from the Lamborghini color chart: It’s a three-stage paint designed for the Diablo, and it stands out even more against the pale grey of the trellis frame and swinger.
But for Steve, it’s not just about the build—it’s about the ride. “She doesn’t disappoint,” he says. “Hard, fast and loud, as a Duc should be.”
Just what we wanted to hear.
Images by Greg Moss. Red Max thanks Pitlane in Winchester for the paint, and Stuey at Accutek for the wiring and “intelligent relay technology.”
via BIKEEXIF
YAMAHA R1 FLAT TRACKER BY GREGG’S CUSTOMS
In the world of custom motorcycle building you occasionally stumble across something so utterly mad that it makes you pause for a moment. This bike, a Yamaha R1 Flat Tracker built by Gregg’s Customs, is a brilliant example of what talented men can achieve if left alone in a garage for a few weeks with some tools and a fridge full of beer.
This bike started life as a 2009 factory spec Yamaha R1 before being picked up by the team at Gregg’s Customs and pulled to bits. The rear subframe was tossed as were all the plastic fairings and the original swingarm. They then set about fabricating a custom swingarm, front light/number plate, they took the original fuel tank and sliced it down to a more manageable size, then added a bespoke titanium rear subframe and a pair of chunky flat tracker tires.
The end result is a 160hp Kenny Roberts tribute flat tracker that can accelerate so fast it leaves a vacuum vortex in its wake. Now although I’m convinced that I’d put myself into a wall if I ever got to have a ride on this bike I should tell you that it’s currently for sale on eBay with a buy it now price of $25,000. That seems like a fair asking price for a bike capable of making grown men curl up and whimper in the fetal position.
Check out the eBay auction here.
Additional information via Cycle World and The Kneeslider.
via SILODROME
ICON ELECTRIC FLYER
- FRAMEHYDROFORMED ALUMNUM
- FORKSOLET ALUMNUM AND STEEL
- LEATHERWORKBY BROOKS, BLACK LEATHER
- BRAKESAVD BB79
- SPEED20MPH STREET MODE (36MPH RACE MODE)
- RANGEUP TO 35 MILES
- POWER750 WATTS STREET MODE (3,500 WATTS IN RACE MODE)
- BATTERY52V 12.5AH 1000 CYCLE
- RECHARGE TIME2 HOURS WITH INCLUDED CHARGER(110V AND 220V COMPATIBLE)
- FRAME AND FENDER COLORICON ROCKY MOUNTAIN GRAY POWER COAT
- WEIGHT57 POUNDS
ICON ELECTRIC FLYER
Nothing but fun! While the design is
reminiscent of the board track racers
of the gilded age the performance
and ride are decidedly modern.
reminiscent of the board track racers
of the gilded age the performance
and ride are decidedly modern.
Mokka’s xs250
Árpád Bozi is 24 and lives in Hungary where he’s at University studying to be a program developer – which is extremely sensible – but he also has a need to escape from his digital, homogenised world and back into the analogue, organic world of burning fossil fuels the old way; powering dangerous, home-made, two-wheeled deathtraps, otherwise known as; custom motorcycles.
Arpi loves the purity and quality of vintage machines, and his passion revolves around the idea of bringing old machines back to life with modern techniques and quality parts to create reliable machines with character and a soul. Right on, dude. We’re 100% with you on that, …so let us begin.
Arpi’s first bike is this Yamaha xs25o in Japanese/Euro spec, the perfect bike for city riding plus perhaps the occasional longer adventure. The bike was completely stripped back to the bare frame, which was lopped at the rear (as you’d expect) to allow for a ‘proper’ seat which he put together himself. It has a gentle slope down to the tank, suggesting mild gravitational support under hard acceleration but with a brat look . The tank was replaced with another from the Yamaha xs range as Arpi felt it had more ‘cafe’ shape to it than the 250 item.
His goal was to have a factory look, not rough and ready, so many of the brackets and replacement parts were CNC machined for a quality fit and finish, from the rocker caps to the indicator brackets, which use a single bolt to clamp to the frame and hold the indicator, and work at the front and back of the bike. As a perfectionist Arpi needed everything to be exactly as he had imagined. He had the seat re-upholstered three times to get exactly the look and shape he wanted.
Despite all the clever new bits, it was all about having a timeless look, in keeping with Árpád’s vintage aesthetics and taste, and we think he’s done a great job, especially for a first time shed-built bike.
“As I mentioned, it’s my first bike. I’m not a pro builder, I’m just learning, but I’ve got ambitions. I also have another project in progress, it’s a moped-based cafe racer… so I’m on the way to try to and build a brand as well, this is MOKKA Cycles.”
Árpád and Mokka, …welcome to The Bike Shed. We look forward to seeing many more builds from you in the future. You can see more of this bike on Arpi’s Blog.
The Bike Shed
The Street of Dreams: Martin Scorsese's D&G advert starring Scarlett Johansson
Cult director Martin Scorsese has created an advertisement which not only stars Scarlett Johansson and Matthew McConaughey, but also a no less handsome Alfa Romeo…
Entitled ‘The Street of Dreams’, the all-star advert uses black-and-white imagery to showcase the power of love and imagination. A director’s cut of the short clip – which promotes Dolce & Gabbana’s latest perfume – has also been released.
More information on 'The Street of Dreams' advert, and the accompanying images taken by star photographer Peter Lindbergh, can be found at dolcegabbana.com.
1970 Honda CL175
A deliberately small-capacity bike for city traffic and runs to the surf, she's equally at home on the streets of Tokyo or by the sand at Bondi.
To create the desired proportions, handmade mounts discreetly lower the headlight, instruments, and battery on a shortened 1970 Honda CL175 frame. Parts bins were raided for sympathetically sized parts of SL, CB, and XL stablemates, while VW Beetle tail pipes cap long lengths of plumbing concealed in exhaust wrap. Finally, an inlaid-timber 70's skateboard makes the perfect seat, it's road-scarred tail guard now the stop light
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