There’s something inside me that can’t help but wonder if 1963 was the apogee of American popular culture. The radio began its short-lived dalliance with bossa nova music, introducing us to Antonio Carlos Jobim and Joao Gilberto. Books such as The Bell Jar and Cat’s Cradle forced us to think about feminism, mental illness, and the absurdity of, well, ourselves. Filmmakers brought us such disparate classics as Fellini’s 8 1/2 and James Bond in From Russia with Love. And of course, General Motors released its holy triumvirate: the Buick Riviera, the Corvette Sting Ray, and this lovely 1963 Grand Prix.
I’m obviously biased by my eternal love for all things 1960s, including the aforementioned bossa nova music. (For those interested in bossa nova, check out this deep cut from the Kinks.) Only Pontiac in the 1960s, however, could pull off a minute-long commercial where the ambiance says all that needs to be said: a car, a boat, a girl, a song, a calm evening, and a middle-aged guy who could be you, right? Right. Nevertheless, Pontiac was in a position to pull it off due to shrewd marketing and cars that truly looked better than most of their contemporaries.
Take the Grand Prix. On the surface, there should be nothing special about it; it’s a Catalina shorn of trim. But Pontiac was the king of the small details along with the big ones. Grands Prix earned a special roof, special taillights, a special grille, and special badging. For some reason, this converted your already attractive workaday Catalina into something a rich middle-aged dude with a large boat, a slip at the marina, and a younger girlfriend might actually drive. It wasn’t all myth, which is perhaps the main reason why Pontiac was so successful in the 1960s.
Pontiac’s stylists had already ensured that everyone would copy their stacked headlights in their next respective styling cycles, and now there was this. There was no special body like the Riviera’s or special platform like the Thunderbird’s; the Grand Prix could achieve nearly the same results without the expense and trouble. The Grand Prix truly was a miracle of minimalism.
To ensure that the Grand Prix earned its place at the top of Pontiac’s litany of nameplates, it merited a special interior, including the requisite console, buckets, and floor shift. The standard engine was even lifted from the big Bonneville to ensure that a Catalina couldn’t keep pace at the stoplight variety of the grand prix.
If you were particularly adventurous, you could order your Grand Prix with Pontiac’s beautiful 8-lug wheel, which was actually a stylized finned brake drum with a wheel attached to the outer perimeter.
The real kicker, however, was the name. In 1963, only Pontiac (once again) could have gotten away with naming a full-framed, live-axle, V8-powered, flag-waving American car after a Formula 1 race. Now THAT’s swagger.
The recipe obviously worked. Only magazines made fun of the name while Pontiac was busy selling 72,959 Grands Prix, which is a greater number than not only the base Catalina hardtop, but also the Grand Prix’s competitors, the Riviera (40,000 sold) and the Thunderbird (63,313 sold). Obviously, a list price that was a thousand dollars less than the Riviera’s or the Thunderbird’s was a motivating influence, aside from the Grand Prix’s obvious appeal. But Pontiac could do no wrong in the 1960s, and that magic rubbed off on the Grand Prix.
After all, who wouldn’t picture himself driving through Paris, LeMans, or Nice in a nice, big Grand Prix?
The front end could scarcely be improved upon (and the ’64 did not), but is it sacrilege to say I prefer the ’64 taillights? The horizontal ribbing across the rear is a rare instance where I think the Pontiac styling studio just threw in some texture for the sake of it. The way the rear panel is presented between the rear fender tips is very artful, but when you get there, it doesn’t have much to say. The inevitable slight misalignment of the ribs where they cross the decklid also bugs — more than it would if the draftsmanship weren’t otherwise so precise.
This is nitpicking, but it’s the main lapse in a superb design.
Honestly, the ’64 isn’t too far off the ’63 as a whole. The rear quarters look heavier with the more obvious bodyline, and the front end is a step back, but it’s still really clean, and I would have no problem driving one home.
While I’m picking nits, should this article have been titled “Trackside Classic”? I thought that was just for railroad stuff.
