If Andy Saunders had been born in America and lived in L.A. he'd more than likely be a millionaire and a household name. Instead he lives in Dorset, England and fixes mundane motors in order to finance his art. For his styling projects Andy works mainly alone, self-funded and unpaid because his passion for automotive styling is paramount in his rainbow coloured mind and uniquely styled life.
He's been the major creative force in the British Kustom scene for many years. His cars now becoming as eagerly anticipated as tarrontino's flicks, and among certain circles as controversial.
Unlike any other designers Saunders' work leaps crazily across a myriad of ideas and patterns. Almost every designer / stylist shows a thread of their own particular style in every piece of work. Each design having several strands of 'DNA' the same enough to say that it came from this studio or that studio, but Saunders' ideas hopscotch freely across many universes, bringing together ideas from many avenues. Not one single example of Andy's work shows any resemblance or connection with any other design that has either gone before or is yet to come. Yet every car launched by Saunders seems to somehow be on the cutting edge of automotive fashion, if not just the other side of the boundary.
Andy's work is now starting to gain respect from many different circles and in particular the well-heeled fans of horrifically expensive coach built automobiles. They are beginning to consider Saunders' creations not as customs but more like the legendary prewar firms that built bespoke one off bodies, the kind of cars that now turn up at the Pebble Beach Concours. This itself being proved by the simple fact that several of Andy's cars now reside in pretty exclusive private collections or museums and adjoining that fact Andy has now had four separate vehicles designed by himself being invited to Concours de Elegance events in Europe within the last 12 months.
And so like some freakish caterpillar Saunders lives for months in solitary confined work hidden in an atmosphere toxic to most. Ankle deep in filler dust, with the air stinking of ludicrously expensive paint, he works and works, sculpting antique steel, using anything and everything to make the vision in his head a reality. A vision of which to him already exists…. Then several months later, like a metal flake butterfly with a chrome-plated bomb hatch he reveals the beauty of his latest creation.
Andy builds the most beautiful, the most unforgettable and the most elegant street legal cars using an imagination that know no bounds. He doesn't understand the ordinary, he doesn't understand the comfort zone, he doesn't build the expected or the soon to be mundane. Andy builds somewhere between the cutting edge and the future, and doesn't it have a refreshing appeal.
