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A bond born from an adolescent passion. For Ermanno Cozza, Maserati means more than just a job. For sixty years, it has represented the driver of creativity, the pleasure of relations and a technological adventure that today has become a commitment to passing on facts and traditions. A demonstration of absolute loyalty to a brand that represents the excellent style, performance and sporting flair of Italian car manufacturing Words Alessandro Giudice Photography Alessandro Barteletti Video Andrea Ruggeri Archive Courtesy of Maserati Archive Ermanno Cozza was born in 1933, and has spent 60 years of his life in a magical bubble of creativity, quality, genius and above all people. Some of the episodes in his story may seem simple, yet in fact they reveal all the thrills and tensions behind a four-wheel legend that, with the same aplomb, has won many a victory on the track and captured the hearts of enthusiasts on the road. A long and sometimes winding road, which began with three resourceful brothers from Bologna and continued with the enterprise of a man from Modena. All driven by the desire to offer an excellent product with innovative solutions, based on the dedication, passion and sacrifice of the people who lived the adventure on the front line. People like Ermanno Cozza, who has kept every moment he spent at Maserati like a precious gem, a memory that comes across as emotional even more than historical, from where the value of the individuals who created the “Trident” magic clearly emerges. [click to watch the video]   Ermanno Cozza fell in love with Maserati because of Alfa Romeos, a Guzzi motorbike and a football, precisely in that order. The Alfas were the ones that Enzo Ferrari raced with his team, close to where Ermanno, aged 9, would pass by when going from his home in Collegarola, a small hamlet on the outskirts of town, to visit his aunts who ran a grocers shop near Vignola, outside the city, and to his uncle Achille’s restaurant, in Via Usiglio on the corner of Via Ciro Menotti. When he went home in the afternoon, he would fiddle about with the Moto Guzzi that belonged to Vito, a boy who lived in the same building: “I wanted to take it apart and hide it from the Nazis, who at the time were requisitioning anything that had an engine, and he was very fond of that motorbike,” Cozza recalls. It was then that, unscrewing a bolt, removing a part, handling connecting rods and pistons and discovering the secrets of the engine, that the young Ermanno developed a passion for all things mechanical that was to stay with him throughout his life. And the Alfa Romeos? Well, here a friend of his comes into the picture: older and skilled with engines, he had Ermanno's full attention, even when he dismissed the red cars he saw every day along Via Trento e Trieste in just a few words: “He said: ‘Nah, those are made in Milan, not here. If you want to see a real racing car you have to go down to Via Ciro Menotti, just before the level crossing. That’s where the “Fratelli Maserati” are, they’re from Bologna, they do everything themselves. They don’t have any engineers, they do the drawings, the designs and then they build the racing cars themselves, from the engine to the bodywork, with a few of the mechanical parts coming from a factory in Porretta Terme. They won a really important race in the United States [ed.: the 1939 Indianapolis 500]’. That was when the name Maserati got into my head and never left.” A name that wasn't new to Ermanno, because it was written on the triporteurs and electric vans that he saw around the province, delivering materials and machine tools: “They had huge batteries, not like the ones we have today, they could run for 50-60 km but solved the problem of petrol and diesel shortages.” Then one day, while he was playing football on a field near home, he saw a group of people chatting together, and one of his friends said that the guy with the hat was ‘Commendatore” (“Commander”) Orsi, the boss of Maserati, that he had moved from Bologna to Modena. Ermanno was impressed, and when the ball rolled in their direction he (a rather timid introvert) picked up the courage to introduce himself to the gentleman: “I told him that one day I would like to work at Maserati and he asked me who I was and what I did: ‘When you finish school, come and see me and we’ll see what we can do’. And that’s what I did,” Cozza remembers with a smile half-way between satisfaction and nostalgia. Because in the meantime Ermanno continued to cultivate his passion for mechanics at the Corni Technical Institute, a veritable institution in Modena that trained the best mechanics in the area that went on to be known as Motor Valley: “It was a kind of university, set up by an industrial magnate from Modena who needed workers for his company, but was surrounded by a community of farmers.” But the year of his diploma did not end well, and Ermanno was forced to resit the exam in September (“In Italian too, because we only spoke dialect and so it was hard to speak proper Italian and impossible to write it”). 1954 – Ermanno Cozza at the Maserati Testing Department with Antonio Reggiani Fortunately though, he passed the exam in September and, diploma in his pocket, Ermanno headed straight for Maserati, in Via Ciro Menotti 322, on his way home. He demanded to speak to the “Commendatore”, but the porter said he wasn’t in, and they got into a heated discussion when, by pure chance, right at that moment Adolfo Orsi came through the gatehouse and asked what was going on. When Ermanno explained who he was, Orsi told him to make an application through the correct channels and then he would look into it. And so it was. 28 October 1951, his first day at work, marked the start of one of the longest, varied and in some respects legendary careers in the history of Maserati. A career that began in the Control Centre, where he had to check the quality of the parts produced, and then moved on to the tooling room, from where he was picked by the engineer Bellentani to work in the “esperienze” department. “There were two of Maserati's most skilled engineers, Leoni and Reggiani, who everyone called “the doctor” because he had a habit of resting a screwdriver on the running engine and putting his ear to the handle, listening as if it was a stethoscope. He was really good, and after a few years working for Ferrari in Maranello, and in America for the importer Chinetti, he came back home after an accident that kept him in bed for two months, when he discovered that he wasn’t insured by the company. So he sent them to hell and went to work for Maserati.” And it is precisely Antonio Reggiani, AKA Tonino, born in 1913, who Cozza was most fond of and who he misses the most: “He treated me like a son, he taught me everything. And if I came up with something he would always give me the merit, even though he was my superior.” 1955 – Experimental Department. Cozza working on the prototype of the first 150S engine.   The relations between Ferrari and Maserati were quite chilly, although they had a tacit agreement not to steal each other’s top men. Just think that the back of the house where the Orsi family lived in Via Sabatini looked over the courtyard of the Ferrari factory, and both Adolfo Orsi and Enzo Ferrari often took their drivers to eat at the Cantoni restaurant nearby: “There was never more than a nod of the head when they met. When Ferrari wanted to know what was new at Maserati, he didn’t even say its name: ‘What are they up to down there?’ he would ask. There was respect, but also a kind of love/hate relationship.” One thing that became part of Cozza’s DNA is that he too has trouble calling Enzo Ferrari by name, instead using the more distant and generic “the one from Maranello”. Adolfo Orsi   Even though he spent most of his time working on competition cars, he hardly ever went to the races. In 1953: “That year I even worked on Christmas Day. The cars had been shipped to Argentina in late October for the Temporada. They were the old F2s, the new ones were being completed. But we had a technical innovation that needed to be designed and tested.” This was the De Dion suspension, which had the differential joined to the gearbox. Valerio Colotti, a designer who had come to Maserati after working for Ferrari, had begun to design it in September after the head of the Maserati esperienze department, Vittorio Bellentani, had sent him to Monza to “watch” the Mercedes track tests, and see how the rear of the German car was made. Cozza recalls: “The Autodromo director, Giuseppe Bacciagaluppi, got him some Pirelli overalls so that he would blend in and not be noticed.” Right after the Mercedes went off the road, replacing a rear wheel one of the mechanics covered the tail of the car, but not quickly enough to prevent Colotti from taking a mental photo of what he had seen, the De Dion suspension, which he then did even better, turning it into a masterpiece. And so on 25 December 1953 they decided on the engine to be used by Fangio, and the following day, Boxing Day, in the winter fog and a temperature of just 2 or 3 °C, the test driver Guerino Bertocchi tested the 250 F with a new engine and the De Dion suspension at the “Aeroautodromo” in Modena. “After a few laps of the track, he stopped, took off his gloves, pulled off his goggles and said to us, all hanging on his words: ‘Now that’s what I call a real car!’. The following day we all went to Malpensa to load the cars on the plane for Buenos Aires.” This was just the first stage of a mission that was heading for perfection, and not only in sporting terms. Indeed, while the team and the drivers Fangio and Marimón were showing the cars to General Perón, who knew Italy well having attended the Military Academy in Modena, Commendator Orsi signed an agreement with some manufacturers to supply 50 machine tools made by one of the factories owned by his family. On the day of the Grand Prix, Sunday 17 January, with the Ferraris in pole position on the starting line and for much of the race, the weather was what actually helped the Maserati 250 F, “considered by the sports press to be an evergreen car.” Its engine, developed in the close-to-zero temperatures of the Po Valley and running at over 40 degrees in South America, in the pouring rain that cooled the air an hour into the race, began to work at full power, and Juan Manuel Fangio shot off into the lead, with the single-seater winning its début race. The result was repeated during the first European race of the season, on the Belgian circuit at Spa-Francochamps, before the Argentine driver moved to Mercedes-Benz. Argentine driver Juan Manuel Fangio and Italian Maserati driver Maria Teresa De Filippis engaged in a pleasant conversation during the Monaco Grand Prix Talking about the Argentine champion, Cozza states: “Fangio was a mechanic, a guy who knew his cars. He was also a saver, and never pushed the engine to the max. When we offered him an injection engine for the 250 F, he said he preferred to carburettor version, even though it developed around twenty HP less: ‘I’ll get them out of her, don't you worry’. He was a lovely person, really pleasant but terribly suspicious: when he tested a car, he always wanted someone to be there to make sure that nobody could get close. Those were the days when the driver counted for 51-52% of the success, but gradually cars have taken over in percentage terms. Who were the best drivers at that time? Nuvolari, Fangio, Surtees, Jim Clark.” The trip to South America would have been perfect, had it not been for the fact that after the dozens of machine tools under Orsi’s agreement were delivered, a military coup overthrew President Peron and the supply was never paid for by the industrial companies but only through wheat supplies sent by the Argentine government to the Italian government, which then gave the equivalent in cash to Maserati only five years later, in 1959. The matter put the company into receivership: “I remember that when we began to make the 3500, we bought ZF gearboxes from Germany, and the orders were signed and the payments authorised by an official at the bank. This was a humiliation for Commendator Orsi, who sold off his personal property to close the procedure in six months,” Cozza explains. But it was also the time when they had to disband the Racing Department: “Called in by Orsi, all the staff confirmed their willingness to work without pay until the matter had been resolved: ‘You will pay us when you can,’ said Brancolini, an engineer who spoke on behalf of everyone. With tears in his eyes, Orsi replied that he had found other positions for all of them: ‘Two to Ferrari, one to Centro Sud, one set up his own business and another went to Weber’.”   