Peter Mullin's Collection

It's a fact that is almost as rare as some of the cars he collects: Peter Mullin is a true Los Angeles native. He hails from Alhambra, a few miles northeast of downtown L.A.

Today, it's known for its thriving population of recent Asian immigrants, but then it was a very traditional American bedroom community. It also happened to be a hotbed for hot rodders, including local hero Mickey Thompson. The young guys used to burn up and down Main Street in their rods and jalopies. It was a great time to be coming of age. Mullin's entry into this world came from his father, but perhaps not in the way you'd expect.

“My dad was a chemical engineer with Mobil Oil and he wasn't really much of a car guy... he was a lubrication guy,” Mullin says. “He used to take me to the (midget) races in Gilmore Stadium, and down to Long Beach to the boat races, where one of the fastest boats was called Slo Motion. We didn't go down there because he was interested in boats, we went because Mobil was a sponsor.” Having great seats for such exciting events was the start of the young boy's passion for all things mechanical.

“It was the beginning of my interest in engines and how things operated. My Dad would actually spend endless hours describing how additives affected the valve lifters and so on, and I was like, 'No Dad, let's talk about something else, please, at least another aspect of the car,” he says with a smile.

The First One

His first car was a '53 Chevy Bel-Air Convertible that he bought at age sixteen. He immediately tore it down and rebuilt it with a friend “mostly to learn about engines and see how they operate, and fortunately, my friend knew a lot more about this than I did,” Mullin recalls modestly.

“We were very careful and marked everything, but after we got it back together we had a box full of parts that we could not figure out where they went on the car. But the car started up and ran beautifully, so I put the box in the trunk knowing that someday I'd figure out where the things went.”

He drove it for seven more years, then sold it with to a fellow student at the University of California in Santa Barbara – with the box of spare parts still in the trunk.

Mullins laughs at the memory, adding, “The parts are probably still in there.”

This wasn't just a run of the mill Chevy. It had frenched-in taillights from a '54 Chevy and was painted Sierra Gold. But it's that car's finishing touch that feels almost painful in hindsight. “The car was pinstriped by a local guy named Von Dutch ’Äî at the time I just knew of him as a wild artist and striper and I didn't ever think he'd turn into 'THE' Von Dutch and become as famous as he became. He striped the car as well as the dash and interior.”

Mullin seems honestly saddened at the thought of this Chevy not being in his collection.

“It would have been better if I'd held onto it. It's probably why I sell cars slowly now. I'm a much better buyer than I am a seller.”

He went through a few practical American sedans as a young businessman, and his first foreign foray came in the form of a 1965 Porsche 356sc. “I thought Porsches were really elegant, and I liked the low-to-the-ground aerodynamic flow that the Speedsters had.” He also appreciated the engineering, especially the feel of the boxer engine. It might seem odd that a born and bred SoCal hot-rodder would eschew the V8 for a flat-4. But while Mullin was never a Europhile, his affinity for quality was definitely in place. “I don't know if it was a conscious transition [from U.S. to foreign], but Porsches were cool things in the '60s.”

The French Connection

When he saw a vintage Delahaye “posing” for a photo shoot in front of his West Side home, Mullin was sold. What has become the core focus of his passion for collecting French cars started in the late '70s with a 1948 Talbot-Lago. At any given time these days, some of his cars are away for restoration, others are on loan to museums, art shows and other events, and the rest are either in the clubhouse-like garage attached to his home, or locked away in his new “second” garage. There are always new cars coming in, not so many going out. And much like his collection of fine automobiles, Mullin's new garage is a work in progress. It begs the question, “When is a garage NOT a garage?” Answer: when it's a museum.

Mullin uses this large subterranean space near his home as a sort of practice area for the museum he is rebuilding in Oxnard, California. Enthusiasts already know the address - it's the same property that housed Otis Chandler's Vintage Museum (closed after Mr. Chandler passed away and his collection was auctioned off in 2006). But unlike Chandler's very personal and highly eclectic collection of cars, motorcycles and taxidermy, Mullin's idea is to create a dedicated homage to Art Deco and the Machine Age - an era that produced some of the most beautiful objects in history.

