Shooting the Mercedes-Benz CLR

If you follow me on Instagram you probably saw the photos already, but I wanted to share a bit of history of the Mercedes-Benz CLR, as well as the story behind shooting it last week at Nationales Automuseum The Loh Collection.

Oh, and if you’re able to, please go visit the mentioned Nationales Automuseum while you’re at it. You can easily spend an entire day there letting yourself be immersed by a gargantuan collection of both historical and recent race and road cars. I’d recommend following their Instagram as well.

Now, grab a cup of tea and sit back!

Let’s rewind a bit. Mercedes-Benz at Le Mans remains a bit of a touchy one, due to, of course, the 1955 Le Mans disaster. Pierre Levegh’s 300 SLR flew off track and went straight into the spectators; high speeds, non-existing safety measures and burning magnesium resulted in 83 deaths and makes it by far the deathliest accident in motor racing history to date.

Mercedes withdrew from motor racing completely and didn’t return until 1985. The image below is a snapshot at the start of the 1955 tragedy, one that gives me goosebumps due to the similarities of what would happen little over four decades later. Fortunately without fatalities.

Initial racing success

In 1988, after growing a partnership with Sauber, Mercedes-Benz entered DTM and eventually found success with the 190 E and the Evos, as well as the C-class in later years. Ironically, their domination caused DTM to collapse in 1996, as the competitors – Opel and Alfa Romeo – decided it wasn’t worth the cost anymore and withdrew.

But Mercedes’ enthusiasm for racing had been reignited, so they looked elsewhere for a new racing series. They figured the recently created FIA GT Championship was just perfect; it was dominated by McLaren (with their F1 GTR) and Porsche (with the GT1), and the latter car particularly piqued their interest. The GT1 was essentially a modified Porsche 962 race car body, made to look like the 993 road car – at least the front part (the mods were performed by legendary Norbert Singer). It was a genius marketing move.

What if Mercedes could do the same? A purebred race car made to look somewhat like an existing road car from their model range, say, the brand new CLK. They had no clue where to begin, as DTM had mostly been a practice of modifying existing road cars. The solution: AMG. The gents in Affalterbach were briefed, and 128 days later a now legendary car rolled out the shed: the CLK GTR. Although it’s fair to mention they cheated a little by purchasing a McLaren F1 GTR and using it as a base.

The CLK GTR did great in its maiden season, winning both the drivers’ (with Bernd Schneider) and constructors’ championship. Like the GT1, a series of road cars was produced to meet homologation standards, and a total of 28 cars hit the market in 1998 and 1999. Below is one of them, shot at Deman in Brussels a few years ago. They’re worth a good buck these days, with roadsters going for up to 10 million.

Return to Le Mans

As great as the CLK GTR was for the GT Championship, it was not ideal for Le Mans. Despite Le Mans not being part of the GT calendar, the decision was made to develop a dedicated car more suited for the gruelling race, which became the CLK LM. Aside from the engine change to a V8, the car was lower, had a new chassis and lots of bodywork changes. To the untrained eye they may look similar, but side by side they are pretty different cars.

Despite a double retirement at Le Mans in 1998, the LM was very successful in the GT Championship, and the dreaded DTM scenario repeated itself: Porsche and McLaren retired at the end of 1998 for “cost reasons” (meaning: Mercedes’ dominance), and the Championship was subsequently terminated once again. Fun fact: one road-legal CLK LM was built, although its current whereabouts are unknown. If it happens to be in your garage, kindly let me know – I’ll bring pizza.

Grand Touring Prototype

Mercedes clearly knew how to win, but had no more championship to compete in, except Le Mans itself. And wouldn’t you know it. Starting in 1999, Le Mans introduced the new LMGTP category – short for Grand Touring Prototype – essentially a mix of GT1 and the LMP categories, created after the death of the GT class. Merc had the knowledge of GT1 cars now, but wouldn’t have to worry about building homologated road cars anymore. LMGTP was perfect, and HWA, by now the motorsport division of AMG, was briefed to start building.

Enter the CLR

The result was the Mercedes-Benz CLR, and it was an entirely different breed altogether. Much lower (10 cm lower compared to the LM), lighter (900 kg) and sleeker. Its sleekness was a direct result of a smaller allowed wheelbase, which in turn allowed for longer overhangs and thus a much flatter nose. This created the now iconic flowing lines over its wheel arches. The front styling was inspired by the brand new CL-class at the time, but you’d have to squint a bit to see the resemblance.

Le Mans 1999

In the days leading up to the race, the CLR did not exhibit any issues apart from a broken linkage. However, during a practice session Mark Webber experienced its first aerodynamic… issues. While overtaking an Audi, his car no. 4 suddenly went airborne. After somersaulting and crashing back onto the tarmac, Webber was extracted with some mild neck and back injuries.

The incident was deemed an anomaly, and the car was rebuilt while Webber quickly recovered.

Day of the race

Before the race, all three cars were out on track during a 30 minute warm-up session. Webber, while chasing a Viper GTS-R in his rebuilt car no. 4 , decided to overtake, and once again the car became airborne. Webber was not injured, but the car was impossible to rebuild for a 24 hour race just a few hours later.

More importantly, Mercedes-Benz was in a tough spot. Clearly there was an issue with the car. However, most drivers deemed the car safe to drive. Adrian Newey was consulted, who recommended adding diveplanes to the front fenders as a quick fix. And so, cars no. 5 and 6 were officially participating. Surely all was fine now.

The iconic moment

Four hours into the race, Peter Dumbreck was racing his car no. 5 against Thierry Boutsen’s Toyota, while hitting a kerb on a straight. You guessed it. Car no. 5 went airborne too, this time on live television in front of millions. Dumbreck was doing 320 km/h, resulting in a 15 meter high somersault, ultimately landing between trees. Despite initially being unconscious, Dumbreck was released from hospital later that day.

But the damage was done. After the crash, car no. 6 was called back to the paddock and Mercedes-AMG withdrew from the race, with rival BMW winning that years’ race. It was an embarrassment they never truly recovered from, and to this day they have not returned to Le Mans. I’m sure they will some day and I’ll be rooting for them for sure.

Car no. 6

I vividly remember the flying CLRs back as a kid, and developed a slight obsession with the car. Not just for its somewhat smelly history, but mostly because of its looks. I’ve always been in love with its gorgeous lines and sleekness, finding it far more interesting than the CLK GTR and LM for that matter.

A few years ago I read about remaining car no. 6 showing up at a track event once, after which it disappeared back into darkness. Last year I got in touch with HWA who confirmed it had once been at their corporate showroom but had no clue of its current whereabouts.

Months later I decided to once more ask around, after which I was informed that the car was newly on display at the brand new Nationales Automuseum. I checked, and after Shmees’ video confirming it was there, I immediately got in touch.

Despite the tricky position of the car, we eventually found a way to get it in a darkened space by itself, and I was given the unique pleasure of discovering its best angles in the dark. Afterwards, I got to help push back the car to its original spot which was a surreal experience by itself.

Locating the car and then being able to shoot it was one of the most gratifying experiences in my professional career, after all these years of obsessing over it. It looks even better in the flesh, but I am extremely happy with how the shoot turned out.

I’ll put some more photos below, and you can find the entire shoot on my Behance.

A particularly warm thanks to Florian Urbitsch at Nationales Automuseum for agreeing to arrange the logistics and time, 13 year old Rudolf will forever be thankful.

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