1956 – At the Experimental Department, Reggiani, Manfredini, Argentine driver Bonnen, and Ermanno Cozza (on the right) discuss the astonishing power of the new 450S engine. 1963 saw the birth of one of the Trident's most extraordinary and iconic cars, the Quattroporte, which was an obsession for Orsi who couldn’t believe that his business colleagues bought Mercedes, Jaguars or even Rolls-Royces. “It was the car for Italian and European businessmen, and I had to solve a big problem,” Cozza continues. It all came about when the engineer Alfieri received a phone call from the Swiss dealer Sonvico: one of his clients in Lausanne had complained that on the kilometre of cobbles leading up to his house, sitting the rear seats of the Quattroporte - the third one to be delivered - you couldn’t talk or hear anything because of the noise made by the suspensions. “The engineer called me and said ‘get a sound meter and tell me where I can find a dirt track near the factory’, and I took him to one near Vignola that seemed like a dump site. The values recorded were really high, too high for a luxury sedan.” It was a technical problem, the shock absorbers sent the wheel vibrations to the bodywork which was in steel sheet and not tubular. “One evening Orsi came by and saw me working on a Quattroporte, and asked, ‘Well?’ and I replied ‘We can't solve this one, commendatore. And just think, two thousand years ago the Romans had chariots with leaf springs’. It was a moment of enlightenment, and the next day we mounted these on the rest of the production.” 1965 – Modena Circuit. Ermanno Cozza posing next to the Mistral for a photo shoot 1978 – With Gigi Villoresi, Ermanno Cozza discusses the engine of the Maserati Merak 2000 On his many business trips, in 1968 Orsi also met the chairman of Citroën, who asked him for an aluminium six-cylinder engine for a future four-seater gran turismo coupé because, he said, ‘our engines are too heavy and cumbersome’: “When the commendator told us, Alfieri and I had the same idea. We made the engine from an eight-cylinder, cutting two of them off to make a special 6-cylinder with a 90-degree V cut. A compact engine designed for front-wheel drive, to be assembled with the gearbox.” Meanwhile, the Michelin family, who owned Citroën at the time, was interested in buying out Maserati: “Commendator Orsi was already getting on, his son Omer was becoming ill and his sons, the engineer Roberto and the doctor Adolfo, were still just kids.” Citroën bought all the shares in 1970, but there was no particular interference: Maserati continued with its production, in addition to twenty or so C114 engines for the SM, launched in the same year. The oil crisis of 1973 put Michelin in trouble, and among the sale of many of its collateral businesses was also Maserati, which was taken over by the Italian government via GEPI, the public financial corporation set up to help companies in difficulty. And that was when Alejandro De Tomaso, Argentine driver and businessman who had at the time of Citroën’s entry into the company tried to take Maserati into Chrysler, came back into the picture. He bought out the first 30% of the company and took over its management, thanks to the experience gained in his own company Automobili De Tomaso: “Every year he bought another 5-10% of the GEPI stake and ended up with the full ownership of Maserati. He did the same thing with Innocenti, abandoned by British Leyland with 3000 employees, which GEPI forced him to purchase.” De Tomaso thought that he could solve the world crisis with a small car (to avoid the VAT rate of 38%) but powerful and prestigious like a luxury car: “And that’s how the Biturbo was born. In 1981 the engineer Bertocchi, son of the historical Maserati test driver, who had left to work for De Tomaso after Citroën had put a French technician in charge, returned to Maserati. One day he called me into the test room to watch the tests of the 2-litre V6 with twin-turbo. It went like a dream, a great 180 HP engine, but in the end, I asked De Tomaso, who was also there: ‘This is all fine now in October, but what will it do in the spring when the temperatures rise?’. I should have kept my mouth shut: ‘What do you mean? What do you know about engines?’ I didn't answer, but the whole production suffered from overheating, along with a number of other problems due to the rush to get it on the road.” These problems did not change De Tomaso's plans, and the production continued until 1997, even after Maserati was bought out by FIAT (1989) with many different names and versions (the last was called Ghibli), all coupés and spyders. Alejandro De Tomaso was not an easy man to get along with: he was an authoritarian with a short temper, and he often spoke harshly even to his closest staff: “He tried with me too,” Cozza recalls, “but I went right up to him, my face just inches from his nose, and said: ‘Mr De Tomaso, my name is Cozza. If you need me, call me Cozza and do not dare to use those adjectives that you use with the others.” One day Ermanno was called by De Tomaso who asked him about a detachable crankshaft, a design dating back to 1939 that he had found in a warehouse where Cozza had stored all the Maserati material that Citroën wasn't interested in. He was with the Swiss importer, and was boasting about the finesse of the Maserati technology. “Mr De Tomaso, we have so much of that stuff in the warehouse, it’s a shame to leave it there. He replied: ‘Well you deal with it; I’ll give you a budget to restore and catalogue it all’. The first year he gave me five million lire, the second year twice that.” And this is where the story of the Maserati collection begins, because De Tomaso had set up a company to which he charged all the costs of restoring the cars and cataloguing the documents, so when the company was sold to FIAT, the period cars belonged to the Argentine businessman, who at one point decided to sell them at auction. Word got round in Modena, and to prevent this Italian heritage from being sold off abroad, Omer Orsi’s son, Adolfo, along with Maria Teresa de Filippis, a historical Trident driver, went to Rome to see Veltroni, who was Minister of Cultural Heritage at the time. However, his hands were tied because the whole collection was in England, as sensing the problem, De Tomaso had had it all transferred in a hurry. And this is when one of the Panini brothers, Umberto, came into play. He had been a mechanic and test driver of Maserati motorbikes, which Adolfo Orsi’s sister had begun to build after taking over a bankrupt company from Bologna called Italmoto. After the mother, a widow with five children, had opened a newsagent in Modena, the brother Giuseppe, AKA Peppino, had the idea of the football cards. This winning idea became a huge business, and indeed Peppino was forced to call Umberto back from Venezuela, where he had emigrated and enjoyed his own professional success. “Come home, America is here!”. He came back to Italy and invented the “Fifimatic”, a card bagging machine that sped up the process. Another great success. When they sold the publishing business to the English, Umberto opened a large agricultural holding called Hombre, where they not only make and sell organic Parmigiano-Reggiano but also have a motorbike and tractor museum, which he is passionate about. And he was also the one to be involved in purchasing the Maserati collection: “He took his Fiat 130 to Stanguellini for a service and told him about the cars from the Maserati Museum being auctioned in England. Panini seemed uninterested, but not too much. “Between a rock and a hard place”, as they say. So Stanguellini called Orsi and together they went to see Panini who asked which cars they were: racing and road cars, Cozza did all the restorations and has all the documentation’. How much do they cost? ‘Five or six billion lire’, while his son Matteo asked his father ‘but do we really have all that money?’. ‘Don’t you worry’. And that's how the cars returned to Modena, and today, even only one of them could easily pay off the initial investment.” While Umberto Panini’s intervention saved the tangible heritage of the Trident tradition, ensuring that it remained in Italy, it is thanks to Ermanno’s painstaking work that all the documentation concerning the cars and company events was catalogued. Today this heritage allows the company’s Maserati Classiche division to certify the originality of the cars and the correctness of their restoration, in addition to providing assistance to collectors, historians and enthusiasts with the many archive documents. Returning to the company history, 1997 saw the union with Ferrari, promoted by FIAT with the relaunch project assigned to Luca di Montezemolo, the Ferrari chairman, at a time which, for Cozza, was a happy and especially technological period for the Trident, above all from 2002, when the new Coupé and Spyder models were fitted with a 4.2 l V8 engine produced in Maranello. “It was a natural and absolutely spontaneous birth. It did us good to work with them, a company that shared similar traditions, history and products. If it was up to me, I would seek more partnerships between the two brands.” But of all the dozens of models that have passed him by, which is Ermanno's favourite? “My favourite Maserati is the “Dama Bianca”. This was the 3500 GT prototype with Touring bodywork that came to Modena for the final adjustments and tuning. It was white with blue leather interiors, very elegant, a magnificent car. It came and went from the workshops, and we gave her this nickname to recognise her. When I think of a Maserati, I think of her.” Ermanno Cozza’s precious testimonial offers a view of how things were done from the inside, with all the nuances, anecdotes and intimate moments that were decisive for the history of the Trident, a history that Maserati has written and continues to write, underlining the brand’s excellence in the racing world, in its technique and in its style. With a witness whose love for the company has never waned. “I spent 38 years working for Maserati, and 22 more as a consultant, and I still go there every Wednesday. You never know when they might need a hand.”

