Great Machines: Driver's Notebook: Speciale Order
June 1, 2008
To the casual observer, the Creative Workshop building doesn’t look like it has anything to do with cars. Housed in a former grain barn in Dania Beach, Fla., this high-end customizer and restoration business looks like it might be the sort of place you go to make candles or build your own teddy bear. There are no oil spots on the pavement outside, no truncated ’57 Chevy jutting out of the wall above the entryway like a trophy elk. Then you notice, parked unassumingly next to the gate, patiently awaiting its turn at the full, frame-off treatment … is that a Vauxhall Victor station wagon?
Stepping through the door, you immediately realize that this is probably where Santa’s elves conjure four-wheeled toys on a big-boy scale. You enter through a library filled not only with historic automotive tomes and Americana, but also a 1924 Citroën 5CV. Dead ahead is a tiny, violently red two-seater awaiting a final touch—it’s an early ’50s Stanguellini. Turn left up a short flight of stairs and the view opens up into the main work area, where rows of rare cars sit in various stages of rejuvenation: a 1955 Eldorado is parked next to a 1967 Jaguar E-Type; a modified Corvair Corsa faces a mongrel rat rod used to test the imagination and skill of new hires. About 20 feet away from the rat rod, work is in progress on a unique Ghia-bodied Abarth original that’s destined for Pebble Beach when it’s finished. This is a place where you might find a Ferrari GTO or a Pontiac GTO, depending on the week.
The Creative Workshop has only been around for five and a half years. In that time, owner Jason Wenig has cemented his shop’s reputation as a world-class restoration business, an establishment that can handle esoteric, concours-level projects like the Abarth. Wenig, a former advertising executive, founded the Creative Workshop when he decided to try forging a new career that would draw on his encyclopedic old-car knowledge and hands-on fabrication skills. "My wife and I said, ‘We have a choice: We go back to corporate or we do something nuts,’" Wenig says.
From the beginning, Wenig staked his claim at the high end of the restoration market, which is a perilous path for a start-up to take. "It’s scary when you have 100 potential customers and 99 walk out the door because they can find someone else to do it cheaper," he admits. "But that one person understands craftsmanship and says yes. And then word spreads about the work you do."
Word about the Creative Workshop eventually spread to a Texan named Barry Smith, who called Wenig two years ago with an interesting proposal: He wanted a replica Ferrari TR59, and had a $200,000 budget to build one from scratch. "Unbeknownst to me, Barry called five other places, too," Wenig says. "They all told him they couldn’t do it. I told him that I could do it, but I wouldn’t. Because I don’t build replicas."
But a project of this potential importance to his business caused Wenig to ponder how he could take the job, while remaining true to his aesthetic principles. His solution was to call Smith and accept the assignment, hoping that during the build process, Smith could be convinced of the merit of a one-of-a-kind automobile that evokes 1950s Italian racers without overtly replicating any specific model.
advertisement