I think that’s the intention of the name, but I found the car in the parking lot at Stanton Mid-Michigan Motorplex’s Pure Stock Muscle Car Drags. Because that’s a racetrack, I sometimes commandeer the epithet for my own use.
Yes, it should have been titled “Curbside Classic”, and it was after I changed it last night, but apparently it got changed back. “Trackside Classic” is reserved for trains. it’s now been changed again.
Hmmm. I didn’t change it back, but I did go in this morning to change a spelling error (“triumvirate,” oops). Maybe the title reverted back to an autosaved version?
I know I speak heresy, but I have never understood putting the Grand Prix into the same category as the Thunderbird and Riviera. I have always thought of the GP as more of a take on the Chrysler 300, or perhaps as a GTO for grownups (and before there was an actual GTO). The Wildcat, Starfire, Marauder, Galaxie XL and others were pushing for the same buyer as was the GP, but the GP probably did it better and more thoroughly than those others.
The big, sporty car was a definite thing in the early 60s, which was also an era before the “personal luxury coupe” was really defined. The Bird and Riv were smaller and on unique platforms, but nobody else had been doing that – which had been the exclusive province of the Thunderbird until 1963.
The only place I fault Pontiac on this car is in making it share the inferior Roto Hydra Matic transmission of the Catalina and not giving it the 4 speed Hydra Matic from the Bonneville. My sense on the ground is that Bonnevilles and Cadillacs from that era are seen far more frequently than Pontiacs and Oldsmobiles that were saddled with that inferior transmission.
Oh yes – a great point on 1963 and bossa nova. Stan Getz’ seminal recording of The Girl From Ipanema was recorded that year (though not released until 1964).
When I think of 1963, another song/artist come to mind, and he’s legendary. Nat King Cole’s “Lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer”!
The 1963 Nat King Cole song that this article most draws to mind is the title track from Where Did Everyone Go? — a melancholy song by Jimmy Van Heusen and Mack Davis, arranged by Gordon Jenkins, about a high-roller lamenting the days when he used to be a big shot.
One of my favorite songs ever.
Stan Getz · João Gilberto · Antonio Carlos Jobim
Desafinado (v=oqHONL-LZ58)
The Grand Prix was definitely more akin to the non-letter 300 and Buick Wildcat than the Riviera, but I think what it comes down to is basically that this was the peak era for Pontiac styling and the GP was arguably the best exemplar of the Pontiac look. So, if one were to pick out a single Pontiac model to encapsulate the era, it would probably be this one.
Agree with JP, the GP was a different trimmed full-size Pontiac, versus the unique body Riv. While I like them a lot, I don’t see them as a true PLC, it’s similar to the same era Impala SS, sporty trimmed standard [full] size car. And no, these were not true “muscle cars” either. Also, the concave rear window was shared with Olds Starfire.
Agreed generally, but the GP had a unique roof unlike the others in that category. That and its clean flanks and a few other details made it look unique and more expensive than it was. The sales numbers speak for themselves.
I believe the GP roof was similar to the one on the Olds Starfire. But with a slight difference at the quarter window.
Quite right. I tend to forget about the Starfire/Jetfire II because they sold so poorly.
I agree on the transmission, JP. One thing I was going to mention in my writing was the fact that the Bonneville engine was teamed to the “Slim Jim” rather than the real Hydra Matic in the GP, but I couldn’t remember off the top of my head if that was correct and I forgot to go back and check.
So danco samba, So danco samba, vai, vai, vai, vai, vai…
I too am a huge fan of bossa nova and many things 1963. Funny thing for me is that in the metal, a Grand Prix from 1963 just doesn’t carry the smooth vibe that I associate with what is quite probably my favorite music (and that’s saying a lot since music in general is a huge part of my life).
Then again, when looking at the last illustration in your post, with its idealized proportions, and stylishly-dressed models that bring an air of sophistication to the car that I think aren’t quite there in real life….Oh, how lovely.
