Rococo

Rococo (pronounced ruh-koh-koh or roh-kuh-koh)

(1) A style of architecture and decoration, originating in France about 1720, evolved from Baroque types and distinguished by using different materials for a delicate overall effect and by its ornament of shell-work, foliage etc.

(2) A homophonic musical style of the mid-eighteenth century, marked by a generally superficial elegance and charm and by the use of elaborate ornamentation and stereotyped devices.

(3) In fine art (with initial capital letters) noting or pertaining to a style of painting developed simultaneously with the rococo in architecture and decoration, characterized chiefly by smallness of scale, delicacy of color, freedom of brushwork, and the selection of playful subjects as thematic material.

(4) In sculpture, a corresponding style, chiefly characterized by diminutiveness of Baroque forms and playfulness of theme.

(5) Of or pertaining to, in the manner of, or suggested by rococo architecture, decoration, or music or the general atmosphere and spirit of the rococo.

(6) Ornate or florid in speech, literary style etc.

(7) In the abstract (almost always derogatory), relating to old traditions, which may be seen as foolishly outdated; archaic, old-fashioned, obsolete or backwards.

1797: From the French rococo, a blended word from rocaille (an eighteenth century artistic or architectural style of decoration characterized by elaborate ornamentation with pebbles and shells, typical of grottos and fountains from the Vulgar Latin rocca stone) and barroco, pejoratively to denote a "rock" style which fell from fashion; coined by French Neoclassical painter Pierre-Maurice Quays (1777-1803), a pupil of Jacques-Louis David (1748–1825).  David and Quays, devotees of an austere neoclassical ascetic, were influential in nudging high-culture taste in the dying days of the Ancien Régime back from the frivolity of what they came to describe as the rococo.  Their efforts had little impact on the middle-class fondness for decoration and intricate ornamentation.  The adjective appears to have come into use in English in 1836, a direct borrowing from the French and was being used as a noun by 1840 and the general sense of "tastelessly florid or ornate" is from 1844, extended by abstract to just about anything by the 1860s.

Rococo has long been used as a word of disparagement.  It is a critique of stuff excessively ornate or fussy, things which rely on layers of ornamentation to conceal a poverty of elegance in the basic design.  It’s much associated with pretentiousness but that said, there’s often much to admire in the craftsmanship needed to product work of such intricacy and while the taste might be questionable, in painting, engraving, porcelain, stone-masonry etc, there can be a quaint, decorative charm.

Rococo inside and out.

Rococo fashion: Lindsay Lohan in a Gucci Porcelain Garden print gown (the list price a reputed £4,040) at the launch of the One Family NGO (non-governmental organization), Savoy Hotel, London, June 2017.  Although neither cutting-edge nor retro in the conventional sense of the word, the gown generally was well-received.  Some thought it Rococo and perhaps thematically it could have been done with just a ruffled collar, the pussy bow a detail too many, but the patterning was clever and accentuated the lines.  It was one of those designs where a color change would have been transformative, a rendering in scarlet probably would have been less aesthetically pleasing but would have been eye-catching; the blue was a good choice.

Baroque

Baroque (pronounced buh-rohk or ba-rawk (French)).

(1) Of or relating to a style of architecture and art originating in Italy in the early seventeenth century and variously prevalent in Europe and the New World for a century and a half, characterized by free and sculptural use of the classical orders and ornament, by forms in elevation and plan suggesting movement, and by dramatic effect in which architecture, painting, sculpture, and the decorative arts often worked to combined effect (often used with an initial capital letter).

(2) In music, of or relating to the period following the Renaissance, extending (circa 1600-1750) which tended to be characterized by extensive use of the thorough bass and of ornamentation to create dramatic effects. Johann Sebastian Bach, George Frederick Handel, and Antonio Vivaldi were great composers of the baroque era.

(3) In literature, a style of prose thought extravagantly ornate, florid, and convoluted in character or style.

(4) An irregularly shaped pearl (rare except in technical use).

(5) In pre-modern twentieth century design or engineering, objects intricately or ornately detailed in a way no longer financially viable.

(6) Descriptively (of any object where the technical definitions don’t apply), variously (1) ornate, intricate, decorated, laden with detail & (2) complex and beautiful, despite an outward irregularity.

(7) In stonemasonry & woodworking, chiselled from stone, or shaped from wood, in a garish, crooked, twisted, or slanted sort of way, grotesque or embellished with figures and forms such that every level of relief gives way to more details and contrasts.

(8) Figuratively, something overly or needlessly complicated, applied especially to bureaucracy or instances like accounting systems which either are or appear to be designed to conceal or confuse.

1765: From the French baroque (originally “pearl of irregular shape”), from the Portuguese barroco or barroca (irregularly shaped pearl) which was in some way influenced by either or both the Spanish berrueco or barrueco (granitic crag, irregular pearl, spherical nodule) and the Italian barocco, of uncertain ultimate origin but which may be from the Latin verrūca (wart).  The etymology is however murky and some suggest the Portuguese words may directly have come from the Spanish berruca (a wart) also from the Latin verrūca (a steep place, a height (and thus “a wart” or “an excrescence on a precious stone”).  Most scholars think at some point it probably conflated with Medieval Latin baroco, an invented word for a kind of obfuscating syllogism although one speculative alternative is the word was derived from the work of the Italian painter Federigo Barocci (1528-1612), a founder of the style, but most think this mere coincidence.  The comparative is baroque and the superlative baroquest, both thankfully rare.  Baroque is a noun & adjective, baroqueness is a noun and baroquely is an adverb, the noun plural is baroques.

