On the hills of Susegana, framed by vineyards and the walls of Castello di San Salvatore, Akira Nakai’s cigarette smoke drifted slowly upward as he built on a 964 Carrera 4, the second RWB ever completed in Italy. I was there with my camera as Nakai shaped another chapter of his craft: a silent ritual of millimetric measurements, cuts, and rivets, staged in the heart of Veneto.
This car belongs to Nicolò Iammarino, the creator behind Passione Motori. For him, RWB wasn’t just an aesthetic choice; it was a dream planted years ago, born in front of a screen.
From Game to Dream
Like many of us, Nicolò’s first encounter with RWB came through Need for Speed (2015). Those digital Porsches wide, low, raw felt like they came from another world. Curiosity turned real the day he drove Alvise’s RWB, the first RWB made in Italy.
“I realized it isn’t just a show car,” Nicolò says. “It actually drives really well. That’s when I knew I wanted one of my own.”
The idea took shape in 2024, when he saw Nakai at work in Venice, crafting the first Italian RWB live. Watching him move quiet, methodical, cigarette always in hand was the spark. Nicolò didn’t even own a Porsche yet, but the decision was already made.
“I told myself: one day, Nakai will build mine.”
The Donor and the Choice
Every RWB starts with what Nakai calls a “donor car.” For Nicolò it’s a 1989 Porsche 964 Carrera 4 Mk1, manual, original engine, and—eagle-eyed readers will notice Mk2 mirrors.
He deliberately chose the Carrera 4 over the 2. “After driving Alvise’s car, I loved how it handled. I wanted the same sensations.” When the 964 arrived, it was stripped and reborn, a blend of precision and imperfection, as every RWB should be. What Nakai leaves behind isn’t just a car; it’s a fingerprint: every cut, every flare, every rivet slightly different each time, yet unmistakably his.
Nakai’s Method
The motions are simple, almost elementary; the execution is obsessive. Measure, mark, recheck, then cut. Dry-fit the panels, study the fitment in profile, pull it back by a millimeter. Rivets run in line as if laid to a metronome. There’s no rush, only rhythm.
The day, the rain, the rhythm
The day began perfectly: car on stands, references marked, first measurements on the arches. Then the first drops. Within minutes, the rain came hard enough to make you think the whole thing might go sideways. Nakai didn’t stop. He shifted a couple of tarps, changed his stance, kept the same pace, same patience. Measure, mark, recheck. The weather raised its voice; he carried on undeterred.
The cut that hurts (and the magic that follows)
The first cuts sting. Watching a classic Porsche opened up—bare metal, raw edges hurts a little. But within a few passes, the magic peeks through. The profiles start to speak; the fitment gains shape; the stance widens. What felt like sacrilege a moment earlier turns into form: lines align, clearances make sense, and the 964 begins to look like itself only truer, wider, more its own.
Now watch the seal: masking tape goes down perfectly straight; a consistent bead is laid along the seam. He tools it in one controlled pass, finishing with a subtle finger glide that looks effortless, it isn’t. The tape lifts away in a single, smooth pull at a shallow angle, leaving a crisp, even meniscus that both locks and finishes the joint. That edge is where the build stops being merely “fitted” and becomes resolved. Around him, the air stays calm: essential tools, few words, many checks. Each check is a confirmation; each confirmation a step forward.
A Shade Between Light and Shadow
The color became a story of its own. The options were purple, white, black, or gold. Gold tempted, but felt too loud. Purple was the one.
It’s a deep violet that shifts toward black in the shade and shows a red hue in the sun, mysterious, alive.
“I’ve always loved purple,” he says. “It’s elegant yet aggressive.”
The Italian Touch
From the start, Nicolò wanted his 964 to carry an Italian soul in everything that wasn’t Nakai’s hand: wheels, interior, paint, and exhaust。
Wheels: BTS creawheels, designed and built to measure for this car: a contemporary take on the iconic Watanabe, with taut spokes, deep barrels, and concavity tailored to the RWB-wide 964. (Sizes and offsets to be added.)
Exhaust: Ragazzon, two setups: show (a fully straight line, not road-legal) and street (homologated, no valves, with silencer) to keep the voice without sacrificing daily usability.
Paintwork: the shifting violet (blackish in shade, reddish in sunlight) executed in Italy, underscoring the brief: respect the RWB school, sign it with Italian craftsmanship.
Interior: Medicistyleatelier: original layout retained, black leather and violet Alcantara with violet stitching; dash, door cards, and belts carry violet accents; Alcantara wheel with white stitching and “Ikigai” kanji at center.
Built to Be Driven
“It’s not meant to sit still,” he says. “That’s why I kept the seats comfortable, not race-style. I want to enjoy every kilometer.”
That’s where his RWB stands apart: engineered for the road, not just the spotlight, a car to live with.
A Family of One-Offs
By day’s end, the RWB was ready and the RWB family had grown by one. Every RWB is unique, no two are alike. Owning one isn’t just possession; it’s belonging. “You become part of a family”, Nicolò says. That’s Nakai’s legacy: not just a brand, but a brotherhood of craftsmanship, where each car carries a soul of its own.