As long as we’re daydreaming, right? 🙂
Whenever I hear or read an automotive brand, past or present, was a dead brand walking whose image was/is too far gone to be revived, I always hold up Pontiac’s transformation from 1956 to 1963 as proof that a dowdy or obsolete image *can* be transformed. Pontiac in the mid-1950s (from all I read – it was before my time) is the best example of how it’s done. Some fresh blood in the management suite, including Bunkie Knudsen and John DeLorean kicked things off. The hoary old “silver streaks” that held up the grille like a set of suspenders were the first thing to go. Then the Indian/Native American themed car names were mostly retired in favor of monikers that evoked racing, like Bonneville, Grand Prix, and Le Mans. There was a new logo to replace the “Indian head”. And to get the message through to the public there was spectacular advertising – TV spots like the one above and gorgeous print advertising courtesy of Art Fitzpatrick and Van Kaufman. None of the image-tweaking would have mattered if the cars themselves weren’t so arresting, and Pontiacs were amongst the best-looking cars of the 1959-1971 period and had engineering to match (some of it again thanks to John Z.)
The Kinks weren’t the only rock act to take a crack at bossa nova – Harry Nilsson’s “The Wailing of the Willow” and the Beach Boys’ “Busy Doin’ Nothin'” (both from 1968) are both outstandingly tasty morsels of that genre.
And of course there was Francis Albert Sinatra & Antonio Carlos Jobim in 1967.
….and the follow-up SinatraJobim which was only released on 8-track cartridges and was recalled a few days after it reached stores, but not before a few were purchased and those are major collector’s items today, as only a handful are known to exist. Frankie didn’t like how his voice sounded on a few songs, and “Wave” was spread over two 8-track programs so there was a clunk in the middle of the songs as the playback head moved to the next track. Most of the songs were later issued as side one of Sinatra & Company, and all of the Sinatra-Jobim sessions have since been released on a compilation.
You make compelling points about Pontiac’s resurgence some thirty odd years after their initial success, but it also has me thinking how that trajectory also ended up pretty much being their downfall, both from factors in and out of their control. The period where Pontiac was white hot was relatively brief, for one, and as you rightly point out a huge chunk of being very much in fashion was based on selling an image. When fashion shifted in the 1970’s, Pontiac kinda sorta tried along with it, and it all went downhill from there. The image people wanted wasn’t there anymore, and factors that make things timeless like quality or superiority of function just weren’t present. That long grip until death on trying to hang on to that sporty image and peak of success became unaware self parody. The transformation likely worked when it did because the time of being past prime in consumer’s minds was also relatively brief, whereas with Pontiac beyond say 1995? Nope; too far gone for far too long.
With shrinking market share, Pontiac overlapped Chevy, with cheap G5 and G6. If brand was kept instead of Buick, would been just rebadged CUV’s by now. No “reproductions of 1967 GTO’s” And, overlapping GMC, and on the way out.
….and the follow-up SinatraJobim which was only released on 8-track cartridges and was recalled a few days after it reached stores, but not before a few were purchased and those are major collector’s items today, as only a handful are known to exist. Frankie didn’t like how his voice sounded on a few songs, and “Wave” was spread over two 8-track programs so there was a clunk in the middle of the songs as the playback head moved to the next track. Most of the songs were later issued as side one of Sinatra & Company, and all of the Sinatra-Jobim sessions have since been released on a compilation.
Gorgeous car and one of my all time favorites. Only thing is, these should be all one color….no white top. JMHO.
I agree with this; a solid dark blue would be about perfect on this car.
The album art (below) was imprinted in my brain as peak coolness when I was in college, even if the GP was a ’64 (and IMO not as attractive as the ’63).
Albums were unneeded expenses during those financially difficult times, but I had to have this one.
What’s really interesting here is that the BBs chose a full size Pontiac to be on the cover alongside the obvious sports car Corvette. That says a lot for the GP in that they did not choose a GTO to sit beside the Vett. I wonder if each of these cars was owned by one of the band’s members?