Marble Court, Palace of Versailles.  Commissioned in the 1660s by Louis XIV (1638–1715; le Roi Soleil (the Sun King), King of France 1643-1715), the Palace of Versailles is thought one of the the finest example of secular Baroque architecture.

Baroque is one of those strange words in English which has evolved to have several layers of meaning including (1) a term which defines epochs in music & architecture, (2) a term referencing the characteristics in the music & architecture most associated with those periods, (3) a term which is a negative criticism of those characteristics, (4) a term which is (by extension) a negative criticism of the excessively ornate in any field (especially in literature) and (5) a term applied admiringly to things intricately or elaborately detailed.  In English, baroque began as an expression of contempt for the style of architecture which most historians believe began in early seventeenth century Rome and which shocked many with its audacious departure from the traditions of the Renaissance which paid such homage to (what was at least imagined to be) the Classical lines from Antiquity.  In architecture, baroque has never been exactly defined, something some explain by analogy with Clement Attlee’s (1883–1967; UK prime-minister 1945-1951) observation that it was as pointless to define socialism as it was an elephant for “...if an elephant ever walked into the room, all would know what it was”.

Karlskirche, Vienna.The Vatican's Saint Peter’s Square is often used to illustrate Baroque architecture and all those colonnades do make quite a statement but Vienna's Karlskirche better represents the way church architects took to the form.  It was commissioned in 1713 by Charles VI (1685–1740; Holy Roman Emperor 1711-1740) after the end of the last great epidemic of Plague as an act of memorial to Cardinal Carlo Borromeo (1538-1584; Archbishop of Milan 1564-1584), revered as a healer of those suffering from Plague.

Actually, although etymologists would say that's true, that’s not how the word is actually often applied because the terms baroque and rococo are often used interchangeably by non-specialists when speaking of just about any building adorned with the elaborate details not seen since modernism, functionalism & brutalism prevailed.  What distinguishes things is less the actual shapes than the feeling imparted, baroque and rococo both noted for asymmetry, luxuriant detailing, extravagant, unexpected curves & lines and a polychromatic richness but where baroque’s language is of grandeur, weight & monumentalism, rococo’s implementations summon thoughts of lightness, playfulness and frivolity.  Tellingly, rococo, when used as a critique is applied almost always in the negative, suggesting something fussy, pointlessly elaborate and overstated whereas baroque is often used admiringly, literature about the only field in which use is universally negative.  The other common use of baroque in the negative applies to bureaucracy or tangled administrative systems when it’s used as a synonym of byzantine.  For those seeking a rule of thumb, except in literature, baroque tends not to be used negatively and when describing objects which contain ornate or intricate detailing, it’s adopted usually to suggest something complex and beautiful, despite an outward irregularity.  Baroque suggests restraint and good taste (there are many other words with which to describe the garish, crooked, twisted or grotesque) and to damn something as silly, over detailed and laden with decorations with no functional or aesthetic purpose, there’s rococo.

Winter Palace, Saint Petersberg.  Some do find the Winter Palace a bit rococo and there are elements of that in the interior but architecturally, it's an example of early baroque, albeit much modified by later renovations.  It was built as a residence of Peter the Great (Peter I, 1672-1725; Tsar of Russia 1682-1725) and remain an official palace of the Romanov Tsars between 1732 and the 1917 revolutions.  The present appearance reflects both the restorative work of the late 1830s when it was rebuilt after a severe fire and the restoration after the damage suffered during the Siege of Leningrad (1941-1944).

The use in the language of literary criticism is, like any application of “baroque” in the non-visual arts, inherently imprecise.  Even in music, it’s understood as a period and many of the compositions which emerged from the era do have a style which is recognisably “baroque” but there was also much which was anything but.  The same can of course be said of the European buildings of the same period, the overwhelming majority of which were neither “baroque”, nor memorable, the adjective in what is now called the “built environment” making sense only when used of representational architecture.  That’s a well-understood distinction in architecture and even painting but more contentious in music, something made murkier still by musicologists having divided the baroque into the “early”, “middle” and late”, mapped onto a range of styles which were sometimes particular to one country and sometimes popular in many.  Interestingly, although as a generalized descriptor it needs still to be thought of as something which began as a term of derision in architecture (and it is from there it gained its parameters), there is an earlier, anonymous piece of (not especially serious) opera criticism which labelled a work as du barocque (in the sense of the original meaning “pearl or irregular shape”), damning the music as un-melodic, discordant and a roll-call of just about every known compositional device; something more like a student’s assignment than a opera.  It’s a critique not greatly different from that made some three centuries later by comrade Stalin (1878–1953; leader of the USSR, 1924-1953) who’d been displeased by one of comrade Dmitri Shostakovich’s (1906-1975) operas, calling it формализм (formalism), "chaos instead of music", a self-indulgence of technique by a composer interested only in the admiration of other composers.

L'Estasi di Santa Teresa (The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa) by Gianlorenzo Bernini (1598–1680) is a sculptural group rendered in white marble, set in an elevated aedicule in the Cornaro Chapel of the church of Santa Maria della Vittoria in Rome.  It’s thought one of the sculptural masterpieces of the High Roman Baroque and depicts Teresa of Ávila, a Spanish Carmelite nun and saint, in a state of religious ecstasy, a spear-holding angel watching over her.  The installation in 2007 (briefly one supposes) gained baroque sculpture a new audience when it was used in a popular meme which noted some similarity with an early morning photograph of Lindsay Lohan resting in a Cadillac.

