Since 1950, the Monterey Peninsula of California has provided the setting for a series of events that are the collector-car equivalent of the Cannes Film Festival, the New York Mercantile Exchange and the Westminster Kennel Club dog show combined.

For one week each August, the ordinarily low-key communities of Monterey, Carmel and Pebble Beach become the places to ogle droves of impossibly well-turned-out cars (and equally polished people), and to place bids on some of the finest vintage automobiles available. The only thing missing (so far, at least) is the obligatory Christopher Guest mockumentary film.

The hook is, of course, the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance, which this year will pay special attention to Lancias and Lamborghinis as well as a trove of show cars from the Motorama traveling exhibition that General Motors used to showcase its design studies in 1949-60. Among the Lancias will be a 1908 12-horsepower Alpha, believed to be one of the oldest surviving examples of the marque, and a 1934 Packard owned by a former San Francisco police officer that was last entered in the Pebble Beach concours in 1955.

The events that have sprung up around the Pebble Beach celebration also include the Concorso Italiano show, the Quail motor sports exhibition and the Monterey Historic Races — and a series of auctions whose results tend to establish benchmark values for a wide variety of classics.

Market trends have been something of a question since last January, after the whirlwind of auctions around Phoenix. Those sales demonstrated that despite the subprime mortgage collapse and a looming economic downturn, collectors at the top of the food chain were not shy about buying the finest and rarest cars available. For that, dealers and auction houses breathed a sigh of relief.

At the time, Barrett-Jackson of Scottsdale, Ariz., and RM Auctions of Blenheim, Ontario, seemed a study in contrasting approaches: With Barrett-Jackson catering to the mass market and RM to a higher-end clientele, the two company’s sales had a new-money-versus-old-money feeling. Overall sale numbers were down slightly from 2007 for both companies, but in the all-important average sale price for each car, RM was up considerably ($303,698 in 2008, as compared with $281,838 in 2007) and Barrett-Jackson was down ($74,428 in ’08, compared with $87,102 in 2007).

So while it seems clear that the top of the market continues to climb, the status of the bottom to the middle of the market (cars priced below $100,000) is less certain. Ahead of the Monterey auctions, dealers are speculating that less expensive American cars will be a tougher sell than European sports cars simply because there is not an international market flush with euros for big, thirsty American cars of the 1950s and 1960s.

Among American buyers and sellers, Charles Kuhn, a classic car dealer in Gurnee, Ill., sees a bit of stagnation in the lower end of the market — because, he says, sellers have not been willing to accept that the market has adjusted somewhat. “Sellers are stuck at the 2006 price levels, while at the same time buyers are looking for a bargain,” Kuhn said in a telephone interview.

Ian Kelleher, managing director of RM Auctions, has noticed that buyers of less expensive cars have become more discerning and that impulse purchases are perhaps down. But, he said, “Great cars with a great history are still in demand at any price point.”

Cars meeting that description will surely be available to test that theory. Among the closely watched cars in the auctions will be the 1958 Chrysler Diablo design study, styled by Virgil Exner and built by Ghia in Italy; a 1959 Ferrari 250 GT California Spider; and the 1960 Jaguar E2A racecar (and precursor of the E-Type sports car) that is expected to bring bids of more than $7 million.

GM’s Motorama rolls into Pebble Beach1

A 1908 Lancia Alpha is featured at this year’s Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance.

COURTESY OF CORRADO LOPRESTO

Golf carts will give way to scores of classic automobiles today, when the fairway of what may be America’s most picturesque 18th hole becomes the backdrop for the annual Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance.

This year, the prestigious car show on the Monterey Peninsula of California ventures beyond the usual collection of Duesenbergs and Rolls-Royces to celebrate the futuristic concepts and design studies of the General Motors traveling showcase known as Motorama.

In its heyday during the 1950s, Motorama delivered the automaker’s message of postwar optimism to millions of curious spectators. On display will be the 1938 Buick Y-Job that begat the dream-car era; 17 Motorama showpieces from the 1950s; a 1959 Corvette race car that forecast the ’63 Sting Ray; and one of the custom-crafted trucks that hauled Motorama exhibits around the country.

Were it not for a persistent collector and self-described auto archeologist — and a fortunate turn of events 20 years ago — the historical record would not be nearly so complete, and the 100th birthday of GM would not be nearly so festive. Five of the cars on display are owned by Joe Bortz, a retired nightclub owner from Highland Park, Ill., who has been the leading preservationist and cheerleader of the dream-car cause for a quarter of a century.

By all rights, two of the cars on loan from Bortz’s collection should no longer exist. Two decades ago, Bortz and the late Harry Warholak, owner of Warhoops Used Auto and Truck Parts of Sterling Heights, Mich., conspired to save three 1955 Motorama stars and one 1956 dream car from certain annihilation. The Chevrolet Biscayne and the LaSalle II Sports Coupe from that find will be among the treasures at Pebble Beach.

As the 1950s were winding down, a changing of the guard at GM — when Harley Earl, the design chief, was succeeded by Bill Mitchell — prompted a house cleaning. To save storage costs, dozens of show cars were slated for disposal.