The Beach Boys weren’t car guys. They wrote about cars because cars were significant across the country and actual surfers were a much smaller market.
They were indeed owned by members of the Beach Boys.
Yep, I figured they could afford both of those cars by 1964! They were rolling in money.
’64 to ’67 GP’s were just as cool as ’63, and the first ’62.
The 1963 Pontiac “rear grill”, and tail lights on all but the Grand Prix, was a copy of the 1961 Lincoln Continental rear “squashed tube” rear grill – a term that Elwood Engel used as I understand.
When Elwood transferred from Ford to Chrysler, he took with him some of his designs, as seen on the 1965 Chrysler’s rear grill, and body fit wrap around bumper ends.
Not the greatest photo due to terrible printer.
A 63 GP was a big part of my loving Pontiac. Though it was the 3rd pntiac in the parent’s garage. A 59 Bonneville, then a 61 Bonneville convertible, But Mom did not care for her 61 Corvair and it was traded on a new 63 GP. In Nocturne Blue. The seminal color for these cars. Yes, it had the 8bolt wheels, It was followed by a 65 GP then a 67, but the outstanding wheels on the 67 (the one i took my driving test in in mid 67) were simple steelies with wheel covers in favor of Disc brakes, Followed by a 69, then a 73. Mom Loved her Grand Prixs. All of them in varying shades of blue. Dad made do with a 63, then 66, then 68 Bonneville. They both moved to Buick in the 70s. But mom returned to the GP in 81.
A true Pontiac family!
I like and own a Corvair, but a ’63 GP must have felt like a huge step up for your mom.
Picture? wrong type of file, I guess.
The picture’s probably too big – try reducing the file size. If a picture is no more than 1,200 pixels across in the bigger dimension, it’ll usually post here.
I like both the ’63 and ’64 GP. But for that matter, I also really like the ’65 and ’66 GP. These were all peak years for Pontiac styling. Beautiful cars. Each year has it’s own advantages. The ’63 is the inaugural year for the great stacked headlamps, the ’64 has a cleaner front and tail to me, the ’65 has the great new Turbo Hydramatic transmission and the ’66 has the great cat’s whiskers grille. Also, I believe the ’66 was the first year Pontiac put a plastic grille on one of their cars. All great!
Agreed! My view is that 65 revised 63 and 66 revised 64. From 67 on I did not like Pontiac anymore.
Yes, the front headlight treatments on the ’63 and ’65 are very similar while the headlights on the ’64 and ’66 are “frenched” in.
The Grand Prix was actually a great looking car from ’62 all the way to ’67 (in my opinion). The ’68 isn’t really for me and the ’69-’72 never really grew on me for some reason, although I understand the appeal. Between ’62 and ’65, the GP and the Catalina are a bit of a toss up for me, but for ’66 and ’67, the GP is my “one to have.”
True confession, when I was six I had a crush on my teacher. She was the first elementary school teacher I’d seen who was young and stylish, and very nice, and she had a brand new ‘63 Pontiac. It was a red two door hardtop that was in a whole different universe than any other teacher’s car, or in fact anyone we knew. As an adult, I’ve always assumed it was a GP but I suppose it could have been a Catalina, but in any case it was very memorable. And I got to ride in it once, just me and her, and of course in that pre-safety era I got to ride in the front seat. A very special day …
Good memories!
A red (almost any shade) ’63 Catalina hardtop is one of my not-so-secret love affairs. For some reason, I’d prefer a GP in a darker color, but who cares? They all look great.
My sister had a new 1964 Catalina convertible. One day I pulled out of her double lane driveway with the top down and entered the driveway apron at an slight angle to the left.
I was shocked to both see and feel the body twist away from the windshield in a manner that indicated that any factory frame stiffening for these convertibles was insufficient. We’re only talking mere inches of difference between the left (higher) and right (lower) side of the front end but the lack of frame stiffness was clear.