The last days of baroque: 1967 Mercedes–Benz 600 Pullman Laudaulet (left & rght) and 1971 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 Cabriolet (centre).  There was intricate detailing on the W111 and W100s, the last truly coach-built Mercedes-Benz.  Most were produced between 1963-1971 although the W100s continued in a trickle, substantially hand-built, until 1981.

Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778), remembered as the philosopher who loomed over the French revolution, was also a composer and in his Dictionnaire de la musique (Dictionary of Music, 1767) declared baroque music to be that “...in which the harmony is confused, and loaded with modulations and dissonances. The singing is harsh and unnatural, the intonation difficult, and the movement limited...”, noting the term was a re-purposing of baroco (an alternative spelling of baroko (from a mediaeval mnemonic chant and a mode of syllogism used whenever some point seemed to be exist only pointlessly to obfuscate), used since the thirteenth century by philosophers discussing the tendency by some of their peers (usually those in the Church or university) needlessly to complicate simple concepts and arguments, just for the sake of grandiose academic gloss; formalism as it were.  Etymologists however remain unconvinced by Rousseau’s speculation and cite earlier evidence which suggests it was from architecture that the use in painting and music was derived, pondering that had Rousseau’s musicology been influenced by him being an architect rather than a philosopher, he too may have identified the source in brick and stone.  Anyway, baroque music as it’s now understood is a surprisingly recent construct, discussed as a thing only in the twentieth century, the term widely used only after the 1950s when the advent of long-playing (LP) records made the packaging and distribution of long-form composition practical and the industry became interested in categorizations, the Baroque something different from the Renaissance and the Classical despite the popular association of them all as one.

Lettrism

Lettrism (pronounced let-riz-uhm)

A French avant-garde art and literary movement established in 1946 and inspired, inter alia, by Dada and surrealism.  The coordinate term is situationism.

1946: From French lettrisme, a variant of lettre (letter).  Letter dates from the late twelfth century and was from the From Middle English letter & lettre, from the Old French letre, from the Latin littera (letter of the alphabet (in plural); epistle; literary work), from the Etruscan, from the Ancient Greek διφθέρᾱ (diphthérā) (tablet) (and related to diphtheria).  The form displaced the Old English bōcstæf (literally “book staff” in the sense of “the alphabet’s symbols) and ǣrendġewrit (literally “message writing” in the sense of “a written communication longer than a “note” (ie, something like the modern understanding of “a letter”)).  The –ism suffix was from the Ancient Greek ισμός (ismós) & -isma noun suffixes, often directly, sometimes through the Latin –ismus & isma (from where English picked up ize) and sometimes through the French –isme or the German –ismus, all ultimately from the Ancient Greek (where it tended more specifically to express a finished act or thing done).  It appeared in loanwords from Greek, where it was used to form abstract nouns of action, state, condition or doctrine from verbs and on this model, was used as a productive suffix in the formation of nouns denoting action or practice, state or condition, principles, doctrines, a usage or characteristic, devotion or adherence (criticism; barbarism; Darwinism; despotism; plagiarism; realism; witticism etc).  Letterism is listed by some sources as an alternative spelling but in literary theory it used in a different sense.  Lettrism and lettrist are nouns; the noun plural is letterists.

Letter from letterist Lindsay Lohan (2003).

A Lettrist was (1) one who practiced Lettrism or (2) a supporter or advocate of Lettrism.  Confusingly, in the English-speaking world, the spelling Letterist has been used in this context, presumably because it’s a homophone (if pronounced in the “correct (U)” way) and the word is “available” because although one who keeps as diary is a “diarist”, even the most prolific of inveterate letter writers are not called “letterists”.  The preferred term for a letter-writer is correspondent, especially for those who writes letters regularly or in an official capacity.  The Letterist International (LI) was a Paris-based collective of radical artists and cultural theorists which existed 1952-1957 before forming the Situationist International (SI), a trans-European, unstructured collective of artists and political thinkers which eventually became more a concept than a movement.  Influenced by the criticism that philosophy had tended increasingly to fail at the moment of its actualization, the SI, although it assumed the inevitability of social revolution, always maintained many (cross-cutting) strands of expectations of the form(s) this might take.  Indeed, just as a world-revolution did not follow the Russian revolutions of 1917, the events of May, 1968 failed to realize the predicted implications; the SI can be said then to have died.  The SI’s discursive output between 1968 and 1972 may be treated either as a lifeless aftermath to an anti-climax or a bunch of bitter intellectuals serving as mourners at their own protracted funeral.  In literary theory, while “Lettrism” has a defined historical meaning, the use of “letterism” is vague and not a recognized term although it has informally been used (often with some degree of irony) of practices emphasizing the use of letters or alphabetic symbols in art or literature and given the prevalence of text of a symbolic analogue in art since the early twentieth century, it seem surprising “letterism” isn’t more used in criticism.  That is of course an Anglo-centric view of things because the French Lettrists themselves are said to prefer the spelling “Letterism”.

Jacques Derrida deconstructing some tobacco.

