Recaro’s Long History Offers Hope That It’s Not Going Away Soon

While an automobile’s design and the sound of its engine might prompt the initial impressions that stir our senses, it’s often the parts of the car we actually touch—positioned just so and perfectly contoured—that make us fall in love. A Momo steering wheel. A shifter by Nardi or Hurst. And, of course, a well-bolstered Recaro seat to keep us planted through the curves of a blissful backroad.

Recent news that Recaro has filed for bankruptcy came as a shock to the company’s employees, and perhaps to the car enthusiast community as a whole, too. After all, this is Recaro we’re talking about here—an almost universally-known brand with a history spanning almost 120 years, available as OEM equipment from a variety of manufacturers, and a reputation for excellence. It’s a surprise that such a well-established company should find itself drowning in red ink.

Despite the news, there’s plenty of hope to be had for Recaro’s future. First, it’s specifically Recaro Automotive that’s in trouble, rather than the larger parent company. Recaro’s aircraft seating and even the relatively new gaming chair divisions aren’t affected by the bankruptcy, and if the automotive division comes unwound, the value of that brand recognition almost guarantees it’ll be back in some form. But perhaps more importantly, this is hardly the worst challenge the company’s had to endure in its long history.

Originally, Recaro traces its roots to Stuttgart, Germany, and Wilheim Reutter, who established the company in 1906. Reutter was a saddler—specifically a maker of English tack saddles—but like any craftsman, he was curious about what else he could build. At the time, there was considerable crossover between the old world of horse-drawn carriages and embryonic combustion-powered transportation, and Reutter found himself in the middle of that Venn Diagram overlap.

At this time and for decades after, it was very common for automakers to build a steel chassis and powertrain, and then let a coachbuilder clothe it with a body built to a customer’s request. Reutter entered this fray, and business grew quickly. Wilheim’s brother Albert stepped in as a manager just three years later, the company changing its name to Stuttgarter Karosseriewerk Reutter & Co. One of the Reutter’s innovations was a folding fabric convertible top, which was patented as the Reutter Reform-Karosserie.

The Reutters’ coachbuilding work would survive WWI, though founder Wilheim would partially step away from the business, reportedly for health reasons. He didn’t stray too far, however, as evidenced by drawings of a design he created for a 1933 Daimler-Benz Sport Convertible, now found in the collection of New York’s Metropolitan Art Museum. Day-to-day operations were handled by Albert, and the orders poured in, largely from German manufacturers like Horch and Mercedes-Benz, but also Bugatti, Fiat, and even Studebaker. Rather than individual owner orders, the focus was now at-scale series production. One of the largest contracts was for Wanderer, a mid-range brand that was basically the Auto Union’s version of Oldsmobile.

Ferdinand Porsche had done some work on six-cylinder engines for Wanderer, and either because of this connection or the Reutter coachworks reputation in general, Porsche approached them with a contract to build prototypes for a new type of car he was working on: The Volkswagen.

Karosseriewerk Reutter built a number of wood-framed VW prototypes for Porsche, and later the first 40 steel-bodied Type 1 pre-production Volkswagens.

But fortunes were about to turn for the family, and the company. On the eve of WWII, Wilheim Reutter passed away. Otto Reutter, who was to join the Karosserie as a manager, died on the Eastern front. A 1944 Allied air raid on Stuttgart destroyed most of the factory, and killed both Albert Reutter and his son-in-law.

Incredibly, the firm clung on to life, and the post-war rebuilding of Germany provided a new business: Building coachwork for working trucks like buses and postal vans. The employee roster doubled towards the end of the 1940s, which is when Dr. Porsche came calling again, fresh from prison in France.

The Porsche chapter of Recaro’s origin story—probably its best-known roots—begins here, but it’s worth pointing out that coachbuilding operations stretched far and wide all through the 1950s. Reutter built a number of prototypes for the American designer Brooks Stevens, including a couple of Jeeps and a trio of hardtop-convertible 1959 Chrysler Scimitar showcars. The work only stopped because of developments with Porsche.

Having handbuilt the early 356 in Gmund, Austria, Dr. Porsche was looking to expand production. Karosseriewerk Reutter was tapped to build 500 356s, fabricating basically every part besides the driveline. Among those many parts were, of course, the seats.

Here’s where hints at the future of Recaro really start to emerge. Among the patterns on offer for the nylon fabric covering of the 356 seats was a white-and-black pattern that would evolve into something of a company signature. Mistakenly referred to as “Houndstooth,” this early pattern is properly referred to as Pepita, and became part of Porsche heritage along the way (in other color combos too).

In 1956, the 50^th anniversary for Reutter, some 10,000 Porsche bodies had been produced. By 1963, Karosseriewerk Reutter had built the first 901—the name later changed to 911 when Peugeot claimed copyright on three-digit model names with a central 0. With Porsche such a huge direct manufacturing partner, it made sense to combine operations, and Porsche bought out and took over the Stuttgart body factory.

Karosseriewerk Reutter rebranded in 1963 as Recaro (Re-for-Reuter, Caro-for-Karosserie), and focused on seats. As an OEM supplier to Porsche, it already had a good bread-and-butter business plan, and began expanding into the aftermarket scene. The first to arrive was the Sportsitz in 1965, a sports-seat with plenty of lateral bolstering that was standard equipment in the 911S, or could be retrofitted to many other sporting machines.

Recaro’s first sport seat doesn’t seem that revolutionary, but outside of racing cars, most seats did little to hold the driver in place in a turn. Not having to cling to the steering wheel to remain in position as the lateral gs climb is clearly a performance advantage, even on the street, and the seats became popular. Recaro followed up with a fixed-back, racing-inspired shell seat in 1967.

By 1969, the last of the Reutter family had been bought out, and the company was now run as Keiper Recaro. The early 1970s saw greater diversification, with a line of aircraft seating launched in 1972, and an FIA-approved motorsport offering was added in 1974. You still see Recaro seats aboard most Lufthansa flights, and the brand is still a common go-to when putting together a race or rally build.

Over the years, Recaro’s seats have notched up several firsts. It was the first company to offer a seat with adjustable bolsters, the first seat with an integrated seat belt, the first fully power-adjustable aftermarket seat. And, in the not-entirely-needed technology department, last year it came out with a composite aftermarket seat with a bluetooth-enabled app.

Mostly, though, like a set of Brembo brake calipers peeking out from behind alloy wheels, seeing Recaros in a car is a nod to its performance intent. They might be factory fitment, as found on the Shelby GT-350, BMW M2, sporting trims of the Mazda MX-5, or of course any number of Porsches. Or, they might be the crowning touch on a period-correct build, finished in vintage fabric and finishing the look of a tidily modified VR6 Corrado.

This is not the first hardship or evolution for Recaro, though what the future holds for the automotive seating division remains to be seen. Hopefully the brand will be able to successfully leverage the restructuring process and stick around for the future, and continue to enable customizers and manufacturers alike to add a seat that provides that perfect special touch to their interiors.