I never noticed this flexibility with the top up, but then I wasn’t really looking for something like that.
They look so solid, but they really weren’t, were they?
well, not the convertibles.
1963 is a peak for those able to remember it. Every generation gets a peak year.
And then, sadly, it all came crashing down on November 22, 1963…
“… And then, sadly, it all came crashing down on November 22, 1963…”
It sure seemed that way to me.
Studebaker and Packard maybe could have used stacked headlights similar to these on the 1958 models. No pods needed on their narrow fenders..
I always thought the ’63 Grand Prix looked alot like a ’62 GT Hawk, at least when viewed from the side. And it had a rear grille too (62 and 63 only)
Great article, nicely written.
The ’60’s continue to fascinate (and probably infuriate) so many of us. And today I learned that The Kinks had a bossa nova song – who knew!
The early-60’s are often drowned out by the mid- and late-60’s in the popular memory of what that decade contained. After the sugar-fuelled exuberance of the late 50’s, there was a real elegance to a lot of early 60’s design.
The Grand Prix of course would have been designed in 1961 and ’62, in the early years of the Kennedy administration. It’s hard not to associate (in the imagination at least) the perceived elegance of the Kennedy era with an ambition to express a newfound concept of ‘American elegance’ in other areas of design.
Like many others of my generation I also see late 1963 as a turning point, with the almost simultaneous horror of the Kennedy assassination and the delirious joy of ‘She Loves You’ and ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’. People were desperate to turn a page, a war was brewing, millions of postwar babies were in their teenage years, and the world was suddenly different. The ’60’s (Part II) began.
“The Grand Prix of course would have been designed in 1961 and ’62”
Harley Earl retired in December of 1958, so I would argue that the work on the 63 GP could not possibly have started before late 1959 or very early 1960 – the car was in dealer showrooms by the fall of 1962.
Kennedy was not inaugurated until January of 1961, so cars like the 61 Lincoln and Thunderbird were in showrooms in the last several months of the Eisenhower Administration. Although the Kennedys often get credit for it, I don’t think they did more than maybe give a little push to style trends that were already underway.
The car’s appearance also screams Bill Mitchell, all sharp creases that are minimally adorned. None of the fishbowl windshields, gratuitous chrome, tail fins, curvy flanks that defined the Harley Earl era.
What war was brewing in 1963? US involvement in the Vietnam war didn’t begin until 1965.
“…US involvement in the Vietnam war didn’t begin until 1965… “
Not really.
from Wikipedia: The Vietnam War (also known by other names) was a conflict in Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia from 1 November 1955 to the fall of Saigon on 30 April 1975,
And, if you were approaching military age in the early 1960s, news of 500 military “advisors” and “clandestine warfare” in Vietnam was worrisome.
from: https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/president-kennedy-orders-more-troops-to-south-vietnam
May 11, 1961: President Kennedy approves sending 400 Special Forces troops and 100 other U.S. military advisers to South Vietnam. On the same day, he orders the start of clandestine warfare against North Vietnam to be conducted by South Vietnamese agents under the direction and training of the CIA and U.S. Special Forces troops. Kennedy’s orders also called for South Vietnamese forces to infiltrate Laos to locate and disrupt communist bases and supply lines there.
By 1965, there were about 185,000 USA troops over there. That’s when a lot of people finally saw if for what it was.
Had Nixon won the 1960 election, there would have been no Vietnam War. Nixon was operating under Eisenhower’s “Peace Through Strength” model. It was Kennedy who developed the Limited War concept, to be fought by “Special Forces”- 570,000 Special Forces as it turned out.
A former law partner once joked “Everyone said if I voted for Goldwater we would soon be at war. They turned out to be right – I did and we were.”
The one to credit is Jack Humbert, who was the head of the Pontiac studio in this period, from fall 1958. Based on his remarks to Norbye & Dunne, the ’63 Pontiacs would have been done or very nearly done by the autumn of 1961. So, this was definitely a Kennedy-era design.