Is this a car story with people, or a people story with a car? What you see in the photographs is a car, but it’s not just a car. To really understand, you need to know the people that built it, and the journey they had to make to chase their dreams. This car is the realization of decades of dreams by two aspiring, passionate young people, built on the hope of the American Dream. Words and photographs – Tim Scott/Scott Photo Co. Stanislav (Stanley) Chavik was born in Gottwaldov, Czechoslovakia on September 14th, 1981. I picture this smiling baby with a wrench in one hand and a warm bottle of oil in the other as both his father and grandfather were car guys, and to this day you immediately sense his automotive passion. Growing up on American movies, young Stanislav soon developed a strong affinity for all things Americana. 1989 signaled massive changes in Czechoslovakia with the “Velvet Revolution” and a shift from communist control. In 1990 the first democratic elections were held and in 1992 the former Czechoslovakia split to become the Czech Republic and the Slovak Republic. Stanley’s parents opened a restaurant in Zlin and he and his brother found mechanical focused hobbies to keep busy as the restaurant business kept mom and dad away. He started with motorcycles at 9, and then on to four wheels not long after. It’s not surprising that when people ask him how long he’s been doing this he easily replies, “all of my life”. The other half of Hot Rod Chavik, Daisy Dagmar, was born on March 11th, 1983, in Gottwaldov (now the city of Zlin). Her father is an artist and designer and her mother, who wanted to be a mechanic but was not allowed to under communist rule, instead learned fabrication and worked in an aircraft factory. You could say there was something special in her blood and that creativity and the art of fabrication is in her genes. Daisy is easy to smile, vivacious, attentive, and always alert for connections, creativity and business opportunities. To meet her once is to feel like you’ve known her for years and her passion for her family, personal and hot rod, is immediately obvious. One serendipitous day in 2007, in the city of Zlin, Daisy and Stanley met through mutual friends. Stanley offered Daisy a ride on his motorcycle, and the rest, as they say, is history. Daisy is the organized and business-minded yin to Stanley’s passionate-creative-chaos yang – a match made in heaven. Stanley and Daisy were married in 2008. Stanley had begun his American car journey with a 1980’s era Mustang, which he customized and showed at American focused car shows in the Czech Republic. People started to take notice and were soon inquiring about having Stanley work on their projects. Stanley's first restoration project for a client was a 1967 Ford Thunderbird, followed by a 70's Mustang Mach 1, a ‘66 Mustang coupe, a Plymouth Barracuda, and other American muscle cars from the era. One day a WWII collector entered the shop with a dream opportunity to do a period-correct restoration of his 1941 Dodge WC-Command. This historic vehicle was present on D-Day at Normandy and had quite high historical value – a perfect opportunity for Stanley to show his unique skills and attention to extreme detail. This was a new period for Stanley with more opportunities to work on American automobiles from the 1930s and 40's. Stanley had long dreamed of building lakes-style race cars and hot rods inspired by so many he had seen in the movies. As time passed, he hand-built two traditional hot rods – a ‘32 Edelbrock roadster tribute and a ’34 three-window coupe. Stanley was also very interested in straight-8 Buicks, like the Buick Special and Buick Roadmaster, and bought his own 1939 Buick Special with grand plans to build a chopped, custom car. As his dreams of racing and speed grew, Stanley grew dissatisfied with his Buick, his focus moving more to vintage race cars. Then one day he chanced upon a photograph of the Phil “Red” Shaffer Indy Car, the Shaffer 8 and it all began. Living in the Czech Republic and having to source and ship many historic parts from the USA, this wasn’t going to be easy. Stanley began the daunting task of reverse engineering, fabricating parts and working around rough dimensions. He slowly began to build as exact a replica of the Shaffer 8 as he possibly could. That Shaffer 8 replica, built in the Czech Republic, driven by a vision, sheer passion, and hundreds upon hundreds of hours of work is what you see on these pages. More on this soon. While Stanley built a successful design-engineer-build shop and explored his automotive dreams, Daisy had opened a growing luxury hair salon. On December 31st, 2010, baby Stanley Jr. was born – and life was good. America; the land seen on the silver screen with movie stars, fast cars, unlimited opportunity, and freedom. Stanley and Daisy were raised on American movies, World War II surplus, and imported American cars, so the “American Dream” was firmly planted. They were born under the communist reign in Czechoslovakia, had lived through the oppression and turmoil of the revolution in 1992, and the struggles of the newborn democracy of the Czech Republic, making the American Dream even more appealing. Stanley had long dreamed of living in the USA, so one day when Daisy, said “Let’s move to America!” it took almost no time for an enthusiastic Stanley to say “YES!!!”. Many of the hot rod movies that they had seen were based in the land of sunshine and opportunity – California. With hopes high, they considered Southern California to search for their own American Dream. The first time that they arrived in Huntington Beach, they immediately felt like they had been there before. It felt like home. They went back and watched many of their favorite American hot rod movies and then searched out the actual places where they were filmed and then visited them in person. This was the America they had dreamed of. They found a condo in Huntington Beach and while corresponding with the owner he noticed that their email address said “HotRodChavik” and asked if they were “car guys”. They immediately became great friends, and he went on to help them in so many ways as they started their journey to becoming Americans. Stanley, Daisy and Stanley Jr. “came here to be American”. What does that even mean? If you watch old American western movies it looks like America is the Wild West, filled with open lands, outlaws and cowboys. If you watch the next generation of movies, America is a land of great opportunity and hope, filled with people who love their cars and motorcycles. Growing up watching these movies you can see the grand appeal of a place like this for people growing up under the thumb of communism and repression. The dream that had begun so many years before was slowly becoming more than a dream. Now, fueled by hope and passion it was time to begin the truly hard work to build their dream business not far from their Huntington Beach home, Hot Rod Chavik, in Orange, California. Four months after landing in Los Angeles, California, the Shaffer 8 arrived and has been gathering crowds everywhere it goes ever sense. Hot Rod Chavik now is bustling, building cars for people and even well-known museums. The Shaffer 8 has been the recipient of many awards to date including events such as The Grand National Roadster Show (first place, racing category), La Jolla Concours (Best of Show), Huntington Beach Concours (first place, racing category), Highway Earth Car Show (Jay Leno’s Best of Show pick), and others, and has been featured in magazines and stories around the world. Using a combination of as many original parts as possible, custom fabricated parts and built on a meticulously crafted chassis, their ethos of “perfection is not optional” comes to life for each and every one of their clients. With a love for classic restorations and custom builds, Hot Rod Chavik truly builds what they love with clients who are passionate and collaborative in the process – and it shows. Ok, you’ve met the people, now let’s get into what you’re here for–this stunning 1936/‘38/‘39 Buick. Back to the Czech Republic. Stanley’s dream was to craft something incredibly special that for one reason or another no longer existed. This is where the pictures of the Indy car called the Victory Gasket Special come back into the story. Phil “Red” Shaffer had been quite a success around the Indy circuit. Between 1925 and 1934 seven of his cars had qualified for the Indy 500. In 1935, Shaffer had three Victory Gasket Special, Buick-powered cars attempting to qualify for Indy. During qualifying, one of his drivers, Stubby Stubblefield and his mechanic, were killed and the car destroyed when their car went over the retaining wall. This is the car that Stanley would painstakingly recreate. Stanley had the Buick engine that he had picked up as part of a project years before. With the photographs he had found, he reverse engineered the specifications. He determined that the original car had a 105-inch wheelbase. Using the pictures as reference he painstakingly built a frame as the foundation of his own Shaffer 8. With his love for using original parts, he started with the 1936 straight-8 engine, a 1936 3-speed transmission, 1938 brakes and 1939 rear axle from the previous project. Other than a few various other parts he had to build the rest of the parts himself. The frame, the grill, and the body parts were all beat into submission by hand, using the tools that Stanley had made himself. He used the well-loved photographs he’d been carrying as reference to get the forms and shapes as close as possible to the original. After focusing meticulously on every detail he could discover, the “new” Victory Gasket Special was revealed in the Czech Republic in June 2017. Needless to say, this car received much attention around the city of Zlin and many newspaper and magazine stories created a lot of buzz about Stanley and Hot Rod Chavik. This brings us back to a few years later when the decision was boldly made to find their American Dream. Driving the Shaffer 8 (and drive it Stanley does!) has garnered a lot of attention in America as well. The interesting thing was that Stanley and Daisy had originally planned to sell the car to help fund the new shop. Fortunately, this didn’t end up needing to happen and the car has now gone on to inspire people here in America and attract commissioned builds for their now thriving shop in Orange, CA. Stanley Jr. seems to have inherited a lot of the Chavik magic genes. At 13 years old he’s already in the family business, contributing design ideas and supporting the marketing efforts. He’s learning the craft of fabrication with Stanley Sr. and creativity and business skills needed to succeed with Daisy – two generations, side-by-side, sharing passions from past generations to present and on to the next. Stanley Jr. is already pushing into the future, having earned diplomas at ID Tech camp, for Robotic Engineering and 3D modeling. Young people like this are the future of automotive engineering and development and we truly need more young people like this to keep this passion we all share alive and well. In so many ways this story lives up to the proverbial “American Dream” – people with big dreams coming to America with hopes to build a successful business and a life, and through determination, endless faith, and a lot of hard work, begin to build a life that so many can only dream of. And the dream continues as they work every day to not only build cars, but to build a future, a reputation and a life that they always dreamed of, one car at a time. Details: Vehicle: 1933 Buick Shafer 8 – Victory Gasket Special tribute Owners: Stanley & Daisy Chavik, Hot Rod Chavik, Orange, CA. www.hotrodchavik.com Engine: 248 Straight 8 Buick Carb: 4 Stromberg 97s Trans: 5-Speed Shifter: Custom hand-made Front axle: Forged I-beam Bendix Rear axle: Custom-made posi Springs: Hand-made Shocks: GM lever shocks - late 30's Brakes: Buick 1938 Headlights: 1933 Buick Taillights: Chevy 39 Wheels: Custom, special-order, 72 spoke rolled edge w/knock-offs About the author: Tim Scott Tim Scott is a creative director, photographer, writer, and storyteller based in Los Angeles, California. Always on the hunt for images and moments that inspire, Tim’s work is both timeless and modern. Offering a taste of days past, his focus on black and white feels just right for the historic Americana subject matter often in front of his lens. Tim’s motorsports photographs and writing has been published in books and magazines such as HOT ROD Magazine, Hop Up Magazine, and Men’s File Magazine. His work has also been exhibited in galleries, museums and is held in exclusive private collections worldwide.

