Other little anecdotes and stories
Gaddafi's Buses
Vinicio Mais tells ....
"I had never run serious risks due to errors in the execution of logos and advertising slogans, but that's what happened in the early 1970s when I was contacted by FIAT CAMERI in the province of Novara for a very important job. They commissioned me to create a logo and lettering in the Arabic alphabet to be painted on several dozen buses destined for Colonel Gaddafi's Libya. So far, everything was normal, except that since the texts were written in Arabic, there was a risk of reproducing a bit of an Arabic letter that was a little longer or shorter, or slightly different, which could inadvertently distort the meaning of a sentence—in short, there was the serious risk of creating a diplomatic incident! And that's why my collaborators and I checked every single letter and character to the point of exasperation during the execution of the job. In the end, I felt personally very satisfied and gratified by Fiat's compliments and breathed a huge sigh of relief!"
Some images of Libya in the 70s (original photos taken from these links: photo1 and photo 2 ).
The rescue of the 100 Campagnoles
Vinicio Mais tells ....
"A nice anecdote that represented a positive turning point for our business.
At the end of the 1960s, the Fiat offices at Corso Marconi 20 in Turin contacted me to carry out the paint decoration of around one hundred Fiat Campagnola cars, reproducing various writings on the sides to be done in English, and I accepted the prestigious job with enthusiasm.
My colleagues and I carried out emergency outdoor work in various Fiat factory yards. A few days after completing the work, I received an alarming phone call from a Fiat representative: an annoyed voice informed me that we had made a gross error because we had written a word without a consonant in it. As a result, they were left with a hundred vehicles reproducing a grammatical error in the decorations.
'No,' I reply, 'I did things exactly as you wrote them. I still have the original typewritten English text that you gave me as an order before processing!'
'It's not possible that we made such an oversight, show us this text!' my interlocutor replies annoyed.
Email and fax didn't exist back then, so I went to Fiat headquarters in person to show the document to the managers. Upon seeing the handwritten note, they were all shocked and readily admitted their responsibility for the oversight.
'And now how do we do it!?' they ask with some anxiety. Surprised to see the concern on their faces, I reply that they can sleep soundly, it's just a matter of getting down there and redoing the corrections on all the cars one by one.
'Yes, but... you see, Mr. Mais, the machines aren't here anymore!'
'Oh, and where are they now?' I reply.
"Well, they're in Genoa, loaded into the hold of a ship, ready to set sail tomorrow morning. Go there, leave immediately, and make all the necessary adjustments, or we're in serious trouble."
We didn't even have time to agree on a fee; they simply told me not to worry, they'd be grateful. So, in no time, I found myself driving my car towards Genoa with my colleagues.
That night we worked tirelessly in the ship's hold. It was extremely tiring and delicate: we had to remove some letters by sepia and polishing them to create space for the missing letter, and then recompose the correct word on all the Campagnoles.
It was a small but significant feat to successfully complete the job on time, and years later I'm still amazed at how much strength, character, and resources I had at that age. Fiat kept its word and rewarded me handsomely; from that moment on, we became suppliers to all Fiat departments, such as Fiat Oil, Fiat Agri, Fiat Tractors, etc.
Left: the glorious Campagnola Fiat.
Right: Fiat assembly line in the 1970s
The Record-Breaking Yacht
Vinicio Mais tells...
"One of the episodes I enjoy telling the most...
In 1988, I received a phone call from Abarth, for which I was designing graphics for various prototypes, such as the ECV/LC2, competing in the world track championships. They asked me to decorate the Azimut Group luxury yacht, anchored in the port of Viareggio and about to attempt the world record for the Atlantic Crossing without refueling, with at least one paying passenger on board—a requirement for the record to be validated. The paying passenger was none other than the illustrious billionaire Winthrop Rockefeller, who purchased the boarding ticket for the symbolic sum of one dollar. The skipper was Cesare Fiorio. Since, during a previous crossing, the vessel had reached the finish line with half of the stickers peeled off, they explained to me that, to avoid this inconvenience again, the Martini graphics and lettering would be painted.
My answer is a resounding no. I can give you a thousand reasons: I'm not in the mood to move from Turin, I don't feel like giving up my job and family.... And then, to be honest, this type of work makes me think about all sorts of looming headaches and unexpected events!
So I go to the Abarth headquarters to reiterate my decision in front of all the company's bigwigs. They try to convince me in every way possible. Frankly, I'm sorry I can't satisfy them, but my final answer is always a firm no, I can't do it. At a certain point, one of them takes out a check and asks me to write any amount on it.
"Go ahead, write down a figure for which you would agree to do the work."
I hesitated again and again, then, to avoid further displeasing them, I impulsively wrote down a figure that I deemed excessive, enough to finally dissuade them. I handed the check back and thought: now they'll finally give up! To my great surprise, however, the check was signed on the spot without batting an eyelid, and almost in the blink of an eye I found myself on my way to Viareggio with my collaborators to complete the work. The work was so successful that I later received written thanks from the Rossi di Montelera couple, who had commissioned the work.
Left: Vinicio at the Azimut shipyards in Viareggio with one of his collaborators
Right: Vinicio aboard the Record-Breaking Yacht
Karl Abarth's apples
Vinicio Mais tells...
As a young man, I often worked at the Corso Marche 38 headquarters, Abarth's historic headquarters in Turin. Thanks to my precision and attention to detail, I had earned the good graces of Karl ABARTH, who would often take me to his private office, where a basket of beautiful apples of various types and colors always stood out. Karl encouraged me to eat as many as I wanted, explaining that they were good for my health, prevented many diseases, and that by doing so, I would live a long and healthy life. It was his way of thanking me for the work I did, and even today, at 75 (born 1941), I enjoy excellent health and vitality, and I haven't lost the habit of eating 3-4 a day!
I also still remember that Karl often kept me working past closing time, and I tried every possible way to find excuses. The exchange went something like this:
Me: "It's late, I should go get my mother's medicine!"
Karl (with a strong German accent): "Well, give me the prescription, I'll send you to buy medicine!"
Me: "Thanks, but I also have to pick up my girlfriend who's waiting!"
Left: The Abarth factory in Corso Marche in Turin.
On the right: The owner, the legendary Karl Albert Abarth (images taken from these links photo1 and photo2 )