They don't make 'em like they used to.
It's not just a saying, but in the case of Shawn Hummel, a motivating factor when it comes to the current state of the automobile.
"Cars today are so homogenized," Hummel said. "There's no difference between a BMW and a Ford Escort. They all pretty much look the same."
Which makes the 28-year-old master's student at UNLV pine for the good ol' days of cars even more. Hummel loves old cars - from the '50s, '60s and even the '70s, specifically, their look: from the sexy curves of the frame to the sterling metal grille in front.
It's little wonder, then, that he turned his love into the subject for his thesis, photos Hummel has taken of custom cars and hot rods.
The pictures consist of close-ups of everything from the fins on the rears of the vehicles and gleaming hubcaps to the shiny paint jobs and spotless windshields -- all designed to elevate the automobile to art.
The photos are in an exhibit, "From Chrome to Plastic," which is on display through Saturday at the Donna Beam Fine Art Gallery at UNLV.
The title, Hummel said, is representational of two main themes.
First there's the more abstract reference to a society obsessed not with form but function, he said. Then there's the more literal interpretation, which is the devolution of the automobile -- from genuine works of art for the ages to pieces of assembly-line plastic with a limited life span.
"How many cars today are going to be around -- let alone enjoyed -- in 20 years?" he asked rhetorically. "We buy a car more for practicality than the joy of driving."
All of which makes the classic cars even more valuable and attractive -- especially the custom autos he photographed for the exhibit.
As far as Hummel is concerned, there's no difference between the creation of a painting or a custom car -- both are works of art.
"I feel like hot rods and custom cars are sculptures. Owners find a form they like and customize it," he said. "There is a lot more attention to details than artists put into their work these days."
Which is the reason he took the photos.
Spread out in the small gallery, the collection of images seems almost Andy Warhol-like (read: pop art) in its glorification of consumerism.
Hummel maintained that the exhibit is more than pop art in photographic form. However, he struggled to find a specific genre.
"I was afraid you were going to ask that," he joked. "I'm not sure what you'd call it."
Dave Hickey, professor of art criticism and theory at UNLV and a professor of Hummel's, said the exhibit represents a combination of styles.
"It now exists at the intersection of pop art and minimalist sculpture. They're simultaneous movements and Shawn has put them together," he said.
Existing in two realms is a familiar area for Hummel, who seems to be stuck between '50s beatnik and the present day.
Dressed in a semi-retro outfit with a black, bowling-style shirt, dark blue Levi's with the cuffs rolled up, Hummel could pass for an extra on "Happy Days." Only with more fashionable shoes and hairstyle, which is a buzz cut with a flip-up front.
The retro side of the ensemble, he said, is indicative of his passion in life: a fascination with the good ol' days.
This nostalgic yearning, in fact, is what his art is about, and one of the main reasons the San Diego native moved to Boulder City three years ago.
"My idea for art is to somehow find a way to define the American Dream and photograph it in some new and interesting way," Hummel said. "I think Vegas defines that."
Las Vegas also proved helpful in providing the custom cars and hot rods he wanted for the exhibit.
But it was when looking at photos of friends' cars he'd taken in San Diego that he got the idea for the show. That was a year and a half ago.
Using a Yashica-D camera from the '50s that he purchased from the classifieds, Hummel headed out into the streets looking for custom cars or hot rods after working the swing shift (he chose not to discuss his work). When he came across an auto that caught his attention, he would, unknown to the vehicle's owner, take pictures of it under the cover of the night.
Photographed usually in parking garages or lots, occasionally on side streets, the close-ups render the cars virtually unrecognizable -- with attention to detail rather than the subject as a whole. This helps separate the exhibit from the photo spreads of customized cars as seen in various magazines.
"I don't want this to be nostalgic pictures of hot rods," he said. "I want them to be abstract close-ups of surfaces and design elements. It's a celebration of color and texture surfaces that are harder and more rare to find these days."
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