Only true car lovers and historians would recognize the Monteverdi badge. Perhaps even fewer would know that its creator, Peter Monteverdi—the last Swiss luxury car maker—had once been a racing car driver of some repute. While plenty of column inches cover his exploits in the design and manufacturing world, this story delves more deeply into the lesser-told, and wildly mixed, fortunes of his racing career. Words Sean Campbell Photography Paolo Carlini Archive Courtesy of Monteverdi Archive - Verkehrshaus der Schweiz Peter Monteverdi during the construction of the Monteverdi Hai 450 SS, 1969 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz A kick in the backside Imagine: it was a kick in the backside and a punch in the nose that set Peter Monteverdi on the path to automotive legend. He had been determined to study medicine when, in the mid-1940s, a particularly crabby teacher called him an idiot. In the ensuing argument, the teacher called him to the front of the class and kicked him in the behind as a form of "discipline." Peter went home and recounted everything to his father, Rosolino, in the tractor and plant machinery workshop his father had built. Without hesitation, Rosolino rolled up his sleeves, marched straight to the school, stormed into the classroom, and punched the teacher in the nose. After the incident, Peter’s father sent him to another school that focused more on practical skills rather than theoretical study—an environment far better suited to his skills and interests (and his attention span). It was there he met a vocational advisor, Ernst Bertschi, with whom he got along handsomely. Taking stock of Monteverdi’s adept hands and upbringing, Bertschi encouraged Peter to pursue a career as an automobile mechanic, beginning a cascade of events that would lead to one of the mid 20th centuries most loved car brands. Italian Blood, Swiss at Heart Peter Monteverdi grew up in Binningen, a small town near Basel. His roots traced back to Italian immigrants who had settled in Switzerland during the late 19th century, bringing with them a heritage of hard work and technical ingenuity. Peter Monteverdi and his father Rosolino in Binningen, 1936 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz His father embodied these traits, building a reputation as a skilled tractor mechanic and opening a workshop that became a cornerstone of the local community. Monteverdi Garage Binningen, 1924 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz Monteverdi Garage on Oberwilerstrasse in Binningen, 1933 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz Peter Monteverdi in his pedal car, 1938 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz As a boy, Peter spent much of his time in the workshop, immersed in the sights, sounds, and smells of grease and machinery. Peter Monteverdi at the wheel of a Vevey Diesel - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz But while Rosolino's world revolved around tractors and practical engineering, Peter's imagination raced toward something entirely different—cars. Not just any cars, but fast ones. At just 15, influenced by Bertschi, Peter left home to serve his apprenticeship at the Swiss firm Adolph Saurer near Lake Constance. Saurer was a pioneer in heavy commercial vehicle engines, and Peter’s early years were spent learning to tune automobile engines. The apprenticeship required him to spend time in the town of Arbon before moving closer to home, working at the Saurer service and repair shops in Birsfelden, near Binningen. Peter Monteverdi for Saurer at the Basel Trade Fair in 1952 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz The Monteverdi Special & Dreams of Racing He didn’t just dream of fast cars either—he built them. At just 16 years old, he began crafting his first car, the Monteverdi Special. During his apprenticeship at Saurer, Peter had thrown himself into the mechanical craft with gusto. Despite his youth, he was often chosen to tackle complex mechanical problems. One day, while riding his moped to work, Peter spotted a battered Fiat Tipo 508C Balilla 1100 in the yard of a dealership. It had collided with a tree, but on closer inspection, Peter decided it was still in decent working order. Knowing the Balilla was highly tunable, he saw an opportunity to restore and transform it into his first performance car. Remarkably, Peter was only 17 and not yet old enough to drive himself. Peter Monteverdi and his Monteverdi Special, 1952 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz His ultimate ambition, however, was to become a professional racing driver. After a few trade-ins, steadily getting better cars each time, he possessed something raceworthy, the Alfa Romeo 1900 Sedan—at that time a popular touring car. And so his racing career began in earnest. In his view, mechanicing was now just a means to fund his racing career. Monteverdi drove bravely and boldly, but was a rookie in comparison to the seasoned, cool competition he faced. He was, for want of a better phrase, too keen. Able to drive well, able to gather great speed, but with little consistency. He went through car after car, flogging each to its end. His competitors did however, learn to take him seriously. They had seen a natural talent in him that in time could be molded and honed and developed. In an outdated VW convertible, he even managed to finish 3rd in the hill climb at Reigoldswil in 1954, beating a 4.5l Talbot in the process. In 1955, he bought a one year old Porsche 356 1500 S. Small, fast and agile, it was perfect for hill climbs. And so, going all in as was his wont, he entered every single hill climb event in the 1955 season. The car did well but struggled against Porsche’s own specialized models, which the company itself entered in the season to dominate the 1.5l category and grow its brand in the Swiss market. Undeterred, Monteverdi decided that he would try again in 1956, after converting his own engine to a 1.3l to race a category below where he would stand a better chance. An impossible task to most, this was too easy for the autodidactic skills he’d built over his teenage years. Through Tragedy, From Tractors to Sports Cars Before the season began though, tragedy hit the Monteverdi family. Rosolino had taken suddenly ill. A malignant brain tumor was diagnosed, and before the week was out, he was dead. Peter, just 22, realized the family’s fate now rested on his shoulders. He essentially had no choice but to take over the family business, which Rosolino had nurtured from simple shed to respectable, modern—and large workshop. This came with a cost. It needed to be paid for, mortgage payments, upkeep, day-to-day business. While the garage ticked over in trade, the family was cash poor. This was the Monteverdi family’s only true asset of wealth. Young Monteverdi weighed up his options, and took the workshop in his own direction—moving from repairing tractors and machinery to tuning sports and luxury cars. A clean slate, the beginning of a legacy. The business got off to a promising start, with word of mouth spreading about the Garage Monteverdi. Before long, the country’s first true sports car owners —for the industry in Switzerland was still in its infancy–were bringing their cars to him. With the business up and running, Peter turned his attention back to hill climbs. In his mind, a reputation as a racer would only help his business’ reputation, while of course the young man would be continuing his true ambitions of becoming a star of the racing world. The restored Monteverdi Garage on Oberwilerstrasse in Binningen, 1957 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz As he had planned, the now 1.3l Porsche more than held its own fighting a weight class down. A 5th place finish at the Steinholtz hill climb showed promise—and finally a 1st place at Kandersteg was the crowning moment. Young Monteverdi was getting noticed. A feature in Automobil Revue magazine put him on the map. Pausing for thought to weigh up the next step, he decided one simple thing—he would need a faster car. Falling for Ferrari He drove to a Chrysler dealership in Bern having gotten wind of a very special car being traded in. He left his Porsche there that day and drove home in a Ferrari. A 1953 3L Mille Miglia Coupe. He was still just 22 years old. Indeed, he was almost laughed out of the dealership when he asked about the car, until they saw his Porsche and decided to take him a little more seriously. Monteverdi knew he was taking a risk. The Ferrari was not in top condition—the clutch was harsh and it bellowed blue fumes, but he was captivated. It was arguably the first illogical, purely romantic decision of his life (aside from his desire to race cars). He’d traded in a perfectly reliable and high-performing Porsche for a temperamental Ferrari. On a mountain pass from Bern to his home near Basel, one of the two distributors that powered the 2 banks of 6 cylinders broke. He drove home on six cylinders, and proudly took his mother for a drive in his new Ferrari before getting started on repairs. Bold Ambitions & Opening Gambits Peter Monteverdi with his Ferrari 3-Litre Mille Miglia - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz The Ferrari would cause headache after headache, but never true heartache. It was a labor of love. Indeed, it was a mechanical problem that led to a moment that would define Monteverdi’s career. Defective Ferraris, after all, need new parts. And parts need to be distributed. Switzerland had just a single Ferrari agent in Bern. Peter Monteverdi racing his Ferrari Mille Miglia in Rheinfelden, 1956 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz After hauling the car back across the french border following an ill-fated tour to Paris and a busted valve under the Champs-Elysee, he dissected the car, and removed the damaged piston. Knowing full well that the future would bring the need for many more repairs and spare parts, the bold young man wrapped the piston up, placed it in the back of the car, started it up and made for Maranello—the home of Ferrari. “Why not go right to the source?” he reasoned. And while there, why not pitch the idea of his Binningen workshop becoming Switzerland's newest Ferrari dealership? He was confident that if they could excuse his age and just hear him talk shop—technical features, specs, granular details—and of course see him in the Ferrari that he himself owned, they would at least hear him out. Piston in hand, the earnest young man addressed the security guard, and pleaded his case. The next morning, he was meeting Signor Gardini, Head of Sales at Ferrari. Gardini presented him with every spare part he’d requested, and even better, took him on a tour of the works at Maranello. And so began a careful game of cat and mouse. Even the bold young man knew that he couldn’t blithely ask for a franchise as a Ferrari dealer in Binningen. And so he played his opening gambit. Could he buy a sports racing car? Indeed he could, was the response. A brand new Second Series, 4 cylinder, 2 liter Testa Rossa Roadster was just about to arrive. And if he were to buy it, he enquired, what chance would there be of attaining a franchise in Switzerland? The response was cryptic but not impossible to follow—without buying the car, there's no chance of the dealership. Here he was, on the cusp of owning not just a sports racing Ferrari, but owning the preeminent Ferrari dealership in an entire country at the age