A problem cropped up, according to the current owner of Warhoops, who is the son of the original owner and is also known as Harry. The Detroit company that usually hauled GM’s scrap refused the consignment because the cars, made of fiberglass rather than metal, had no salvage value. The elder Warholak, having earned GM’s trust in previous sensitive assignments, was given the job, in part because the Warhoops salvage yard was less than 10 miles from the GM design center in Warren.

Three cars were shipped without incident. The fourth delivery caught the attention of a curious GM employee who sounded an alarm back at headquarters after following a truck hauling a dusty show car to the Warhoops yard.

“The remaining Motorama cars were never shipped,” Warholak said. “But to compensate my father for his trouble, the Chevrolet Biscayne, the LaSalle II Sports Coupe and LaSalle II Sedan, and the Cadillac Eldorado Brougham Town Car were left in his possession. Later, GM personnel came to supervise the destruction of three of the cars with sledgehammers. Because my father hoped to fix up the Town Car for use in my sister’s wedding, it was spared.”

The cars’ remains were left to the ravages of weather for nearly 30 years. Their sentence was commuted only after Bortz read an article in Automobile Quarterly revealing their whereabouts.

Bortz’s fascination for dream machines began in 1954 when, as an impressionable 12-year-old, he was one of nearly 2 million spectators who attended the Motorama extravaganza during its first visit to Chicago.

“Dream cars are nothing like today’s concepts and design studies,” he said. “The dream cars mark the high point of American design. They are truly the Van Gogh masters of the automotive world.”

The notion of cars making artistic and fashion statements has deep roots. In 1904, wealthy prospects were invited to the top floor of Macy’s to view the latest in European custom coach designs. In 1917, with World War I raging, Cadillac, Packard and other top domestic brands finally gained access to the annual Automobile Salon. The top New York hotels hosted these black-tie events for the Four Hundred members of the social register and their chauffeurs.

When the Great Depression ended the champagne and caviar feasts, GM initiated what it called Industrialist’s Luncheons at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in Manhattan for top banking and financial executives. Live music, floral arrangements and magnificent paintings created an elegant setting for the production models on display.

The first GM show open to the public was the 1949 Transportation Unlimited exhibition at the Waldorf. In 1950, the inaugural year of the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance, GM borrowed the name of its permanent exhibit at the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry to rechristen its New York fashion show the Midcentury Motorama.

After a two-year break, the GM Motorama returned in 1953 with major improvements. Now it was a $5 million show that drew 1.5 million attendees during a six-month, six-city tour. To supplement standard production models, GM introduced its first wave of dream cars. Seven were pure flights of fancy, but the Chevrolet Corvette was such an overwhelming hit that it was immediately approved for production and rushed into showrooms.

Motorama momentum grew for four years and generated many memorable designs. Unfettered by concerns over the cars’ production feasibility, designers toyed with extravagant shapes, soaring fins, exotic propulsion systems and impractical gimmicks. The best ideas graduated to production models, while the turbine engines and titanium body panels never made it past the pages of Popular Science. As television matured into a mass-market entertainment medium while the public grew less inclined to make the effort and pay the cost of attending live events, the GM Motorama lost some of its cachet. Only production models starred at the final Motorama event, in 1961.

Bortz’s enthusiasm for automotive artifacts led to the purchase of an experimental supercharged Pontiac called the X-400 in the late 1970s. After word of that acquisition spread, he became the nation’s most powerful magnet for dream cars. By 1988, when his son alerted him to the dream-car expose published by Automobile Quarterly, he already owned half a dozen of the rare designs.

When Bortz visited the Warhoops yard that year to view the shattered and stacked remains of the Chevrolet Biscayne, the yard’s owner realized he had found a kindred spirit who respected the car’s heritage. “The price discussed a day later via telephone seemed outrageous,” Bortz recalled, “until Warholak revealed it was for not one but a total of four dream cars, three of which were stashed out of sight during my visit.”

Bortz describes the Biscayne’s condition at the time as “beyond junk.” Powertrain and chassis parts were missing, the body was cut into pieces, and the delicate hand-made windshield frame was a twisted mess. But, because of its place in history, he couldn’t stand to leave the car behind.

Bonding the body back together was a three-year effort. Molds were made to create a new windshield, replacing the swept-back glass that GM called Astro-Dome design. A fortuitous file cleaning at GM yielded photos of the chassis that proved instrumental in getting the car rolling again. A standard 1950s-era Chevrolet V-8 now provides power in place of the original driveline, which Warhoops donated years ago to a local high school’s shop class.

Bortz is a preserver, not a restorer, and his revival of the Biscayne has been a 20-year endeavor. “It’s still a work in progress,” he explained.

“Whether the car is in pristine condition or in its present state awaiting paint, chrome and trim, what matters most is the image created during a very significant design period.”

Bortz added: “The LaSalle II roadster is what I call junkyard fresh. While every other car at Pebble Beach is either lovingly preserved or lavishly restored, the Biscayne and the LaSalle II are both unfinished. Their intrinsic beauty is evident without sparkling chrome or a perfect paint job.”