The French literary movement Lettrism was founded in Paris in 1946 and the two most influential figures in the early years were the Romanian-born French poet, film maker and political theorist Isidore Isou (1925–2007) and his long-term henchman, the French poet, & writer Maurice Lemaître (1926-2018).  Western Europe was awash with avant-garde movements in the early post-war years but what distinguished Lettrism was its focus on breaking down (deconstruction was not yet a term used in this sense) traditional language and meaning by emphasizing the materiality of letters and sounds rather than conventionally-assembled words.  Scholars of linguistics and the typographic community had of course long made a study of letters, their form, variation and origin, but in Lettrism it was less about the letters as objects than the act of dismantling the structures of language letters created, the goal being the identification (debatably the creation) of new forms of meaning through pure sound, visual abstraction and the aesthetic form of letters.  Although influenced most by Dada and surrealism, the effect the techniques of political propaganda used during the 1930s & 1940s was noted by the Lettrists and their core tenent was an understanding of the letter itself as the fundamental building block of art and literature.  Often they would break down language into letters or phonetic sounds, assessing and deploying them for their aesthetic or auditory qualities rather than their conventional meaning(s).  In that sense the Lettrists can be seen as something as precursor of post-modernism’s later “everything is text” orthodoxy although that too has an interesting origin.  The French philosopher Jacques Derrida (1930-2004) made famous the phrase “Il n'y a pas de hors-texte” which often is translated as something like “there is no meaning beyond the text” but “hors-texte” (outside the text) was printers’ jargon for those parts of a book without regular page numbers (blank pages, copyright page, table of contents et al) and Derrida’s point actually was the hors-texte must be regardes as a part of the text.  There was much intellectual opportunism in post modernism and for their own purposes it suited may to assert what Derrida said was “There is nothing outside the text” and what he meant was “everything is part of a (fictional) text and nothing is real” whereas his point was it’s not possible to create a rule rigidly which delineates what is “the text” and what is “an appendage to the text”.  Troublingly for some post modernists, Derrida did proceed on a case-by-case basis although he seems not to have explained how the meaning of the text in an edition of a book with an appended "This page is intentionally left blank" page might differ from one with no such page although it may be some earnest student of post-modernism has written an essay convincingly exactly that.

The Lettrism project was very much a rejection of traditional language structures and the meanings they denoted; it was a didactic endeavor, the Lettrists claiming not only had they transcended conventional grammar & syntax but they could obviate even a need for meaning in words, their work a deliberate challenge to their audiences to rethink how language functions.  As might be imagined, their output was “experimental” and in addition to some takes on the ancient form of “pattern poetry” included what they styled “concrete poetry” & “phonetic poetry”, visual art and performance pieces which relied on abstraction, the most enduring of which was the “hypergraphic”, an object sometimes describe as “picture writing” which combined letters, symbols, and images, blending visual and textual elements into a single art form, often as collages or as graphic-like presentations on canvas or paper.  This wasn’t a wholly new concept but the lettrists vested it with new layers of meaning which, at least briefly, intrigued many although it was dismissed also as “visual gimmickry” or that worst of insults in the avant-garde: “derivative”.  Despite being one of the many footnotes in the history of modern art, Lettrism never went away and in a range of artistic fields, even today there are those who style themselves “lettrists” and the visual clues of the movement’s influence are all around us.

Chrysler’s letterism: The Chrysler 300 “letter series” 1955-1965.

The “letter series” Chrysler 300s were produced in limited numbers in the US between 1955-1965; technically, they were the high-performance version of the luxury Chrysler New Yorker and the first in 1955 was labeled C-300, an allusion to the 300 horsepower (HP) (220 kW) 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) Hemi V8, then the most powerful engine offered in a production car.  The C-300 was well received and when an updated version was released in 1956, it was dubbed 300B, the annual releases appending the next letter in the alphabet as a suffix although in 1963 “I” was skipped when the 300H was replaced by the 300J, the rationale being it might be confused with a “1” (ie the numeral “one”), the same reasoning explaining why there are so few “I cup” bras, some manufacturers filling the gap in the market between “H cup” & “J cup” with a “HH cup” but there’s no evidence the corporation’s concerns ever prompted them to ponder a “300HH”.  Retrospectively thus, the 1955 C-300 is often described as the 300A although this was never an official factory designation.  While in the narrow technical sense not a part of the “muscle car” lineage (defined by the notion of putting a “big” car’s “big” engine into a smaller, lighter model), the letter series cars were an important part of the “power race” of the 1950s and an evolutionary step in what would emerge in 1964 as the muscle car branch and the most plausible LCA (last common ancestor) of both was the Buick Century (1936-1942).  The letter series was retired after 1965 because the market preference for high-performance car had shifted to the smaller, lighter, pony cars & intermediates (neither of which existed in the early years of the 300) though the “non letter series” 300s (introduced in 1962) continued until 1971 with an toned-down emphasis on speed and a shift to style.

1955 Chrysler C-300 (300A).

The 1955 C-300 typified Detroit’s “mix & match” approach to the parts bin in that it conjured something “new” at relatively low cost, combining the corporation’s most powerful Hemi V8 with the New Yorker Series (C-68) platform, the visual differentiation achieved by using the front bodywork (the “front clip” in industry jargon) from the top-of-the-range Imperial.  The justification for the existence of the thing was to fulfill the homologation requirements of NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) that a certain number of various components be sold to the public before a car could be defined as a “production” car (ie a “stock” car, a term which shamelessly would be prostituted in the years to come) and used in sanctioned competition.  Accordingly, the C-300 was configured with the 331 cubic inch Hemi V8 fitted, with dual four barrel carburetors, solid valve lifters and a high-lift camshaft profiled for greater top-end power.  Better to handle the increased power, stiffer front and rear suspension was used and it was very much in the tradition of the big, powerful grand-touring cars of the 1930s such as the Duesenberg SJ, something that with little modification could be competitive on the track.  Very successful in NASCAR racing, the C-300 also set a number of speed records in timed trials but it was very much a niche product; despite the price not being excessive for what one got, only 1,725 were made but for an expensive car which even Chrysler admitted "had a ride like a truck" it was encouragement enough to schedule a 300B for the 1956 season.