of 22. Indeed, were he to succeed, he would become the world’s youngest Ferrari dealer. Finding A Way The obstacle in his path, however, was the 43,000 Swiss Francs he’d been informed as the price for the Testa Rossa. Monteverdi drove home with plenty to ponder, and a problem to puzzle over. He needed to make more money. He needed to spend more money to make that. And the more he invested, the less he would have, and the smaller the chance of becoming a Ferrari dealer (and Testa Rossa owner). Impressive as the tuning shop was, it could only fit two cars. And as impressive as Monteverdi’s skill was, he could only work so many hours. So, he decided to kill two birds with one stone. He would scale up the garage, hire help, and while he was at it, he’d buy the damn Testa Rossa. It’d just take some bending of the truth to do it. In his discussion with the bank for a loan to expand the garage, he tacked on a few extra tens of thousands of Swiss Francs. With the business turning over nicely, the bank paid out, and in the autumn of 1956, work began. By winter he would have a modern, six car garage, complete with electrical power tools. The little tractor workshop had come some way, and Monteverdi had gone some way to funding the purchase of the Testa Rossa. Peter Monteverdi on his new Ferrari Testa Rossa, 1957 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz During the renovations, he made a number of trips to the Modena test track to meet Gardini. Somewhere between a test drive for the would be customer, and a test of the would be dealer, these meetings held incredible importance. Ferrari were not willing to let Monteverdi represent their brand if he proved unfit to handle their cars. And so, under the guise of taking both the Testa Rossa and the bigger, more powerful—and more tempestuous— 3 liter, 4 cylinder Monza, Gardini secretly appraised the young Swiss man’s skill behind the wheel. Peter Monteverdi in Modena, 1957 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz Before the year was done, Monteverdi made another trip to Modena, still in his Mille Miglia GT coupe, to iron out any finer points in his dealership pitch. When he left that day, a deal had been struck. For his purchase of the Testa Rossa, he would not only own a Ferrari dealership, he would own the distributorship for the entire county of Switzerland (save for the existing Bern dealership). He sold the Mille Miglia, purchased the Testa Rossa, made sure to spend an extra few days testing it on the track (he did, after all, still harbor ambitions to race) and so began a new chapter of Automobil MONTEVERDI. A Racer Is Born In April 1957, Monteverdi obtained his racing license in quite some style. With three new white stripes added to the Testa Rossa, the car stood out from the crowd as truly Swiss amidst an international glut of would-be racers at the Monza circuit during an FIA-affiliated race driver’s course. Monteverdi’s fervour had seen him register for the course before anyone else, and so the car also sported the number 1. Peter Monteverdi and his mechanic, ready to race the Ferrari Testa Rossa, 1957 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz With his freshly obtained license, and having impressed none other than Karl King during the course, Monteverdi now dreamed of being a Ferrari works driver. But the higher powers would need some convincing. He elected to give the 1957 season his best, and see how far it might take him. Meanwhile, he also had the not small task of getting his new business off the ground. A Ferrari dealership had to sell Ferraris after all. He started wisely, offering a brand new 250 GT to an old racing colleague at cost price. Then a few weeks later, he sold his first at list price. Once again, the young man showed he was the master of the opening gambit… But these aims ran parallel to one another in Monteverdi’s mind, just as they had years before. The more he raced, and won, in his Testa Rossa, the more demand would grow, and the more customers he would have. Ups, Downs & Ups At the end of April, he shocked onlookers as he qualified in second place at a race in Aspern, Vienna. On race day, he flew into an early lead, the Testa Rossa broadsiding wildly all over the track as it roared from the starting line. As before, Monteverdi’s racing was the opposite of his mechanical skill—all heart and guts, with a deficiency of composure. He was soon overtaken by the renowned Willy-Peter Daetwyler. Not to be put off, Monteverdi floored the Testa Rossa and became embroiled in a 4 way battle for pole position. Daetwyler ahead, two more Testa Rossas breathing down his neck. In the heat of the dogfight, Monteverdi spun off the track, before coming to a stop facing 180 degrees in the wrong direction. Peter Monteverdi racing the Ferrari Testa Rossa in Wien-Aspern. 1957 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz With no damage done, and adrenaline pumping, he rejoined the race and little by little, pulled himself back into 4th position, where he would finish. Not a bad return to the track. It may not have been the result he wanted, but it came with all the thrills that seduce race car drivers into the life in the first place. Months later, Monteverdi faced stiffer competition at the Belgium and Spa-Francorchamps, with a number of full-time professional drivers, including Tony Brooks and Colin Chapman, joining the ranks. The qualifying laps were a bitter pill to swallow–he could not keep up no matter how he tried. When the starting flag fell and the real race began, he quickly found himself completely alone, his rivals disappearing into the distance. No longer in a fight for position, Monteverdi felt a strange freedom. He was free to focus on technique and skill, to just enjoy the ride and make it out alive. Still only 23, Monteverdi had lost close friends to racing, and it dawned on him that he was but a mistake away from meeting his end at all times. Guts and heart could get him pretty far, but they could also get him killed. And so over the remaining laps, he set himself a new goal—not to win but to get better, race more smoothly, and simply try to finish within visible distance of the leading group. This newfound serenity began to pay out right away. Within just a few laps he’d not only gained ground… having glided past car after car, calculated in his movements and consistent in his technique, he’d driven himself back into second place! With victory in sight, his blood and thunder instincts kicked back in, albeit tempered, and so began the hunt. Then inexplicably, while cresting a hill at 160 kmh, the front windshield collapsed and flew off the car, leaving the exposed driver battling the full force of the wind. Just like in Aspern, the car spun off track, landing in a ditch. But as luck would have it, he at least settled in the ditch facing in the right direction this time. Undeterred by the wind, he went back to work, back to that balancing act of cold-blooded technique and fire-in-the-belly determination. In a race filled with reputed professional drivers, he finished in fourth place. With his self belief validated, Monteverdi committed to the rest of the season with full force (within financial and work-bound reason), even driving at Nürburgring 1000 km in May, with Karl Foitek. The following week, he took his momentum to new heights at the slalom in Campione. Peter Monteverdi racing the Ferrari Testa Rossa in Campione. 1957 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz His first race that would count towards the Swiss Championship, the tight, windy obstacle course would take more finesse than speed. This would be all driver-skill, no engine output. Not to mention, the weather was wet and slippery, and Willy-Peter Daetwyler was back in town. But there was no need to fret. Monteverdi raced the perfect race, and finished first by a distance—three seconds ahead of Daetwyler. The Monza Upgrade & The Racing Addiction A burgeoning reputation led to a boom in business. Monteverdi was living his dream. But the competition in racing was fierce, and only getting tougher. Not only was Daetwyler on his list of rivals, so too was a certain Heinrich “Heini” Walter, a fearsome Porsche driver from Monteverdi’s own stomping ground, Basel Land. If he was going to be Swiss Champion, he was going to have to win a lot of hill climbs. But that required power. The 2l Testa Rossa was an elite car, but it didn’t have the power to keep up with Daetwyler’s 3l Monza. So he simply decided to buy one himself. With Ferrari having recently displaced the Monza at the head of its arsenal with a 3 liter V12 Testa Rossa, Monteverdi went on the hunt for a used Monza at good value for money. He found just that in Geneva—a 1955 model of the 750 Monza— but not before sending the Testa Rossa off in style with a 6th place finish at the international hill climb in Schauinsland in the German Black Forest. On the 1st of August, with a full tank of fuel and a lot less money in his pocket, Monteverdi drove his new Monza home from Geneva, and started preparing for the 1958 season. Peter Monteverdi with the Ferrari Monza 3-Liter in Modena 1956 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz It wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that the obstinate Monteverdi was as unyielding as ever in his goal of being the Swiss racing champion. Nothing in his life thus far would suggest a swaying of emotion, or any fear or doubt. But in truth, he was beginning to wonder if his racing ambitions were no more than a pipe dream. He could justify his racing by saying it brought him new customers. But for every race, he and his mechanic at Automobil MONTEVERDI would close up and disappear for a week at a time, killing any potential profit. And then there was the creeping fear of meeting a swift and horrible end. Before every race, waiting for the flag to drop, he confessed to wondering if he’d even make it out alive. Then the race would begin, the engine would roar, the smell of burning rubber and hot oil would envelope his senses, and he’d dive once more into the breach. In short, he was addicted. And who could possibly blame him. The Danger of Temptation And as any addict can attest to, there’s nothing quite like temptation. Still enthused by the notion of being a member of the Ferrari works team, he travelled again to Modena to test drive a new 750 Monza—one of the last ever—which was in its final stages of completion. Having not even tested his own Monza on the track, Monteverdi hopped in the new one and, to everyone’s shock, set times equal to the team’s best drivers. Impressed by his marked improvement, Gardini offered that there may be an opening for a reserve driver, but it was slim. And if he were going to drive a car like that again, he’d need to own a car like that. But price wise, it was out of the question. Over the next few months, Monteverdi determined to impress the Ferrari higher-ups with his skill alone, and focused on getting results in hill climbs. His efforts proved disastrous. At Gaisberg in August—known for its tight hairpin turns—he elected to drive his Monza instead of the more nimble Testa Rossa he still owned. His confidence that he could handle its weight well enough to reap the rewards of its power was grossly misplaced, and he finished well behind Daetwyler. Constantly committed to improvement, Monteverdi stuck at it, learning to keep the Monza under control at wild speeds, and clocking better