If you want to know how plugged in someone is to Porsche culture, ask what they think of Singer. Responses range from grunts of disapproval and condescending smiles of derision to gushing wishes to afford one and inquiries about the latest video. Singer separates the purists from the modernists, those who believe in original intent and those who favor traditional discretion. In some countries you can be denied service and even lodging for expressing an opinion about a Singer Porsche, either for or against.
Singer Vehicle Design is a small staff operation out of a honeycombed neighborhood called Sun Valley, California, population 81,788. It’s an outfit that can’t let go of the original air-cooled Porsche 911s from the ages, and now attempts to move back the hand of time itself, wresting away the past 40 to 50 years to find the soul of Porsche and manually pump new blood into an old heart.
“Let’s take the best engine, shove it in the best chassis, put the best brakes on it, the best wheels, best, best, best.”
That quote comes from Singer’s co-founder, an ex-rock musician named Rob Dickinson, orchestrator of a mechanical resurrection. What Singer does is assemble massive inventories of Porsche parts. They accept a vintage Porsche 911 964 and spend roughly three weeks rebuilding it by imagining what Porsche’s designers of the 1960s would have made if they had access to the tools, components, physics, and automotive technology that we have today. What does Singer do? Consider this section of a recent Wall Street Journal article:
“That intake manifold, for example, typically costs about $150, but Singer grinds off the excess metal, takes the flashing marks off it, polishes it to a mirror finish, and then sends the manifold to a custom fabricator who builds and attaches the flanges. After that it goes to a laser engraver who etches on the word PORSCHE, and then the final touch is mounted: an original gold badge from a Porsche 356. The manifold costs about $3,000 by the time Singer is done with it. Now imagine that level of bespoke detail on every single aspect of the car, from wheels to engine to seats to interior…”
Those who have driven a Singer Porsche are typically effusive:
“A love letter to the 911”
“The most roundly satisfying car this writer has ever driven”
“The best of the best – beyond compare”
“Simply perfect”
“The world’s finest Porsche 911”
“The 911 as art”
“When the time came to leave this heartbreakingly wonderful machine behind, I felt something akin to grief – a masterpiece”
“The most alluring vehicle in the world”
Still, there are detractors. Are you really surprised? In this world of the Internet, there are always detractors, you can count on it. Granted, they’re not with any publications, they have no writing credentials, and they might not even have their own postal address, but they do technically exist. At least, we couldn’t find any published negative opinions.
And the argument centers on the one part we haven’t yet mentioned, the price. Taking aim at a cold half-million dollars and turning it into a custom carbon-fiber bodied, entirely bespoke Porsche is typically ill-spoken of by those who 1) could never afford such a car, and 2) have certainly never driven one. At the very least, financial mountains like these remind us of Everest: there are those who sputter about how large it is, and those who want to climb it.
Comments are closed.