“Once I grew to appreciate the lines, the aerodynamic flow of these cars, my eye was attracted to other similar shapes, and the Art Deco period was the pinnacle of that,” he explains.

“So whether it was cars or toasters or vacuum cleaners, they were all elegant pieces of art that were utilitarian as well. My wife Merle and I started collecting sculpture, glassware, furniture, lighting, clothing, all sorts of items amalgamated around this great period, and they will all be installed in the museum.”

They also intend to include a movie theater, a club and a few other “fun” things but the main focus will be just where American Driver readers hope it will be: on the cars. Mullin says there's room for “easily” one hundred cars on the site, and his hope is that his yet-to-be-named Art Deco museum will be open to the public by the end of 2007.

The Mullins are putting great energy into experimenting with design elements like period-correct fonts for the signage, lighting, flooring and ceiling fixtures, blowups of Paris cityscapes and other artifacts to give the museum its feel and flow.

A set of incredibly beautiful Geo Ham originals that were used to decorate the Team Delahaye garage walls during races at Le Mans in the 1930s hangs on one wall. A specific space is dedicated to the aforementioned non-automotive collectibles, some of which have a very close association to the marvelous street and racing cars parked just a few feet away.

Beauty in design and execution, in this case, was a family affair. Patriarch Carlo Bugatti was a master designer and fine furniture maker whose Art Nouveau woodwork was no less world class than the cars his sons built. Ettore's brother Rembrant Bugatti (how's THAT for a name to have to live up to?!), sculpted many fine bronzes, including the cavorting elephant that was recast as the official Bugatti hood ornament. Their sister Lydia was a painter and there are examples of her work here as well.

The Mullins intend to bring all these artifacts together under one roof so the public can come to share his comprehensive appreciation for the explosion of creativity this period has to offer. Mullin's affection for this period is complete - and his growing collection is living proof of that.

A Story for Every Car

Each of the many cars is truly fascinating in its own right, carrying a detailed story that deserves to be told. Many of them have sufficient provenance to justify a book, let alone an article.

There's simply no way to convey in all that is interesting about the vehicles in Mullin's garage. How does one choose between a 1929 Bugatti Type 37A with its jewel-like 1.5 liter supercharged inline 4 or a Delage 6-cylinder factory racing short chassis? The Delage took second in LeMans in 1949 and was the last Delage to ever race at LeMans in 1951.

There's a 1950 Talbot-Lago GP car with its 4.5L inline 6, an ancient Voisin Luminez with its single 6-cylinder sleeve valve engine and a simply spectacular 1924 Delage Dual Cowl luxury runabout. All are in fine condition and are ready to drive.

Mullin is constantly asked, “how do these cars look when you find them?” His answer was to create a “barn” setting, complete with hay, old car parts and signage. It houses a complete but filthy 1948 Delahaye 135MS in precisely the condition it was found. No doubt some will find this Chapron-bodied car with the high performance engine to be one of the most compelling exhibits in the museum, and for that reason, Mullin says, “I'll never touch it.”

There's a non-Deco section that won't make the trip to Oxnard. It features a group of American, British and German classics from the 1950s and '60s, each of which represents to Mullin “the pinnacle of that breed's design and engineering.” There is a fine 1960 MB 300SL, a '64 Jaguar E-type, and no less than three cars from 1957 (to Mullin, this was a very good year): a Porsche Speedster, a Jaguar XK140 and a Ford T-Bird. The last one has a more than a little personal significance-he bought this car as a gift for his wife on their first wedding anniversary because it was “just like” the one she had when she was nineteen.

And over in one corner of his museum-in-progress is a perfectly restored Hispano-Suiza 24 liter airplane engine, complete with propeller. Why is this there? Because Mullin finds this piece of mechanical history fascinating, just like his Dad would have ’Äî proof positive that this successful apple didn't fall so far from the tree.