Art Deco, or "French Arts Decoratifs," is a style of visual art that flourished in the United States and Europe during the 1920s and 30s. It can be found in objects large and small, from towering skyscrapers to electric toasters and vacuum cleaners to our own objects of desire: bicycles. Art Deco found its ultimate expression in two pieces of rolling sculpture: the Elgin Bluebird and the Shelby Airflo, both futuristic designs commonly referred to as "streamline moderne." Nearly a century after my 1939 Shelby "Nonose" Hiawatha Airflo rolled off the factory floor in Ohio, it still excites the imagination.
From its very beginning, Art Deco has connoted luxury and modernity. True to form, my extravagant Airflo would probably have been ridden by a boy from an upscale neighborhood. The gingerbread (tank, fenders, ram's horn handlebars, carrier, fender mascot, etc.) from the rider's point of view contributed nothing. To a real cyclist, the bike is a tank. But the Airflo was not about function. Rather it made a statement about its owner, conveying status (the one American theme) on several levels. The dazzling ornamentation of the Airflo told the common folk that the rider could transcend the indispensable and revel in the superfluous.
The condition of my bike is typical of a barn find, with little remaining original paint. Only in the past few years could a bicycle in such a weathered state receive points for its "patina," or, as Grant Petersen might say, "beausage." It is a complete bike, save for the missing original horizontal spring saddle and reproduction aero pedals.
From its very beginning, Art Deco has connoted luxury and modernity. True to form, my extravagant Airflo would probably have been ridden by a boy from an upscale neighborhood. The gingerbread (tank, fenders, ram's horn handlebars, carrier, fender mascot, etc.) from the rider's point of view contributed nothing. To a real cyclist, the bike is a tank. But the Airflo was not about function. Rather it made a statement about its owner, conveying status (the one American theme) on several levels. The dazzling ornamentation of the Airflo told the common folk that the rider could transcend the indispensable and revel in the superfluous.
The condition of my bike is typical of a barn find, with little remaining original paint. Only in the past few years could a bicycle in such a weathered state receive points for its "patina," or, as Grant Petersen might say, "beausage." It is a complete bike, save for the missing original horizontal spring saddle and reproduction aero pedals.
1939 Shelby Airflo ©Daniel Dahlquist