and better times. At a hill climb in The Grisons, he even managed a 5th place finish, in the company of Daetwyler, Hans Herrmann, and the famous Wolfgang von Trips. The Crashes, The Booms & The Rejections Alas, accidents and hurt are just about inevitable for anyone who pushes themselves and their cars to the brink, and while he had thus far evaded tragedy, he would soon have more than one brush with it. In September 1957, at the hill climb of Martigny-La Forclaz, he clipped a photographer standing beyond the safe zone, right in his driving line. Somehow, the photographer emerged relatively unscathed bar a few sprains and bumps, while Monteverdi got away with a damaged knee and bloody face. The Monza, a badly damaged side. Then in Alsace, the hastily repaired Monza suffered a steering loss in a hairpin turn and flew off the wet track. He was dragged from the cockpit, unable to move at all. Paralyzed completely, he demanded to be checked out of the local hospital and taken home to Basel. On a stretcher in the back of his mechanic’s Citroen DS 19, he made his way back home to be diagnosed with a broken pelvis. While he healed up, he focused on business, electing to renovate and upscale his garage once again, selling the Testa Rossa to part fund the operation. In 1958, Monteverdi made another trip to Maranello, this time with hopes of fulfilling his lifelong dream of being named on the team. After building a respectable racing reputation and proving his skills, not to mention his exploits in the Monza, he thought his moment had arrived. But the answer from Signor Gardini was a polite but firm "no." Gardini explained, “I have attended too many funerals of good friends who have driven for us.” While this seemed like a concern for Monteverdi’s safety, the truth likely had more to do with business. Ferrari couldn’t afford to lose their only dealer in Switzerland. For Monteverdi, this was a crushing blow. The dream he had worked tirelessly toward was now out of reach. Still, Monteverdi resolved to continue racing privately. But with money tied up in his expanding garage business and the sale of his Testa Rossa to fund renovations, he decided to also sell his Monza. Unfortunately, the Monza was already on the brink of being outdated. With Ferrari introducing a 3-liter Monza V12, buyers were unlikely to invest in the older 4-cylinder model. Monteverdi, however, had other plans for the car. A Glorious & Unexpected Return Rather than sell the Monza as it was, Monteverdi transformed it into one of the world’s fastest GT cars. With the help of Dr. Alfred Hopf, who had purchased Monteverdi’s Mille Miglia GT Coupe earlier, he created the Ferrari-Monteverdi 750 GT. The Monza received a brand-new steel body, complete with gullwing doors, and an array of features to make it suitable for road use. These included a quieter, more road-friendly exhaust system, a handbrake, power brake systems, and even a heating and ventilation system. The Monteverdi 750 GT, 1958 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz The 750 GT’s debut coincided with a significant personal milestone for Monteverdi. At Ferrari’s annual press conference in Modena, Enzo Ferrari himself awarded Monteverdi a medal for being the best private Ferrari driver of the year. It was an ironic twist, considering Monteverdi had attended the event reluctantly, knowing it would focus on Ferrari’s racing plans—plans that no longer included him. Peter Monteverdi receives the golden Ferrari lapel badge in Modena, 1957 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz Monteverdi’s return to racing wasn’t limited to hill climbs and GT events. He made his debut in single-seater racing, piloting a Cooper-Norton F3 at the Ollon-Villars hill climb, where he finished third. To cap it all off, he claimed victory at the Mitholz-Kandersteg hill climb in his own Ferrari-Monteverdi 750 GT. Peter Monteverdi racing the 750 GT at the Mitholz – Kandersteg hill climb, 1958 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz Back to Business Despite his racing successes, Monteverdi began to face challenges in his business. Ferrari’s decision to sign direct contracts with Swiss dealerships effectively ended Monteverdi’s monopoly as the sole importer. No longer the exclusive Ferrari distributor in Switzerland, he had to rethink his strategy. Racing had become a financial drain, and Monteverdi decided to sit out the following season to focus on expanding his garage and building a stronger business foundation. Monteverdi didn’t abandon racing entirely. He experimented with other cars, including a Maserati 750 and even test drove a Formula 1 Maserati under the watchful eye of Guerino Bertocchi, Maserati’s chief mechanic. During the test drive, Monteverdi pushed the car so hard that the driveshaft sheared, tearing a hole in the car’s body! Peter Monteverdi with the Maserati Grand Prix 250 F in Modena, 1959 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz And on his 25th birthday, he celebrated by competing again in the Nürburgring 1000km race, partnering with Karl Stangl in a Mercedes-Benz 300 SL. The duo finished third in their category, further cementing Monteverdi’s reputation as a versatile and skilled driver. Peter Monteverdi at the start of the 1000 km race Nürburgring, 1959 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz The Birth of MBM Monteverdi’s racing ambitions took a new turn with the demise of his Ferrari relationship, and the subsequent creation of MBM. Interestingly, the name would have three meanings over the years; Monteverdi Basel Mantzel, then Monteverdi Basel Mitter (after Gehrard Mitter, his next partner), and finally, after going it alone— Monteverdi Basel Motoren). His goal was to design and build single-seaters that could compete in Formula Junior and Formula 3 categories. In partnership with ingenious mechanic Albrecht-Wolf Mansel, MBM Sport emerged as a dedicated racing arm, producing lightweight, high-performance cars powered by engines from DKW. Peter Monteverdi in a DKW Formula Junior at the Schauinsland hill climb, 1959 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz Monteverdi himself raced these cars, achieving respectable results in hill climbs and circuit events, even finishing in second place (behind rival Heini Walter) at the slalom in Dübendorf. Later models, once Monteverdi had parted ways with Mansel, were powered by Ford Anglia, OSCA, and in the case of the MBM Formula 1, Porsche. It was in this MBM Formula 1 that Monteverdi made his one and only F1 Grand Prix appearance—at Solitude race course near Stuttgart. It lasted two laps before a defective clutch forced his retirement. Peter Monteverdi and the MBM Formel 1 in Monza, 1961 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz From Racer to Manufacturer As Monteverdi’s racing career began to wind down, his focus shifted toward manufacturing road cars. In 1964, he’d become the official Swiss sales representative for BMW, in turn ceding the licenses to sell Lancia, Jensen, Rolls-Royce, and Bentley that he’d won in the years prior. Between BMW and Ferrari, business was booming. But it wasn’t enough to scratch the creative itch. He hadn’t built a car in more than three years, and an idea for a new MBM GT was beginning to consume him. In 1965, he received the perfect motivation to bring the idea to reality. A directive from Ferrari informed all Swiss dealers that they were expected not just to hit better sales numbers, but from here on out, pay in advance for spare parts, and deal with a newly appointed Swiss sales rep in Geneva. It only took ten days for Monteverdi to make his move. He decided to go it alone. And so began the chapter of his life that’s best documented. In 1967, he introduced the 375 series, a line of luxury GT cars that combined Italian styling with American powertrains. Collaborations with renowned designers such as Pietro Frua and Fissore resulted in striking designs that appealed to wealthy clientele. The launch of the 375 S Frua - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz The launch of the 375 S Frua - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz The 375L and 375S models featured powerful Chrysler V8 engines, luxurious interiors, and exceptional performance, establishing Monteverdi as a serious player in the luxury car market. The Monteverdi 375 L High Speed - Photography by Paolo Carlini for SpeedHolics The Hai 450 SS, introduced in 1970, was another bold statement from Monteverdi. This mid-engine GT car featured aggressive styling and a 7-liter Chrysler V8, making it one of the fastest cars of its time. While production numbers were limited, the Hai cemented Monteverdi’s reputation as a builder of exclusive, high-performance automobiles—a legacy still appreciated today by true SpeedHolics, if not widely recognized by the general public. Monteverdi Hai 450 GTS 1973 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz Onyx Formula 1, The Death of Peter Monteverdi & A Lasting Legacy No mid-late 20th century automotive visionary's story would be complete without a foray into Formula 1. Monteverdi’s came in 1989, when he acquired the Onyx Grand Prix team along with his old friend and partner Karl Foitek, just over 30 years after they’d raced the Nürburgring 1000km. While the venture was short-lived, ending the following season, the team did achieve a notable 3rd place finish in the Portuguese Grand Prix, with the Swede Stefan Johansson behind the wheel. The Team Onyx Monteverdi Formel 1 - Photo Courtesy of Verkehrshaus der Schweiz Monteverdi lived fast, and while he didn’t die particularly young, he wasn’t old when his time came. He was 64 when he passed away from cancer. His final days were spent not in a hospital bed, but in the apartment above his workshop in Binningen. He had come full circle. Today, his legacy lives on through his cars and his contributions to Swiss automotive history. The Verkehrshaus der Schweiz (Swiss Museum of Transport) in Lucerne houses a collection of Monteverdi’s creations, ensuring that his story continues to inspire future generations of car enthusiasts. Peter Monteverdi was more than a racer or a manufacturer. He was somewhere between prize fighter, mad scientist, and cunning strategist—a man who dared to dream big and pursued those dreams with relentless determination. As a racer, he was hot blooded. As an engineer, a problem-solving, highly imaginative visionary, and as a businessman, a cool and calculated strategist —with that passion bubbling just under the surface, fuelling his every move. From his humble beginnings in Binningen, through his never-say-die spirit as a race car driver, to his status as the last Swiss luxury carmaker, Monteverdi’s journey is a testament to perseverance, ingenuity, and the power of a father who would punch a bully in the face for his son. -- SpeedHolics would like to thank the Verkehrshaus of Lucerne (the Swiss Museum of Transport) for making available the two cars featured in this article. The Monteverdi High Speed 375L (chassis no. 3126) was later reacquired by Monteverdi and repainted. The 375/4 (chassis no. 2059), on the other hand, has always remained the property of the company. The steering wheel is part of the specific configuration originally requested by Peter for this particular car. Each vehicle was, in fact, built according to the specifications provided by the customer, demonstrating that individuality was very important to Monteverdi.

