Fascinated by the beauty of engineering, photographer and military veteran Anthony Scott, alongside partner and photographer Melissa Bryan, started Enginethusiast as a way to house their interests in building, photographing, and filming anything with a motor. Enginethusiast is the culmination of passion and purpose. It covers everything from motorcycles to autos to airplanes and shows how purpose-built objects can transcend art and function, transporting not only the pilots of these machines, but casual observers as well.
As Enginethusiast, Anthony and Melissa have made big waves in a short time. We sat down with Anthony to talk about photography, his military service, and how motorcycles saved his life.
Where are you from and what do you do? I was born and raised in Birmingham, Alabama, the oldest of four children. Although I haven’t lived in the same city as my family for many years, they are still a very important part of my life, and encourage all of my passions. I am currently a budget analyst in Portland, Oregon. In my free time, I enjoy working on my motorcycle and car projects, meeting new people and hearing their stories, and traveling.
How did you end up in Portland, Oregon? I was living in St. Louis, and was looking for gainful employment. Opportunities presented themselves in both New York and Portland. I had never lived on the West Coast before, and thought it would be a good chance to explore. When I was deciding between the two, I also started cruising Craigslist to see what cars and motorcycles were available. I was blown away by the options I saw on the West Coast, and it was kind of a no-brainer for me. I saw so many things I wanted to get my hands on!
What drew you to photography? Growing up I always painted. Something about photography set the tone of being instant and accurate — something you really cannot do with a brush. With a brush it’s interpretive; with a lens it’s bare and exposed like no other form of media.
What is it about automobiles, motorcycles, and machines specifically that draws you to them as a photographic subject? It’s an emotional thing. That moment you hear or see a motorcycle pass you and your head turns like a heat-seeking missile, that’s what drew me. I realized no matter what specific state of emotion I was in when I came across an engine, everything just seemed to fade away, and I was left with a feeling that can only be described as bliss. Hence the alias Enginethusiast: a person that is mentally and physically affected by an engine [laughs].
Do you think it’s because the objects are man-made, taking materials otherwise idle and putting it in motion? Yes, I do. When it comes to my own personal projects, I am forced to dream and imagine the final outcome. There is something incredible about that process. Materials being used in a new way, transforming an object into something of your choosing, the options are endless. I knew that by photographing other people’s passion projects, I would gain insight into their process. It started as a way to connect with people who shared a common interest with me. As I spent time talking with each person, I saw their eyes light up as they described their history with the item, the hard work they poured in, and I was hooked. I look forward to each motorcycle and car that I get to photograph.
I understand you were in the military. Can you tell us about that experience and how it shaped you? Shortly after the September 11 attacks, I enlisted in the United States Air Force. My AFSC (job) was only allowed overseas, so I went in knowing I was going to have to pretty much say goodbye to the good ol’ U.S. of A. It was an eye-opening experience for me. I lived primarily in Europe, and due to my close proximity, I did many tours in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom.
After growing up in Alabama, you can imagine how almost eight years away from U.S. soil molded my view of the world. I could barely relate to the average person. I normally worked with a small team every day, including translators for whichever country we were currently in. The one thing that particularly stuck out to me was how influential motorcycles were in foreign countries. Growing up, in my mind, motorcycles were a form of entertainment or for weekend warriors, never a singular means of transportation. I wanted to experience this feeling with them, but the opportunity rarely presented itself.
You’ve expressed that motorcycles “saved your life.” How? Due to my success in the U.S. Air Force, I was fortunate to make rank and pass the WAPS (weighted airman performance standard) fairly quickly, but in turn this prevented me from ever having the opportunity to change jobs, or take a suitable position to be able to relocate back to the U.S.. So after seven years, I decided to honorably finish my enlistment and join civilian life. Imagine my surprise when I returned home and friends were married with kids, many having moved on to greener pastures. The friends I once had were still overseas continuing their military careers or were nationals of other countries. Basically, my home felt foreign and distant, unrecognizable. Many of today’s veterans suffer from PTSD, which I struggled with during this time. It’s easy to give up. It’s harder to find that lifeline to hold on to.
Employment was non-existent and housing was questionable at best. Through an old contact, I was put in touch with the French Foreign Legion, but later backed out when I received an offer of employment with the United States Postal Service in St. Louis. I packed my few belongings and drove my heavily knocking SUV from Alabama to Missouri in a day. Unfortunately, the offer was rescinded. After living and driving on the Autobahn for seven years, let’s just say I had a pretty heavy lead foot. Due to the three speeding tickets I had received since returning home, I was ineligible to use a government-owned mail carrier vehicle. And while I’m receiving the bad news my motor blows.
It began to look as if life had a sense of humor that was escaping my comprehension, and truthfully I didn’t see a solution other than a permanent one, since now I had missed my opportunity to join the French Foreign Legion. Right around this time, a guy pulls into the gas station riding a “cafe racer”. From the looks of him, we were around the same age. He had this smile that literally made me take a second glance. I remember asking myself, “What in life is so great that this guy is smiling ear-to-ear about?” I slowly noticed it was the bike. It was the wind, the torque, the speed, and the thrill. I quickly concluded that if I got myself a motorcycle, life would be better. It had to be, right?
It sounds like the motorcycle was a sort of doorway to a reinvigorated passion for life. Almost like you were able to give yourself a new purpose by curating, resurrecting, and stewarding these machines. I would agree that my interest in motorcycles was a doorway that helped resuscitate my passion for life. Trying to integrate back into society was difficult, to say the least. After missing out on a job I was counting on, the easiest thing to do was to give up. I knew I had to pick myself up and move forward, but I wasn’t sure where to start. That’s when I saw the guy at the gas station on his “cafe racer”. Although I didn’t know him personally, he seemed calm and at ease, out enjoying the day with a smile on his face, and I wanted that. I wanted to transport myself out of my tough time. I bought a CB550, and although most of the parts were stripped off and stolen, it still gave me a new hobby and something to dream about. My passion was ignited, and yes, I had to make a choice then and there that I could do this — I could find ways to distract myself and heal.
Do you have any advice for other veterans out there who may be experiencing similar circumstances? Give it time. Don’t rush yourself, and don’t pressure yourself. Find something that interests you, and dive in head first. No matter how small or large, let your passion lead and heal you.
What build/project are you most proud of thus far? I am extremely proud of #27. It has more of a personal connection than many realize. After seeing that guy in St. Louis with the “cafe racer”, I spent my last few dollars getting a “ran when parked” CB550. Never officially having a license, nor having any knowledge of motorcycles, I had this wild notion I was going to rebuild the old bike and use it, since I couldn’t afford a motor rebuild in my now scrap metal SUV. Not having a stable residence to even begin to work on the bike, slowly bits of the bike were stolen and possibly scrapped out. Eventually I was left with only a frame. It was a sad time in my life, but looking back on it now, it kept me busy, it kept me dreaming. That’s the only way I made it through what I consider to be the darkest moments of my life — and that’s saying a lot after living through multiple convoys downrange.
What’s next for Enginethusiast? Continue to grow. Currently my girlfriend Melissa Bryan provides a lot of the expertise. We have tackled many shoots together and she’s been willing to do a number of shoots alone when I was unavailable. I couldn’t picture Enginethusiast without her. The only next things for Enginethusiast are to continue shooting, writing, filming, building, and lending a helping hand to our nation’s veterans. Stay enthused.
This article first appeared in issue 24 of Iron & Air Magazine, and is reproduced here under license | Intro and Interview by Gregory George Moore | Images by Anthony Scott & Melissa Bryan
