Auto racing photography was effectively invented and defined by Louis Klemantaski, who was born in the Manchurian city of Harbin, far from the center of the racing world. Louis’s father, Jacques, had hoped to build his fortune in Manchuria by exporting soybeans and importing Willys-Knight and Overland cars. In support of his father’s efforts, Louis was driving by the age of eight, and in 1922 received a “Brownie” box camera for his tenth birthday. The die was cast.
Of Polish ethnicity but a citizen of Great Britain, Jacques sent his son back to England for his formal education, at Kings College. But once he discovered auto racing, Louis spent less and less time at school and more time photographing cars. A severe ankle injury on a motorcycle in 1933 and a lack of funds ended his racing ambitions. By the age of 21, he had turned to his early passion, photography.
Klemantaski mastered and built upon the photographic techniques of Jacques-Henri Lartigue, whose experiments in the early 20th Century are the foundation of action photography.
From 1936 to 1974, Klemantaski was a fixture at Grand Prix events, Le Mans and the Mille Miglia, so much so that editors who had trouble spelling his name published his photos with the byline “Himself.” Klemantaski’s fine manners and signature appearance—luxuriant coiffure, gleaming goatee, and natty clothes—made him a much beloved character and engaging dinner guest.
Though racing today remains a dangerous sport, with death or serious injury a possibility in spite of decades of safety engineering and medical advances, students of history know it is not the blood sport that existed from the Teens into the Seventies, when skilled drivers died far too frequently. In those days of lax safety precautions, Klemantaski could be found at the verge of a racetrack, snapping photos mere feet away from cars moving at high speed.
Without a GoPro to place inside a racecar, Klemantaski was body and soul part of the top echelons of motorsports, and he was fearless. On five occasions he strapped himself into the passenger seat of a thundering Fifties sports-racing car to serve as navigator in the Mille Miglia, the famed 1000-mile open-road sprint from Brescia to Rome and back. As navigator to Ferrari piloto Peter Collins, Klemantaski snapped Enzo Ferrari’s favorite motorsports photograph, seen at the top of this post. Working from the cockpit, in harm’s way with little more than a cardboard polo helmet for protection, Klemantaski captured some of the most iconic of all motor racing images.
In 1989 Louis Klemantaski sold his body of work to Peter Sachs, who established the Klemantaski Collection, a private archive that over the past 25 years has purchased, documented, digitized and preserved the works of more than a dozen of the best European and American race photographers of the 20th Century.
Museum-quality books have been a specialty of the Collection since the 1990 publication of Klemantaski & Ferrari, and a new book arrives just barely in time for Christmas 2014. Over more than two decades, the Collection has refined the business metrics of niche publishing, delivering exquisite books to a small body of discerning collectors who appreciate timeless graphic design, impeccable historic research, and high standards of printing and binding. They’re not produced in pursuit of great profit, but Klemantaski books will not land in the bargain bin at Costco or Wal-Mart. To have them on your bookshelf is an indication that you know, you understand. As with Ferraris, only a few are ever made.
Aptly titled Klemantaski — Master Motorsports Photographer, this new edition is dedicated primarily to photos not previously published. For text, captions, and another layer of fact-checking research, the Collection engaged British motor racing historian Paul Parker.
The book includes more than 300 black & white and color images beautifully spread over a generous 272 pages. We have posted a few Klemantaski photos from this new edition, plus one that’s a personal favorite, at the top of this post.
Find the book here, at www.klemcoll.com.
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