Medieval architecture and Baroque frescoes, castles and churches. And a bouquet of international festivals blending art and creativity, set against the romantic and sophisticated lake backdrop Words Alessandro Giudice Photography Alessandro Barteletti Video Andrea Ruggeri Swiss Grand Tour is a project to discover itineraries driving classic Alfa Romeo cars, in partnership with Astara, the distributor and importer of the Brand in Switzerland. Canton Ticino Route from Bellinzona to Ascona and back Distance 80 km Travel time 2h Driving pleasure 3/5 Panorama 4/5 With its distinctive personality, so different and yet complementary to those of the other large towns in the canton, Lugano is a cosmopolitan crossroads of international business. Set against the sparkling background of the lake of the same name, Bellinzona is peaceful and reserved, nestling in the green hills. The capital of Ticino is defined by its splendid architectural features: three spectacular castles and medieval walls that make it a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 2000, as well as the characteristic network of narrow pedestrian streets leading to small and large squares. [click to watch the video] (Map by Sansai Zappini) Also for these reasons, we chose Bellinzona as the starting point for an itinerary through some of the most interesting areas of Canton Ticino, as far as the northern banks of Lake Maggiore, which Switzerland shares with Italy. Accompanying us, two cars representing Alfa Romeo’s past and future: a 1957 Giulia Spider Veloce and a modern Junior in the Special Sport Tech version, progenitor of the Biscione’s electric generation.   Driving the splendid convertible is its proud owner Edwin Navez, manager and businessman, who went as far as Mexico City to buy his Giulia: “I was looking for one of the last spiders made, and I’ve always had a soft spot for the combination of anthracite grey/red bodywork and interiors. As soon as I saw that it had these features, I couldn't let it go." Edwin comes in the Giulia to meet us in Bellinzona on a tepid, early spring day, confirming the extraordinarily mild climate in this part of Switzerland, where the thermometer rarely falls below zero even during the winter.   Due to traffic limitations, it is best to drive round the outer ring of the town, leaving the more characteristic parts of the centre for a pleasurable stroll. For practical reasons, the first stop up a hill passing near the hospital, is at the smallest of the three castles, Sasso Corbaro, at an altitude of 600 metres a.s.l., once used as a prison. Driving down a few bends towards the town, Montebello castle stands on the peak of the hill of the same name, protected by its two drawbridges and castellated walls. From its strategic and panoramic position, it dominates not only the town but also the River Ticino valley to the north-west of Bellinzona. Close to the centre on a rocky ridge, Castelgrande is a fine example of the fortifications that controlled the mountain passes towards Northern Europe, the Nufenen, St. Gotthard and San Bernardino. This control was also assured by the walls, an impressive 800-metre-long bastion connecting the western side of the castle to the gates where the goods passing through were taxed. Returning to the town centre, a stroll towards Piazza Collegiata takes you down Viale Stazione, Bellinzona’s busiest and most famous road, from where you can admire the church and the attractive buildings. From here we continue to the nearby Piazza Noceto and Palazzo Civico, and, passing by the obelisk in Piazza Indipendenza and Via Dogana, we reach Piazza del Governo. Leaving the centre, towards the cemetery, you can admire Santa Maria delle Grazie, a fifteenth century church adorned with colourful frescoes, the most important of which is a “Crucifixion” by an unknown artist and others partly attributed to the schools of Jacques Courtois and Ferrari. From here, we head out along Via Cantonale towards Giubiasco, not a particularly interesting main road but perfect for reaching the tip of Lake Maggiore in Minusio and, from there, on to Locarno.   Not only an attractive holiday spot, Locarno also offers an interesting range of cultural events and recreational activities. One of these is the renowned International Film Festival, calling directors and actors from all over the world to one of Switzerland's most important happenings. In July, the festival is preceded by Moon&Stars, a series of musical events with concerts by some of the most famous musicians on the international scene today. These two events are both hosted in the same place in the town, the renaissance-style Piazza Grande, Locarno's beating heart surrounded by buildings and arcades with a selection of bars, restaurants and shops with alleys leading through the historical centre, to Visconti Castle and other sites. In addition, the Camellia Park is home to the exhibition that brings fragrances and colours to the lake with its magnificent flowers in the spring. Just a few miles separate Locarno from Ascona, which is “the place to be”, according to Edwin Navez. A small yet picturesque town with a lakeside promenade edged with lush plants and pastel-coloured houses, with its mild climate Ascona is a refined, highbrow tourist destination, as well as the home to one of Europe’s major jazz festivals, held between June and July of each year. To reach our next destination, we return to Locarno and from there climb up Via ai Monti to the peak of the Sanctuary of the Madonna del Sasso, a famous religious complex renowned for its visiting pilgrims. Parking here, it takes just a few minutes to walk down to the monastery and the sanctuary which, built on a rocky outcrop, offer a breath-taking view of the lake, before visiting the Baroque church with its frescoes and wood and terracotta statues.   Returning towards Bellinzona, at Gordola we take a left turn towards Lavertezzo. Climbing a few miles, we reach the Contra dam, built in 1960 to close the river Verzasca, which gives its name to the valley. An interesting fact: the dam starred in one of the first scenes of the 1995 007 film “Golden Eye”.   The road running along the artificial Vogorno lake is pure driving pleasure, with a succession of fast stretches and tunnels. This is more than enough reason to take a diversion off the main route, also considering the nature and architecture to be admired in Lavertezzo, with its famous two-arched Medieval Roman bridge crossing the river Verzasca, where its waters are an extraordinary shade of emerald. Returning to Gordola, the road to Bellinzona crosses the vineyards where excellent Terre di Gudo wines are made in this municipality which was annexed to the town in 2017. A perfect opportunity for a “wine cellar fuel stop”, for once without having to choose between thermal and electric fuel. THE COLLECTOR: Edwin Navez The "Giulia Spider 1600 Veloce" The Giulia Spider has always been the car of my dreams: it has all the charm of a convertible Alfa Romeo but with spectacular engine performance. The one I bought fits that dream perfectly. A Giulia, so the second series after the Giulietta; in the Veloce version, with a 113 HP engine, disc brakes on the front wheels, anthracite grey bodywork and red seats. I had been looking for one all over the place, then I found one at a dealer in New York. When I got in touch to make an appointment, he told me that the car was actually in Mexico City. Thinking that it really didn't make much difference between that and the States, I set off for Mexico. The car was perfect, it had already been registered as a historical car in Mexico (and I left the “veiculo historico” sticker on the right-hand deflector) and had it shipped to Europe in a container.  The Modern Alfas What I like about modern Alfa Romeos is their character, which expresses a clean line, a chassis that lives up to the expectations of any Alfa fan and excellent engines, especially the Quadrifoglio versions. Moving into the electric world seems to me to be more to meet regulatory needs than the wish of Alfa Romeo. I have been driving electric cars for years, with great pleasure, and I hope that, no longer driven by combustion engines, the new Alfas can maintain the style and performance that created the Biscione legend.

A delightful route through the mountains, with just a few selected stops and all the engineering thrills of the Alfa Romeo S.Z. With 6 cylinders and 210 HP, this is perfect for discovering the racing spirit of the “Biscione” even off the track Words Alessandro Giudice Photography Alessandro Barteletti Video Andrea Ruggeri Swiss Grand Tour is a project to discover itineraries driving classic Alfa Romeo cars, in partnership with Astara, the distributor and importer of the Brand in Switzerland. Canton Vaud Route Aigle-Gstaad-Aigle Distance 101 km Travel time 2h 15min Driving pleasure 5/5 Panorama 4/5 The appointment was at Aigle Castle, standing on a slight hill surrounded by vineyards. Driving up towards it, the last 100 metres of a narrow road are lined by high, plastered bastions, that makes you feel as if you're driving between two walls of snow. It was a bright day, the blue sky and the red object shining ahead after the last bend looked more like a space ship than a car. This is thanks to its extraordinary clean lines and volumes and smooth, polished shapes; the large windows that blend into the shiny black roof make it seem more like an airplane cockpit than a passenger compartment. [click to watch the video] (Map by Sansai Zappini) The Alfa Romeo S.Z. still manages to catch your eye today, 36 years after it was launched, demonstrating that originality and genius withstand the time of all styles and fashions. A prerogative of Zagato, who has always signed his special cars with that unmistakeable touch of personality: “who dares wins”. And the S.Z. remains part of this tradition. It looks like an aerodynamic study, and at the time divided Alfa fans between those who criticised it and those who loved it unconditionally. Like Daniel Imhof, who has owned one for 18 years, and has turned his passion into his life’s work, with a workshop in Bex (in Route des Tioleires 3, just in case you want to drop in), which works only on Alfa Romeos, whether modern or vintage, road or racing models.   He met us in Aigle with his magnificent S.Z. ready for a spin, sixty or so miles of pure adrenalin following a ring around the slopes of the Vaud Prealps. The start and end of the route was Aigle, the capital of a district renowned for its wine-making traditions, expressed by a famous, fragrant dry white and the vineyards that surround the town for miles. In addition to the historical centre, with its characteristic Rue de Jérusalem, and the bike racing track, which is also home to the International Cycling Union, the world’s sports cycling body, the medieval castle is the most interesting site in the town. Inside, the Wine Museum narrates the age-old local culture with exhibitions, objects and artefacts. We took the main road no. 11, a major road that runs east to Wassen, even though we would take a turn off way before there.   Right from the first bends, as the road climbed upwards, we realised that the route was a funfair for the S.Z. You could hear the 6-cylinder engine roar in different tones with each gear change, and feel the way it followed the bends along the road: safe, precise, without any jerks or rolling. Following in a hybrid Junior, the road was a bit tougher for us, even though the dynamic attitude of the new Alfa crossover is a pleasant surprise in terms of set-up and stability, especially when braking..   The climb from 436 metres a.s.l. in Aigle to 1445 metres at the first mountain pass, Col des Mosses, is just over 10 miles. But beware: this beautiful stretch of road is also a favourite with motorcyclists, who often come in large groups, so take care, especially near the bends.   Over the pass, we descended towards Chatêau d’Oex and Rougemont, an area that, due to its microclimate and lack of wind, has become a paradise for hot air balloons (there is even a museum devoted to them in Chatêau d’Oex), and trips are possible all year round. This is the Pays-d’Enhaut district, the holiday place-to-be in the Canton Vaud and the nearby Bernese Highlands. A few miles from the two towns lies Rossinière, a village with 500 inhabitants renowned for the artistic façades of its wooden houses, and is well worth the detour. One of these houses is the impressive Grand Chalet (5 floors and 113 windows), originally used to age the traditional Etivaz DOP cheese for which the area is famous, but later in 1977 bought by the painter Balthus, who lived here for a long time. And if you like chalets, another place to see is Saanen, where many of them nestle in a large plain among the meadows and along the road.   Here we were already in the Canton of Bern, where we turned off the main road to the right, towards Gstaad, the most famous and elegant hamlet in Saanen. Here, what immediately catches the eye is the Gstaad Palace, the 5-star hotel that dominates the town from above like a castle. Built in 1913, since then it has welcomed the international jet set, who satisfy their desire for high-quality shopping in the cosmopolitan boutiques and local luxury brands. And chalets are also the most representative and exclusive architecture in the pedestrian town centre, whether private homes, stores and hotels, many of which have spas, the quality of which has made this mountain town a point of reference for the whole country.   After some luxury pampering, driving pleasure still had to wait, because, however straight, the road to Ormont-Dessus demands a stop at the start of the cable car leading to Glacier 3000: a spectacular, magical place at the foot of the glacier, with an amazing view of the over-4000 metre peaks that surround it. But the S.Z. called, and Daniel answered. When we reached Ormont-Dessus, we could have chosen to back-track and return to Aigle along the same road. But instead, we reached the cable car to Les Diablerets and headed up to Col de la Croix at 1778 metres. The road here was less busy and much narrower: it took around forty minutes to cover the 10 miles and 5/6 bends to Villars-sur-Ollon, and put the pressure on both the Alfa Romeo and its driver. Who got out of the car, ready for a coffee but with a big smile on his face: “For me, Alfa Romeo means performance, beauty and sound, and these are the ideal roads for a car like the S.Z.. Pure emotion, mile after mile”.   The last stretch of road descends towards the pretty town of Ollon, where our roads separated. As Daniel Imhof took his red coupé back to the workshop in nearby Bex to relax after the ups and downs of the Vaud mountains, and we returned to Aigle: twenty or so miles separated us from a glass of fragrant, dry white wine gifted to us by the vines that shine more than ever in the sunset. THE COLLECTOR: Daniel Imhof I’ve been mad about cars since I was a child. When I was 15, I began an apprenticeship as a mechanic. But I wasn't interested in all cars, just Alfa Romeos. At that time, in the Seventies, Alfas were unique. They had aluminium engines, double overhead camshaft, and 130 HP when their competitors stopped at 80: it was a different world. As soon as I finished my apprenticeship I went to work for Alfa Romeo. From that day I was able to live the dream, every day, with the brand I loved. A few years later I set up my own firm and since then have always worked with Alfa Romeos. My clients are wonderful, all true enthusiasts. Some come from far away just to have the carburettors tuned or some other special job. I take care of every mechanical detail. It’s an all-consuming passion. Anyone who has an Alfa Romeo likes to drive it like a sportsman, and although I’ve never been a professional, I’ve been taking part in track events for over forty years, just for the pleasure of driving. Of all my Alfa Romeos, the S.Z. has a special place in my heart. It has a legendary, slightly larger 3-litre V6 engine, height-adjustable suspensions and holds the road like a dream. Driving pleasure at its best. Once there was a slogan: “Alfa Romeo thrills the road.” For me, not just the road but the spirit too. It’s pure emotion with the S.Z. For me, Alfa Romeo means performance, beauty and sound.

