Where it started: MSTRMND’s first RWB shoot
In 2018, during my second year living in Estonia, I came across a post in a local Facebook group asking for something oddly specific – a leather armchair for Akira Nakai. Alongside that request was an open invitation: come to Carmus and witness the transformation of a Porsche 993 into a Rauh-Welt Begriff creation.
At that time, I had only just begun to understand my interest in automotive photography. I didn’t have a driver’s license, didn’t fully know what to expect, and wasn’t even completely sure the whole thing was real. But I got on a bus anyway.
A small cluster of Porsches in the parking lot was the first confirmation. Inside, the atmosphere felt almost accidental – not like an organized event, but like stepping into something that was already in motion. And there he was. Akira Nakai, quietly working on the 993.
No stage, no distance, no formalities. Just a man, a car, and a process that felt raw and immediate. Measurements were taken directly from the body. Panels were cut without hesitation. There were no visible templates, no digital tools – only instinct, repetition, and years of experience guiding each decision.
For a photographer, it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
I tried to capture everything – every movement, every angle, every fleeting detail. Hands covered in dust, sparks cutting through air, the growing tension between destruction and creation. That urgency, however, came at a cost. In trying to document everything, I learned an early lesson: not every moment needs to be chased. Some need to be understood first. Over the course of two days, space evolved. What began as something quiet and almost private gradually opened up. More people arrived. Conversations replaced silence. The owner of the car brought food and drinks, and the workshop shifted into something closer to a shared experience.
Somewhere in between frames and conversations, I met people who would later become close friends – my first real connections in Estonia.
The process itself resisted clean description. It was tactile, imperfect, and deeply human. The sound of cutting tools against metal. The smell hanging in the air. The application of black sealant along the wide arches – not hidden, but emphasized, becoming part of the aesthetic rather than something to conceal.
Slowly, the Porsche 993 began to lose its original identity. What emerged wasn’t just a modified car, but a reinterpretation – something shaped as much by personality as by design.
There were small, almost mundane moments that stayed just as clearly. A pause for noodles and Coca-Cola. Laughter. And, at one point, an accidental blackout I caused while searching for a power outlet – briefly turning all attention away from the car and onto myself.
By the end of the second day, the transformation was complete.
Outside, in the open air, Akira Nakai signed the car, stepped inside, and took it out for its first drive. A simple act, but one that carried the weight of everything that had happened before it. The reaction was immediate – not loud, but deeply felt. The owner had his car. Everyone else had witnessed something few ever get to see up close.
Looking back at those images now, I see more than just a build process. I see a turning point. Not only in how I approached photography, but in how I understood the value of being present – of observing, not just capturing. The photographs themselves remain exactly as they were edited back in 2018. I never went back to rework them, and in a way, that matters – they reflect not only the moment, but also my eye and my understanding at that time.
It wasn’t just about a car. It was about process, people, and the moment where something ordinary becomes unmistakably personal.
EDIT
PHOTOGRAPHER
CAR OWNER
RWB
Saturday Drivers @saturday_drivers
Vladislav Neykovich @mstrmnd_photography
Eitan Tamir @rwb_fin.est
Akira Nakai @rwb_rauhweltbegriff
EDIT
PHOTOGRAPHER
CAR OWNER
RWB
Saturday Drivers
Vladislav Neykovich
Eitan Tamir
Akira Nakai
