Joachim Schultz's

Alfa Romeo 8c 2300 Coupe-Spyder

After a hard day of slicing and dicing, wrestling and struggling, planning and failing at turning Pocher kits into heirlooms, one might assume that the sight of a ‘standard’ Pocher might lose its appeal. One would, of course, be wrong. First of all, there is no such thing as a ‘standard’ Pocher. Anything that consumes months of an individual’s time will inevitably bear the signature of that individual, and each builder’s efforts will result in a very different model. Secondly, one can no more be be tired of Pochers than becoming tired of, say, chocolate cake. A perfect martini. An exquisitely cooked filet mignon. Wrapped in bacon. (okay, okay, without bacon, maybe one could get a bit bored). The point is that a completed Pocher Alfa Romeo Coupe-Spyder will always be a center of attention, no matter how many Pocher models have been previously admired. The big question here is whether or not the model repays a careful inspection.

Knowing what the Pocher folk had in mind when they were designing their kit is always a bit tenuous, a tad fraught with doubts and mysteries, and the Alfa Romeo 8c 2300 is no exception. The familiar chassis and engine are identical to that for the Gran Sport Spyder, and the Muletto a.k.a. Corsa, and the venerable Monza. There are rubber springs, wide tires, and steering boxes best left unmentioned, and the nice block-style tires of the other kits have been replaced with a dandy set of street treaded tires. Otherwise, the chassis and engines are identical. We like to say that they invite their builders ‘to participate in the design process’. So far so good.

The bodies, however, are a different story. The Gran Sport Spyder will surely give even a hardy builder a few tense moments. The Corsa, not so much; and the Monza has only its flappy cycle fenders to apologize for, and, to be fair, leaving them off is not much of an inconvenience. The Coupe-Spyder, on the other hand, is a horse of a different color. The overall shape is right, the proportions are correct, and the doors fit. The fenders—wings—are correctly shaped, fit well, and are a splendid structural asset. One might fret over the missing floor behind the seat, or even the seat itself, but with so many things to celebrate such niggles are bound to be forgotten. In summary, the coupe version of the Pocher 8c2300 is a dandy kit, and Joachim Schultz’s version has resulted in a handsome and distinctive project.

Relying on the Pocher box top to guide one’s project can have its risks, but in this case, the rewards were worth it. Perhaps Herr Schultz tracked down the photos of the prototype car as it appeared in the nineties, or perhaps he sought out Simon Moore as his guide to vintage Alfas. In any case, the result is gratifying. The model looks as if it has been plucked out of a sepia toned photo from the thirties. Our Pocher friends have provided a good start, but Herr Schultz has relied on careful observation, meticulous attention to detail, and admirable restraint to accomplish what is so very hard to do—turn a Pocher into a serious scale model. It is gratifying to see that careful workmanship can still transform a modest kit into an exemplary scale model. Herr Schultz has provided himself with a model to be proud of, and he has provided anyone who sees his model with an example to follow.