Thanks robadr!
An excellent essay that checks many boxes for me, including bossa nova. I just now realized that I’ve never paid that close of attention to the rear styling of the ’63 GP (which I like). Never knew that about the 8-lug wheels, either!
Love the noirish feel of that commercial. Magical.
Thanks Joe!
Not a recipe that appeals on paper, but in the flesh, fresh out of the 1960s oven….well, Paul knows my shipping address……
Nice piece Aaron
Thanks Roger! That’s going to be a pretty big shipping bill. 🙂
One of my favorite American Pontiac models.
Uh, actually I think I still have a 63 Grand Prix AMT model car I bought decades ago. As a kid, this was one of the first Pontiacs that appealed to me not only for its exterior styling but the interior seemed so beautiful. Pontiac was really on a roll in the sixties. Even Canadian Pontiacs looked better than anything from the other manufacturers.
Oh my! Soo, so beautiful.
I was looking around to see if I had any period road tests of these cars, and the acceleration was pretty impressive.
Motor Trend tested a ’62 Grand Prix with the standard 303 hp engine and Hydra-Matic (3.23 axle), which did 0-60 in 8.0 seconds and the quarter mile in 17.2 seconds at 85 mph. That was hot stuff for 1962–63, particularly given the handicap of the transmission (which they complained about).
Car Life tested a ’62 with the same powertrain combination and did 0-60 in 7.2 seconds and the quarter in 15.9 seconds, which was DEFINITELY hot stuff (and hot enough to make me if it had gotten a little extra help in the camshaft department).
They also tried a ’62 GP with the 405 hp 421, three-speed stick, and 3.42 axle: 0-60 in 6.0 seconds, quarter in 14.3 at 103 mph. Yoinks!
Motor Trend later tested a ’63 GP with the 370 hp 421 Tri-Power engine, close-ratio four-speed (a special order item), and 3.42 axle, which did 0-60 in 6.6 seconds and the quarter in 15.1 seconds at 94 mph. They estimated it was making an actual 320 hp at the flywheel.
I assume most buyers went for the standard engine and Hydra-Matic, but that was still plenty quick.
I think you always have to question Pontiacs in magazines from back then, at least after the GTO was introduced. On the other hand, MT’s acceleration times are perfectly believable, including the times for the 370-horsepower ’63. Strangely, Car Life usually had the fewest shenanigans in their acceleration tests (from what I’ve read), and yet those times are the most questionable of your examples.
Yeah, I had a similar reaction. The ’62 Motor Trend results seem plausible enough, and certainly their subjective observations are credible (they complained quite a bit about the Hydra-Matic); the Car Life figures for (ostensibly) the same powertrain, not so much.
As an interesting contrast, Car Life also tested a ’63 Catalina with the 267 hp 389 — 2V, high-compression, warmer cam — and 2.69:1 axle, and got 0-60 in 10.1 seconds with the quarter in 17.9 at 81 mph. THAT doesn’t seem at all implausible, and it actually reinforces the credibility of the MT 303 hp figures from the previous year.
Also credible enough was the fact that Car Life got only 12.1 mpg with an ostensibly economy-oriented powertrain, and on premium fuel. (There were also low-compression regular fuel versions, but I can’t imagine their mileage was any better.)
Here, Albertans having fun with the Parisienne version of that year’s Catalina 😉 :
Another ’60s song that is Bossa Nova adjacent (but probably classified as samba) is “Canto De Ossanha” from Baden Powell in 1966. If you like the other stuff listed on this comment thread, you’ll probably like this.
https://youtu.be/1kzXAS2j4Jo
The picture that I could not attach because it was too large a file.
Compare the 1961-62 Lincoln Continental rear grill (squashed tube, as Elwood Engel called it), and the 1965 Chrysler New Yorker (Elwood’s design also), and the 1963 Pontiac’s rear grill and tail lights (not on the Grand Prix).
Rather similar design philosophy