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28
Dec
Ernest Csuka, of Alex Singer Cycles passed away over the holidays. Monsieur Csuka was one of the last great Constructeurs to build in the old style. Csuka, Singer’s great nephew, stared at Alex Singer Cycles in the 40’s and eventually took over the shop in 1964. He recently handed the shop over to his son Oliver who, we assume, will continue to run the family business. The cycling world has lost a innovative figure and he will be missed.
The original announcement (in french) can be found here.
- Created by the genius mind of Sean in: Bike Love, News and Events, Other Events
one comment to “Au revoir M. Csuka”
I was in the shop in April 2007. I would never disagree that E. Csuka made loads of amazing bikes over the decades he was building, but something about that trip lifted some of the mystique I had felt towards Singer frames being one of the great constructeur builds. Perhaps it was the abrasive attitude of Csuka’s son Olivier.
I had showed up to the store with my wife who was there to translate my needs to French. Olivier was not eager to speak any english with me, or really even help us for that matter. I tried to order a stem for a friend at Box Dog Bikes who was building a touring bike of mish mash parts. Instantly Olivier started barking at my wife that he was sure I had plans to flip it on ebay to make a buck, but in fact this time my intentions were pure. Was it that he sniffed out the shark I was otherwise at the time, or was he just that snobby French dude living in the posh and boring suburb of Levalois (excuse my spelling, I don’t feel Levalois is even deserving of a google search… unless of course you need to find directions to the shop, which none of this reply is trying to dissuade you to visit.)
At about 20min into my visit Ernest walks in the shop with lunch box in hand and a gentle smile as he passed us on the way to his workbench in the back of the shop. He was dressed just as he is in this photo that Sean has found and he looked about the same. Right then the spirit of the dozen or so Singer bikes on display came to life and the old world feel of the shop was complete. I decided to ignore Olivier and absorb all that was, and is good about the remaining classic French cycling culture.
I don’t know if I should mention that later on that same trip I took a train out to Geneve Switzerland to buy a 70’s Singer from Olivier’s cousin. When I arrived he took me around Geneve on a day tour which was nice and awkward and unexpected. One little fun fact I walked away with is that on the lake there in Geneve they have a bird like a duck, but in fact it is and is called a “water chicken”. I wanted one.
Well after my day long excursion with the dude (forget his name), Olivier’s cousin, he took me back to his pad for some macaroons and a 2L of Fanta soda. Ahh… how indulgent the French, or Swiss French…
He brought me to the garage to show me the bike I was buying for 2K euro. In fact I was buying it for a guy I knew from a forum here in the states. He paid for my trip there to get the bike for him. And I did, but had the seller ship it to us here in the states since that is what everyone preferred.
It took him 2 months to get the bike boxed and shipped after I was there. When he finally did he forgot to include in the box any shipping materials - i.e. shit to keep the frame from being destroyed by the removed bars and wheels bouncing around. I popped it open and what did i find - a quarter sized dent in the seat tube just below the decal, more than a 3rd of the way into the tube. Sad deal. His reply when I asked for some compensation off the price we paid “but I tell you this type of hit could have happened anyways…”.
I guess that was all quite a long and unnecessary addition to this memorial post on E. Csuka (as it reads on his decals). So, anyways, in the end here I would just like to say - adieu Ernest. You work lives on. And graphically I prefer your decal over the simple hand painted marque on the Rene Herse bikes. Not to mention when Herse bikes evolved to the tacky logo on stickers they evolved to in the late 70’s. Yuck. They might as well just slapped on some Billabong stickers and called it a day.
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