1956 Chrysler 300B (left) and Highway Hi-Fi phonograph player (right).

The 300B used a updated version of the C-300s body so visually the two were similar although, ominously, the tailfins did grow a little.  The big news however lay under the hood (bonnet) with the Hemi V8 enlarged to 354 cubic inches (5.8 litres) and available either with 340 (HP) (254 kW) or in a high- compression version generating 355 (365), the first time a US-built automobile was advertised as producing greater than one HP per cubic inch of displacement.  It was a sign of the times; other manufacturers took note.  The added power meant a top speed of around 140 mph (225 km/h) could be attained, something now to ponder given the retardative qualities of the braking system but also of note was the season's much talked-about option: the "Highway Hi-Fi" phonograph player which allowed vinyl LP records to be played when the car was on the move; the sound quality was remarkably good but on less than smooth surfaces, experiences were mixed.  Success on the track continued, the 300B wining the Daytona Flying Mile with a new record of 139.373 MPH, and it again dominated NASCAR, repeating the C-300’s Grand National Championship.  Despite that illustrious record, only 1,102 were sold.

1955 Chrysler C-300 (top left), 1970 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 Coupé (top right), Rover 3.5 Coupé (bottom left) and Rover 3.5 Saloon (bottom right).

On sale only in 1955-1956, the restrained lines of Chrysler’s elegant “Forward Look” range didn’t last long in the US as extravagance overtook Detroit but the influence endured longer in Europe, both the Mercedes-Benz W111 (1961-1971) & W112 Coupe (1962-1967) and the Rover P5 (1958-1967) & P5B (1967-1973) interpreting the shape.  The Rover was a tale of two rooflines: the “Establishment” Saloon and the rakish Coupé.

1957 Chrysler 300C.

The 1955-1956 Chryslers had a balance and elegance of line which could have remained a template for the industry but there were other possibilities and these Detroit choose to pursue, creating a memorable era of extravagance but one which proved a stylistic cul-de-sac.  The 1957 300C undeniably was dramatic and featured many of the motifs so associated with the US automobile of the late 1950s including the now (mostly) lawful quad-headlights, the panoramic “Vista-Dome” windshield, lashings of chrome and, of course, those tailfins.  The Hemi V8 was again enlarged, now in a “tall deck” version out to 392 cubic inches (6.4 litres) rated at 375 HP (280 kW) and for the first time a convertible version was available.  By now the power race was being run in earnest with General Motors (GM) offering fuel-injected engines and Mercury solving the problem in the traditional American (there’s no replacement for displacement) way by releasing a 430 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 although it was so big and heavy it made the bulky Hemi seem something of a lightweight; the 430 did however briefly find a niche in in power-boat racing.  For 300C owners who wanted more there was also a high-compression version with more radical valve timing rated at 390 HP (290 kW) and this was for the first time able to be ordered with a three-speed manual transmission.  Few apparently felt the need for more and of the 2,402 300Cs sold (1,918 coupes & 484 convertibles), only 18 were ordered in high-compression form.

1958 Chrysler 300D.

Again using the Hemi 392, now tuned for a standard 380 HP (280 kW), there was for the first time the novelty of the optional Bendix “Electrojector” fuel injection, which raised output to a nominal 390 HP (290 kW) although its real benefit was the consistency of fuel delivery, overcoming the starvation encountered sometimes under extreme lateral load.  Unfortunately, the analogue electronics of the era proved unequal to the task and the unreliability was both chronic and insoluble, thus almost all the 21 fuel-injected cars were retro-fitted with the stock dual-quad induction system and it’s believed only one 300D retains its original Bendix plumbing.  Also rare was the take-up rate for the manual transmission option and interestingly, both the two known 300Ds so equipped were ordered originally with carburetors rather than fuel injection.  The engineers also secured one victory over the stylists.  After testing on the proving grounds determined the distinctive, forward jutting “eyebrow” header atop the windscreen reduced top speed by 5 mph (8 km/h), they managed to convince management to authorize an expensive change to the tooling, standardizing the convertible’s compound-curved type “bubble windshield”, a then rare triumph of function over fashion.  Although the emphasis of the letter series cars was shifting from the track to the roads, the things genuinely still were fast and one (slightly modified) 300D was set a new class record of 156.387 mph (251.681 km/h) on the Bonneville Salt Flats.  Production declined to 810 units (619 coupes & 191 convertibles).

1959 Chrysler 300E.

With the coming of the 1959 range, the Hemi was retired and replaced by a new 413 cubic inch (6.8 litre) V8 with wedge-shaped combustion chambers.  Lighter by some 100 lb (45 kg) and cheaper to produce than the Hemi with its demanding machining requirements and intricate valve train, the additional displacement allowed power output to be maintained at 380 HP (280 kW) while torque (something more significant for what most drivers on the street do most of the time actually increased).  The manual transmission option was also deleted with no market resistance and despite the lower production costs, the price tag rose, something probably more of a factor in the declining sales than the loss of the much vaunted Hemi and, like the 300D (and most of the rest of the industry) the year before, the economy was suffering in the relatively brief but sharp recession and Chrysler probably did well to shift 390 units (550 coupes & 140 convertibles).

