Museums were on my mind recently. The same week the Mullin Collection was dispersed through a sale by Gooding & Company, I was visiting Washington, D.C., immersing myself in the capital. You are truly swimming in the sea of our country’s history no matter where you go in the city.
My first stop was the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum. My introduction to the Space Age started on October 4, 1957. I recall my grandfather waking me at 2 in the morning so that we could stand in front of our home in San Francisco and watch an extra-bright “star” streak across the sky. It was Sputnik, and I was just 6 years old, but the memory of watching that man-made satellite in orbit is unforgettable.
I was deeply affected by seeing the Wright Flyer on display. According to our docent, this was the plane the Wright Brothers flew on December 17, 1903. Not a replica or a re-creation, but the actual artifact that traveled 120 feet in 12 seconds and marked our entry into the era of aviation.
The Air and Space Museum has just opened a new section called “Nation of Speed.” In the words of the museum, it will “recount our desire to become the fastest on land, sea, air and space in the pursuit of commerce, power and prestige.” As the memorialization and recognition of land-based speed activities in the U.S. has been previously lacking by the Smithsonian, this new focus is a welcome one.
A plan comes together
My visit also included a trip to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum and the National Museum of African American History and Culture. To add a touch of whimsy, we also visited the International Spy Museum.
During a tour of the Capitol, I learned that that in the image of Neptune and Venus on the dome, she is holding a black cable. I now know why — do you?
My partner and I had dinner with longtime friend and stalwart SCM contributor Ken Gross and his delightful wife, Trish Serratore. Our superb meal at a tapas restaurant was intertwined with conversation covering the 40 years we have known one another and all the changes in the hobby we have seen.
One of the things we discussed was the fate of the Mullin cars. In all my years around the hobby, I have never seen a collection disassembled so quickly and a museum’s doors closed so soon after the death of its founder. Peter Mullin was a deeply thoughtful man, and he obviously had clear ideas about what to do with his museum. A plan was in place, and expeditiously executed.
By contrast, the Simeone Foundation Automotive Museum has continued full speed ahead with its programs of exhibitions and presentations, even after Dr. Fred Simeone’s death in 2022. (Among its recent events was a particularly creative celebration of the 24 Hours of Le Mans, where the museum was open overnight.) Just as the Mullin had plans in place for a quick exit, the Simeone had all the pieces aligned for its uninterrupted presence.
Visiting Mullin’s France
The Mullin Automotive Museum, in Oxnard, CA, was opened in 2010. Visiting the museum was an experience that engaged all of your senses. Clearly you were in the world of Peter and his wife, Merle. Every detail, from the entry hall to the restrooms, was carefully thought out to take you into a world of their pleasures and treasures. Their vision and passion for all things French permeated every inch of the space.
A handful of the museum’s most important cars have been donated to the Petersen Automotive Museum, another of the Mullins’ philanthropic pursuits. Of the rest, the most noteworthy sale was the Bugatti Type 57C Aravis cabriolet for $6.6m. The most surprising was $1.1m for the Type 46 with replica coachwork by Harry Kouwen and an elephant-hide interior. (We’ll have complete results in next month’s issue.)
From the auction company’s perspective, especially attractive was that this auction was held on-site at the museum facility, sparing it considerable cost. Coincidentally, the building was the same one that formerly housed the Otis Chandler Collection, which Gooding & Company sold in 2006.
Am I glad I visited the collection? Yes, of course. Do I wish it hadn’t been broken up? I am not so sure.
For me, my visit exists as a “point-in-time” recollection, like watching Sputnik. I will not soon forget the afternoon I spent surrounded by all the artifacts that the Mullins had gathered and put on display.
Yet in a way, the museum reminded me of a car whose restoration had been finished, and it was ready to move on to the next owner. This was his vision, and with Peter’s passing, the museum and everything it contained could move on as well.
To experience it was a once-in-a-lifetime moment. Now, like a cascading firework, each piece of the museum will be busy creating new and different experiences for the different collectors who have acquired their small bits of it. ♦
