The Curse Of Kenneth Howard

I’ve over-posted on Von Dutch – that much is certain. But, I spent a lot of time on an airplane last week and finally had a chance to watch the documentary series titled, “The Curse of Von Dutch.” Essentially, this docuseries doesn’t cover the life and times of the man, but the people that tried to capitalize off of him after his death.

It’s a highly polished and well done film and despite what most people told me beforehand, I actually thought it was a pretty accurate representation of what happened to make Von Dutch a short-lived fashion brand. It’s the common story of sentiment lost through greed as a brand moves from passion focused to profit focused.

And that’s the problem… While it’s obvious the film makers are talented, they told the wrong story. They told the most obvious and least interesting side of the Von Dutch saga.

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When the branding of Von Dutch was going from obscure to mainstream, I was asked to digitize VonDutch’s traditional logo as well as create a couple of designs based off of it. At the time, I had not yet recognized that Von Dutch conned me as a young boy and was pretty excited about the opportunity to be a small part of a hugely important story to the history of our tiny culture. I agreed, did the work, and never got paid.

As greed set in and the brand went viral, my frustration spilled over to the HAMB. It wasn’t long before a member showed up at my front door unannounced and with a t-shirt that he had designed and printed. On front was a simple print done in the Von Dutch script that read, “Son Of A Bitch.” That member was Kevin Lee and he’s now one of my best pals… and I believe that t-shirt represents the most interesting part of the Von Dutch story.

See, Von Dutch was a son of a bitch. And now that I have the perspective that comes with time, I often wonder just how in the hell any of us came to admire him. They say a positive legacy is built through two things: talent and character. I’m not convinced Kenneth Howard had either.

Talent
Von Dutch is credited with being the father of modern pin-striping. It would be difficult to gain that title without talent and so it’s hard for me to argue against it. Add to that, art is not something I feel all that comfortable grading. It’s a subjective thing and who am I to assume my opinion is above anyone else’s?

I will, however, say that in my opinion Von Dutch didn’t have the precision or the layout skills that many in his era did. It’s very hard for me, for example, to put Dutch’s work in the same league as someone like Tommy The Greek. Your opinion will vary of course.

And I could go on here with many more examples, but again – it’s subjective.

Character
More than anything, Von Dutch’s proven lack of character is what confuses me. Stories of theft, fraud, and drunken and drug induced bullshit have been told and written about since I can remember. And yet, we idolized the man and what he brought to our scene – for a time, I contributed to that as well.

There was something exciting or maybe mysterious about a guy like Dutch that threw caution to the wind and did his thing – damned the consequences to others or the messages sent. He was punk rock and as hot rodders we all appreciate that brand of unorthodox and independent thinking.

But there is, in fact, a line to be crossed.

A few years back, I was invited to a lunch at the GNRS and happened to be seated at a table with a couple of custom car legends. I will leave their names out as one has since passed and I don’t feel comfortable bothering the other. But, Von Dutch came up in the conversation and I told my story of the first time I met the man.

“You do know Howard was a self-proclaimed Nazi?”

“He wasn’t shy about it either. He would tell you – not only in his art, but with his mouth.”

As both these legendary custom car guys dismissed Dutch as a low-life, I began to look at him from another perspective – not as a legend that playfully screwed me and my old man, but as a real person with real flaws. And the thing is… If you know me, you know there is one thing that I absolutely do not accept or take exception of… and that is, a racist. Fuck them. Fuck all of them. No conditions given or accepted.

And so, with this new perspective, I began to study Howard a little more carefully. I took note of some of the elements in his art. German insignias in his knives that could pass as either an odd nod to his German heritage or a pussy foot way of expressing his Nazi beliefs initially just made me a little uncomfortable, but now? A couple of things really brought this home for me.

First, a friend of mine bought some original Von Dutch art at auction. One of the pieces was a helmet that Dutch lettered with, “Arbeit macht frei.” Translated, this reads “Work Will Set You Free” and is an obvious nod towards the gates of Dachau – a Nazi concentration camp.

The other was the now infamous letter that Dutch wrote while on his death bed in 1992. Here’s a passage for those that have refused to read it:

“I am not willing to go through it anymore only to emerge in a place full of [N-word], Mexicans and Jews. … I have always been a Nazi and still believe it was the last time the world had a chance of being operated with logic. What a shame so many Americans died and suffered to make the rich richer and save England & France again, or was that still. I hope you lying wimps get swallowed up with your stupidity.”

That letter was signed, “Bye, Heil Hitler.”

***

And to me, that’s what is so surprising about the docuseries. The creators told this modern story of greed – one that has been told a thousand times before. And, in doing so, they all but ignored the most fascinating part of the “curse.” For decades, a subculture of hot rodders held a guy close to their hearts without really knowing or understanding who he was or what he stood for.

We wrote books about him. We collected his art. We even appreciated his creative mind. And when a few carnivorous merchandisers turned his brand on to the mainstream, we rejected it as if we were the defenders of that legacy. (And again, I contributed to that. No excuses. No accusations onto others.)

It’s a fascinating story of contradiction, defiance, and denial. A missed opportunity to explain away the foundation of the “cancel culture” for good or bad. As well as an opportunity for all of us to come to grips with the fact that one of our heroes was not at all who we thought he was.

Kenneth Howard has no endowment to our culture. He doesn’t deserve one. I’m ashamed to admit that I was far too late in recognizing that.