1960 Chrysler 300F (left) and 300F engine with Sonoramic intake in red (right).

Although the rococo styling cues remained, underneath now lay radical modernity, the corporation’s entire range (except for exclusive Imperial line) switching from ladder frame to unitary construction.  The stylists however indulged themselves with more external flourishes, allowing the tailfins an outward canter, culminating sharply in a point and housing boomerang-shaped taillights.  Even the critics of such things found it a pleasing look although they were less impressed by the faux spare tire cover (complete with an emulated wheel cover!) on the trunk (boot), dubbing it the “toilet seat”.  The interior though was memorable with four individual bucket in leather with a center console between extending the cockpit’s entire length and there was also Chrysler’s intriguing electroluminescent instrument display which, rather than being lit with bulbs, exploited a phenomenon in which a material emits light in response to an electric field; the ethereal glow was much admired.  Buyers in 1959 may have felt regret in not seeing a Hemi in the engine bay, but after lifting the hood (bonnet) of a 300F they wouldn’t have been disappointed because, in designer colors (gold, silver, blue & red) sat the charismatic “Sonoramic” intake manifold, a “cross-ram” system which placed the carburetors at the sides of engine, connected by long tubular runners.  What the physics of this did was provide a short duration “supercharging” effect, tuned for the mid-range torque most used when overtaking at freeway speeds.  Also built were a handful of “short ram” Sonoramics which had the tubes (actually with the same length) re-tuned to deliver top-end power rather than mid-range torque.  Rated at a nominal 400 (300 kW) HP, these could be fitted also with the French-built Pont-a-Mousson 4-speed manual transmission used in the Chrysler V8-powered Facel Vega and existed only for the purpose of setting records, six 300Fs so equipped showing up at the 1960 Dayton Speed Week where they took the top six places in the event’s signature Flying Mile, crossing the traps at between 141.5-144.9 mph (227.7-233.3 km/h).  The market responded and sales rose to 1217 (969 & 248 convertibles) and the 300F (especially those with the “short ram” Sonoramics) is the most collectable of the letter series.

1961 Chrysler 300G.

The 300G gained canted headlights, another of those styling fads of the 1950s & 1960s which quickly became passé but now seem a charming period piece.  There was the usual myriad of detail changes the industry in those days dreamed up each season, usually for no better reason that to be “different” from last year’s model and thus be able to offer something “new”.  As well as the slanted headlights, the fins became sharper still and taillights were moved.  Mechanically, the specification substantially was unaltered, the Sonoramic plumbing carried over although the expensive, imported Pont-a-Mousson transmission was removed from the option list, replaced by Chrysler’s own heavy-duty 3-speed manual unit, the demand for which was predictably low.  The lack of a fourth cog didn’t impede the 300G’s performance in that year’s Daytona Flying Mile where one would again take the title with a mark of 143 mph (230.1 km/h) and to prove the point a stock standard model won the one mile acceleration title.  People must have liked the headlights because production reached 1617 units (1,280 coupes & 337 convertibles).

1962 Chrysler 300H.

Perhaps a season or two too late, Chrysler “de-finned” its whole range, prompting their designer (Virgil Exner (1909–1973)) to lament his creations now resembled “plucked chickens”.  For 1962 the 300 name also lost some of its exclusivity with the addition to the range of the 300 Sport series (offered also with four-door bodywork) and to muddy the waters further, much of what was fitted to the 300H could be ordered as an option on the basic 300 so externally, but for the distinctive badge, there was visually little to separate the two.  Mechanically, the “de-contenting” which the accountants had begun to impose as the industry chase higher profits (short-term strategies to increase “shareholder value” are nothing new) was felt as the Sonoramic induction system moved to the 300H’s option list with the inline dual 4-barrel carburetor setup last seen on the 300E now standard.  With the in-line carburetors, the 413 was rated at 380 HP; this rose to 405 when the Sonoramic option was chosen.  Because of weight savings gained by the adoption of a shorter wheelbase platform, the specific performance numbers of 300H actually slightly shaded its predecessor but the cannibalizing of the 300 name and the public perception the thing’s place in the hierarchy was no longer so exalted saw sales decline to 570 (435 coupes & 135 convertibles), the worst year to date.  The magic of the 300 name however seemed to work because Chrysler in the four available body styles (2 door convertible, 2 & 4 door hardtop & 4 door sedan) sold 25,578 of the 300 Sport series, exceeding expectations.  Since 1962, the verbal shorthand to distinguished between the ranges has been “letter series” and “non letter series” cars.

1963 Chrysler 300J.

Presumably in an attempt to atone for past sins, a spirit of rectilinearism washed through Chrysler’s design office while the 1963 range was being prepared and it would persist until the decade’s end when new sins would be committed.  Unrelated to that was the decision to skip a 300I because of concerns it might be read as the wholly numeric 3001.  The de-contenting (now an industry trend) continued with the swivel feature for the front bucket seats deleted while full-length centre console was truncated at the front compartment with the rear seat now a less eye-catching bench.  The 413 V8 was offered in a single configuration but the Sonoramics were again standard and the three-speed manual transmission remained optional, seven buyers actually ticking the box. The 300J was still a fast car, capable of a verified 142 mph (229 km/h) although the weight and gearing conspired against acceleration but a standing quarter mile (400 m) ET (elapsed time) of 15.8 was among the quickest of the cars in its class.  Still, it did seem the end of the series might be nigh with the convertible no longer offered and the sales performance reflected the feeling, only 400 coupes leaving the showrooms.

