50 Years with Ferraris
Photographer Neill Bruce’s Story of a Lifetime Working with Maranello Concessionaires
by Neill Bruce
“My first commission for Maranello Concessionaires came in October 1971. Shaun Bealey called me over to Tower Garage and showed me a photo of the latest model, the 365 GTS/4 ‘Daytona Spider’. All he had been sent by the factory was a yellowing Polaroid print and I remember him saying, ‘How are we supposed to sell a £10,000 car from this?’ There was just one such car in the country, a black one belonging to Robert Michaels, who very kindly agreed to bring it to Tower Garage to be photographed.”
You could spend, right now, in a certain gallery, over $1000 on a ca. 1980 Ferrari poster by Neill Bruce that shows seven cars. Or you could spend $60 on this book and see over 200 images. The point here is that this British photographer has become an established figure, hardly something he would have imagined when he left school mid-1960, without a plan but “keen on taking photographs” and in possession of a gifted 1950s twin-lens Rolleiflex.
Semi-retired nowadays, he tends to his various photo archives (Ferrari, Frazer Nash, McLaren; several others have passed into the custody of other entities) but, and this makes the reference to “lifetime” in the subtitle true, he’s still involved with the successor company to Maranello Concessionaires which trades these days as Maranello Classic Parts, still the only official Ferrari classic parts distributor in the world.
Among the several Ferrari dealer and trader memoirs that have appeared in recent years this one adds two new motifs to the tapestry: the type of work a commercial photographer does for or on behalf of a dealership, and the goings-on at Ferrari’s UK importer/distributor (including, for instance, photos of cars and components for Type Approval). Motorsports enthusiasts may well recall that it had been Mike Hawthorn, Britain’s first F1 World Champion (1958, after which he retired) who had parlayed his Scuderia Ferrari connections into representing the marque in the UK through his Tourist Trophy Garage operation that already sold Jaguar, Riley, and Fiat. If he hadn’t been killed in a crash within months of retiring, there may not have been a reason or opportunity for one Colonel (Royal Artillery) R.J. “Ronnie” Hoare to make his case to Maranello to appoint him a proper concessionaire: getting allocations of new Ferraris, factory-trained technicians, warranty work, and spare parts (which, in the case of Maranello Concessionaires, would come to include parts manufactured to their order from factory drawings).
Bruce’s book references many incidental bits in the Maranello Concessionaires story but not in any organized or exhaustive way as that is not his primary purpose. (Since Hoare had once run his own F2 team, United Racing Stable, Maranello Concessionaires too campaigned cars, notably pocketing a 1966 class win at Le Mans and finishing eighth overall. For more on that you’d have to dig up a 2018 feature Doug Nye wrote for the Goodwood website, excerpted from his 1980 book.)
As the quote above makes clear, and hard as it is to imagine considering that the Colonel had been open for business already a decade and used a PR agency, advertising was a slipshod affair in those days. No disrespect intended: that Bruce’s photos made a favorable impression on Hoare et al says more about either the quality of work of other photographers or the prices they charged (Bruce was cheap). Also, he was apparently the only one who made good on his promise to furnish the client with prints if they had requested it.
Even after starting in 1971 to freelance for Maranello Concessionaires (which he continued until 1994 when new owner Inchcape “booted him out”), Bruce kept his own studio going, doing insurance and real estate photography—and surely there is a symbiotic aspect in play here that enabled Bruce to zero in on what made a Ferrari stand out right from the start when he himself was tooling around in a “terrible but practical” Austin 1000 estate. (Quick sidebar for architecture hounds: “The Tower” that the text refers to frequently is the Tower Garage Art Deco building designed by Rix & Rix in 1937 that Maranello Concessionaires leased from 1967 on.)
This illustrated memoir is fundamentally an annotated photo album or photo essay. In landscape format, it is in mostly chronological order of assignment, which by extension also means in chronological order of cars since Bruce’s brief was to shoot new cars for press and advertising purposes. For each car he has selected a number of shots and the corresponding text and photo captions discuss particulars of both the cars (often identified by chassis no.) and the respective photos. For instance, he is candidly drawing attention to flaws such as unwanted reflections, doors not fully closed, or bits of kit left in the shot inadvertently. That most photos are b/w was by the client’s request but Bruce often also snuck the occasional roll of color film in because he was building his own photo archive.
Copyright 2024, Sabu Advani (speedreaders.info).
Many thanks for the most generous review, Sabu. For your information, the Colonel’s racing activities were covered by the famous author Doug Nye’s book The Colonel’s Ferraris, Maranello Concessionaires’ Racing Team but that’s long out of print… [Ampersand Press, ISBN 978-0906613023]
Kind regards,
Neill