The BUFF: The new version of the Boeing B-52 Stratofortress (replacing the B-52H) will be the B-52J, not B-52I or B-52HH.   

Like Chrysler and most bra manufacturers, the US Air Force also opted to skip “I” when allocating a designation for the updated version of the Boeing B-52 Stratofortress (1952-1962 and still in service).  Between the first test flight of the B-52A in 1954 and the B-52H entering service in 1962, the designations B-52B, B-52C, B-52D, B-52E, B-52F & B-52G sequentially had been used but after flirting with whether to use B52J as an interim designation (reflecting the installation of enhanced electronic warfare systems) before finalizing the series as the B-52K after new engines were fitted, in 2024 the USAF announced the new line would be the B-52J and only a temporary internal code would distinguish those not yet re-powered.  Again, the “I” was not used so nobody would think there was a B521.  Although the avionics, digital displays and ability to carry Hypersonic Attack Cruise Missile (HACM, a scramjet-powered weapon capable exceeding Mach 5) are the most significant changes for the B-52J, visually, it will be the replacement of the old Pratt & Whitney TF33 engines with new Rolls-Royce F130 units which will be most obvious, the F130 promising improvements in fuel efficiency of some 30% as well as reduction in noise and exhaust emissions.  Already in service for 70 years, apparently no retirement date for the B-52 has yet been pencilled-in.  In USAF (US Air Force) slang, the B-52 is the BUFF (the acronym for big ugly fat fellow or big ugly fat fucker depending on who is asking).  From BUFF was derived the companion acronym for the LTV A-7 Corsair II (1965-1984, the last in active service retired in 2014) which was SLUFF (Short Little Ugly Fat Fellow or Short Little Ugly Fat Fucker).

1964 Chrysler 300K.

Selling in 1963 only 400 examples of what was intended as one of the corporations “halo” cars triggered management to engage in what the Americans had come to call an “agonizing reappraisal”.  The conclusion drawn was the easiest way to stimulate demand was to lower the basic entry price to ownership of the name and if buyers really wanted the fancy stuff once fitted as standard, they could order it from an option list; it was essentially the same approach as used for most of Chrysler’s other ranges.  Accordingly, the leather trim and many of the power accessories joined air-conditioning on the option list.  The base engine was now running a single four barrel carburetor although for and additional US$375, the Sonoramic could be ordered and combined with Chrysler’s new, robust four-speed manual transmission.  Surprising some observers, the convertible coachwork made a return to the catalogue.  All that meant the 300K could be advertised for US$1000 less than the 300J and the market responded in a text book example of price elasticity of demand, production spiking to 3647 (3,022 coupes & 625 convertibles), 84 of which were fitted with the four speed manual gearbox (50 hard tops & 34 convertibles, the latter number perhaps higher than many might have expected).

1965 Chrysler 300L (four speed manual).

Despite the stellar sales of the 300K, even before the release of the 300L, the decision had been taken it would be the last of the letter series.  The tastes of those who wanted high performance had shifted to the smaller, lighter pony cars and intermediates which hadn’t even been envisaged when the C-300 had made its debut a decade earlier.  Additionally, the letter series had outlived their usefulness as image-makers for the corporation now they were no longer the fastest machines in the fleet and production-line rationalization meant it was easier and more profitable to maintain a single 300 line and allow buyers to choose their own combination of options; in other words, after 1965, it would still be possible to create a letter series 300 in most aspects except the badge and the now departed Sonoramics of fond memory.  When the last 300L was produced it was configured with a single four barrel carburetor and had it not been for the badges, few would have noticed the difference between it and any other 300 with the same body.  The lower price though continued to attract buyers and in its final year 2845 were sold (2,405 coupes & 440 convertibles).

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).

There was an unexpected coda to the 300 letter series.  Although “surprise” is a common tactic in marketing, what was strange about the release of the Chrysler 300-Hurst (introduced in February 1970 at the Chicago Auto Show) was it being a surprise to the dealers parking it in their showrooms.  Improbable as it sounds for a product released in the citadel of modern capitalism, the accepted orthodoxy is the management at Chrysler and Hurst both believed the other corporation would be handing the promotion so consequently, none was ever done.  Given the market dynamics of the time, it’s debatable whether advertising would much have stimulated demand for such a machine and as things worked out, only some 500 were built, the model never replaced.  In the era, there was little consistency in how the thing was discussed with publications variously using “300H”, “300 Hurst” and “Hurst 300” but the preferred use now seems to be “300-H” to distinguish it from the original 300H of 1962.  Based on the Chrysler 300 built on the corporate C-Body (with the so called “fuselage” coachwork introduced for the 1969 season) conceptually, the 300-H was very much in the letter-series tradition and featured the combination of a more powerful version of the 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 (rated at 375 (gross) HP in a dual-exhaust configuration), the TorqueFlite (727) automatic transmission and the opulent leather interior from the Imperial line.  Although often listed as a footnote, the 300-H isn't considered part of the letter-series lineage.

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).  The leather trim and power-adjustable seats came from the Imperial line.

All were finished in Spinnaker White with Satin Tan color accents, and Medium Brown pin-striping, the H70–15 Goodyear Polyglas tyres mounted on 15 x 6-inch wheels in Saturn Iridescent paint.  Although the high (numerically low; the final-drive ratio a conservative 3.23) gearing was indicative of a machine was built for high-speed cruising on the freeways rather than ¼ mile runs along a drag-strip, there were a few visual clues borrowed from muscle car genre, each 300-H equipped with a fibreglass hood (bonnet) which included the then-fashionable “power bulge” in the centre and a rear-mounted fresh air intake although unlike the muscle cars, this fed cold air not to the engine but the passenger compartment.  The trunk (boot) lid (“rear-deck” in US terminology) was also a fibreglass piece which included an integrated spoiler (then referred to usually as an “airfoil”).  The fibreglass mouldings were fabricated by two different companies and although the hoods were well-engineered, the rear decks lacked the internal stiffening required by a panel of such size and they proved over time prone to deformation, the warping most severe if the sitting for any length of time in high-temperature.

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).

By 1970, the 300-H must have seemed anachronistic because the market for high-performance variants of full-sized cars had evaporated as buyer preferences switched to the smaller intermediates and pony cars, by then available with the biggest, most powerful power-plants in Detroit’s inventory.  General Motors (GM) had withdrawn from the segment and although Ford listed the option of a four-speed manual gearbox for big XLs with 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre), none were ever built while the 1969 Mercury Marauder X-100 (essentially a cosmetic package) was automatic-only and lasted only a single season.  Chrysler’s Plymouth division still offered the triple-carburetor 440 (rated in 1970 at a healthy 390 HP) in the big Sport Fury but only with an automatic and sales were low.  It’s worth remembering the original Chrysler 300 “letter cars” of 1955-1956 were essentially the same size as the intermediates of the mid 1960s which became so popular and were the platform which defined the “muscle car” during its brief and crazy vogue; the size was “right” in a US context and what the full-sized lines had grown to was not.  As the fuselage Chryslers came to exemplify, the huge, full-sizers would prove ideal as “land yachts” a breed particular to the 1970s in which occupants, isolated from the outside as never before (and rarely since) “floated” down the freeways, consuming fossil fuels and expelling pollutants in volumes which now would astonish most and appal Greta Thunberg (b 2003).

Hurst built one 300-H convertible, used as a promotional vehicle for their famous shifters, often accompanied by Ms Linda Vaughn (b 1943) who stood on a platform mounted atop the rear desk, between giant models of shifters.  Ms Vaughn was for more than two decades a welcome adornment to drag-strips, noted usually for noise and brutishness.

In 1970, Chrysler 300s tagged for conversion to 300-H specification came down the assembly line in the Jefferson Avenue plant in Detroit before being freighted to Hurst’s facility in Warminster, Pennsylvania to undergo a process which differed from the original plan: instead of deeper oil pans, upgraded ignition systems and the Hurst shifters which had made the company’s name, the cars received mostly cosmetic enhancements although the suspension was stiffened.  About the only difference in configuration was some used a column-shift for the transmission and some a floor-shit with a console, the later combination used with bucket seats.  Despite the 7.2 litre V8, the gearing and bulk conspired against muscle-car like acceleration although the ET (elapsed time) of 15.5 seconds for the standing quarter mile (400 m) was impressive, all things considered.  However, with a MSRP (manufacturer's suggested retail price) of US$5,939 (without any options) it was the corporation’s most expensive offering (except for the Imperial line) and this, combined with the absence of promotion and the anyway declining interest in the segment meant there wasn’t a second batch beyond the original 500-odd (the total quoted variously between 485-501), many of which lingered on dealers’ lots.  According to internal documents, the initial projections had anticipated sales of 2000.

A Hurst Jaws of Life used between 1977-2012 by the fire department in Carlsbad, New Mexico, now on display at the National Museum of American History.

The 300-H was the biggest of a number of cars to bear the Hurst name although internationally George Hurst’s (1927-1986; founder of his eponymous company), greatest legacy to the world was the “Jaws of Life”, a hydraulic cutter he first developed in 1961 after being shocked at how long it sometimes took to extract the driver from the crumpled wreck of a race car.  The great advantage of the “Jaws of Life” was that it worked like a very powerful pair of scissors, avoiding the showers of sparks produced by mechanical saws, always a risk to use in areas where fuel is likely to have been spilled.  The basic design came to be used in hydraulic rescue devices worldwide and quite how many lives have been saved by virtue of it use isn’t known but it would be a big number.

Ms Linda Vaughn on the move.

It’s said one 300-H was dealer-fitted with the fabled 426 cubic inch (7.0) Street Hemi V8 but like many such tales from the era, the veracity of that is uncertain and most find the story improbable.  Chrysler certainly never considered using either the Hemi or the triple-carburetor (3 x 2 bbl) version of the 440 because, given the market segment at which the thing was aimed, air-conditioning (AC) was thought likely to be an often chosen option and the factory never offered the option with either the Hemi or the most powerful 440, the systems of the era not suited to the high-revving units.  It’s thus an orthodoxy in the collector that “no cars with the 426 Hemi or 440 6 bbl were fitted with AC by the factory” and while that’s true of Chrysler’s factories, it not the case for every factory because Jensen in the UK offered AC in their Interceptor SP (Six-Pack, 1971-1973) which used the six-barrel 440 and the boutique Swiss manufacturer Monteverdi did include AC in the single mid-engined Hai (1970) fitted with a Hemi.