For Giovanni Michelotti, the motorcar always symbolised freedom. But as he often remarked, it was also “the most widespread legalised weapon in the world.” This awareness accompanied him throughout his career and made safety—both active and passive—a core principle in his approach to automotive design. Words by Edgardo Michelotti Photos and Drawings: Archivio Storico Michelotti www.archiviostoricomichelotti.it Safety and visibility: pioneering ideas for everyday cars Although my father designed elegant and sporty cars, he was never attracted to supercars. He only created one, the “Laser”, based on the Matra M530, unveiled at the 1971 Geneva Motor Show. He considered them unsuitable for daily use: too low, with poor visibility, overly large, and often not road legal.Instead, he preferred to focus on innovative vehicles for urban use. As early as the 1950s and 60s, he patented several solutions aimed at improving road safety. Among them, an antenna-mounted red brake light positioned on the roof, to make emergency braking visible even to vehicles not directly behind. He also added lateral brake lights, in addition to turn indicators — an idea he applied to the Osca 1600 Coupé shown in Geneva in 1961.That same vehicle also featured an original pagoda-style roof, raised along the doors to improve access and aerodynamics. Initially criticised by French journalist Alain Bertaut, this solution was adopted two years later by Mercedes-Benz on the 230 SL. As I wrote in a previous piece, Bertaut later publicly acknowledged my father’s priority in the design. The first airbag in the world? In 1964, my father addressed a problem that at the time had received little attention: how to protect the front passenger in the event of a collision. Unlike the driver, the passenger had no steering wheel to hold on to. From this concern came an innovative dashboard, with all instruments placed in front of the driver and, on the passenger side, padding made of mattress springs designed to absorb impact. This solution was applied to a Japanese prototype, the Hino Contessa 1300 Coupé  — and could be considered a forerunner of the modern airbag. Considering pedestrians, too In 1967, he designed a one-off model based on the DAF 55 , named Siluro , featuring a sharply tapered front end to reduce impact surface area in the event of a pedestrian collision. This car is still preserved today at the DAF Museum in Eindhoven, the Netherlands. Aerodynamics and wind tunnel testing Aerodynamics was another key focus of his work. The Triumph Le Mans , developed in 1961 on commission from Standard Triumph, with mechanicals by Virgilio Conrero, was likely one of the first cars to be tested in the wind tunnel at the Polytechnic University of Turin, which had just opened in 1958. Data was collected on graph paper and plotted with great care. Shock-absorbing bumpers With the introduction of polyurethane resins in the early 1970s, my father developed shock-absorbing bumpers , designed to deform and protect the bodywork in the event of an impact. The “resins” department within his coachbuilding facility was highly advanced at the time, and many prototypes featured these solutions: the Fiat 128 Coupé Pulsar , Fiat 132 Coupé Flares , the Ferrari 365 GTC4 Spiaggetta  built for Willy Felber, the Fiat 126 City Car , the Hillman Paykan Coupé  for an Iranian client, the Lancia Beta Mizar , several Felber models, and a number of Ferrari 365 GTB/4s  produced for Luigi Chinetti. Urban mobility and vision for the future Urban mobility was a recurring theme in his thinking. I recall a 1978 concept involving split rear wheels — a project that never came to life due to his untimely passing in January 1980.Among his final significant creations was the Fiat 127 Every4R , developed in collaboration with the magazine Quattroruote : a car designed for young people, with a modular body — summer/winter — made up of easily interchangeable panels. The prototype was presented in Turin in 1978. There are many more urban vehicles that came from his pencil, which I will explore on another occasion. For now, I will simply note how, alongside his taste for design, there was always a deep concern for safety, technical progress, and the human aspect.er maintained a consistent focus on safety, technical progress, and the human being. About the author Edgardo Michelotti: Born in 1952, I hold a diploma as a surveyor and pursued a degree in Architecture in Turin. I began working alongside my father in 1973 until his illness and passing in early 1980. I continued his work until 1991, when I transitioned away from the automotive industry. For the next 15 years, I focused on industrial design, while also engaging in photography and archival digitization from 2003 to the present. This allowed me to manage an extensive archive, including the specific cataloging and complete digitization of approximately 6,000 graphic units, 20,000 photographs, 7,000 kg of full-scale design plans, as well as scale models, tools, correspondence, and periodicals. The archive spans over three decades, covering the 1950s, 60s, and 70s.

Words Arturo Merzario Photography Centro Documentazione Alfa Romeo The cowboy racing driver goes back in time half a century, telling the story of the glorious World Championship when Carlo Chiti's Alfa Romeo won with him at the wheel of the 33TT12. A story triggered a couple of years earlier by an incredible series of events that took place in Maranello To tell you how I ended up at Alfa Romeo, we have to take a leap back a few years. In 1969, I had signed a four-year contract with Ferrari to work both on the Formula 1 and on the Prototypes. Mauro Forghieri was technical director. An excellent engineer and designer, but in late 1972 we were testing a Formula 1 single-seater with loads of problems. The 312 B3 was nick-named “Spazzaneve” – the snow plough – due to the specially shaped front that resembled one… It was instantly clear that it would never have been competitive, and the first to pay the consequences of this was Forghieri himself, who found himself relegated to a dusty office in the old headquarters in Via Trento e Trieste, Modena. The Fiat management demanded that a new technical team took over in Maranello, captained by Sandro Colombo. Colombo decided to abandon the classic Ferrari steel trellis chassis structure, adopting a more modern monocoque made in England by John Thompson's TC Prototypes. It was all fine on paper, but not in practice. After the first three GPs with the 312 B2 from the previous season with some parts updated, they went to Spain with just one available B3 “Monocoque”. It was assigned to my team mate, the Belgian Jacky Ickx, who came in last, six laps behind Emerson Fittipaldi in a Lotus. Mine was ready for Montecarlo, but both Jacky and I were forced to withdraw. An absolute disaster that continued into the following races, and indeed in the Netherlands and in Germany the decision was taken to not participate in the race. I went to talk to Enzo Ferrari. I was one of the very few who enjoyed the very honest relationship we had. I think he appreciated it, because he realised that I only had Ferrari’s interests at heart. Moral of the story, I convinced him to give Forghieri a chance to work on a new single-seater. In early August, Mauro, a couple of mechanics and I set off for Zeltweg in a Fiat 124 Estate, towing the B3 behind us. We did endless tests and made a few changes. The result was that in the next Austria Grand Prix I clocked the sixth fastest time, a second behind Fittipaldi, and crossed the finishing line in seventh place. We had taken a step forward, but at the next race in Monza I announced that at the end of the season I would stop racing with Ferrari. In fact, I think that I actually made the decision that the “Commendatore” would have taken only slightly later, considering that my contract was expiring and that the Italian Grand Prix was usually the time when drivers and teams switched around ahead of the new year. Ickx was also let go by Ferrari. Taking our places were Clay Regazzoni, a Maranello veteran, and the very young Niki Lauda, and they found themselves driving an even better honed version of the B3 that Forghieri and I had finally made competitive. But that’s another story. Less than an hour after the news broke of my separation from Ferrari, the home phone in Modena where I lived at the time wouldn’t stop ringing. For the Formula 1 races, I made contact with BRM, as that was where both Regazzoni and Lauda had come from and so there were two free places. It would have been another great story to tell, but the team manager, Tim Parnell, was very honest with me and told me that in all probability BRM wouldn’t have had the means to complete the next year’s championship. So I signed up with Frank Williams, who at the time managed the Team ISO. Having solved the Formula 1 issue, I still had to find a gig for the Prototypes. I was contacted by Roberto Bussinello from Autodelta, who offered me a place racing with Alfa Romeo, and I accepted, but on condition that I was involved in the car development. And that’s how it went. I gripped the 33 steering wheel for the first time in December 1973, in Balocco, where the tests began. The car was brand new, it had a tubular chassis and had abandoned the old V8 for a 12-cylinder boxer that was very similar to what was already used at Ferrari. I then convinced Carlo Chiti, head of Autodelta, to continue testing in Vallelunga, where I was much more at ease. And besides, in the middle of winter it was a far better solution to be just outside Rome than up in the typical cold and rainy weather of Northern Italy. The car was immediately competitive. At its début at the 1974 Monza 1000 km, Mario Andretti and I came in first place. But that year we didn’t take part in all the races, as we preferred to fine-tune the car, focusing on doing even better the following season. 1975 was a brilliant year. The whole team shared the very same goal: to win the world championship. At the start of the season, in Mugello, I was paired with Ickx: we started in the lead, but during the race we had a technical problem with the brakes. The pads couldn’t cope with the stress of the race. After a few laps I had to stop in the pits to quickly mount a new set of brake pads, losing first place to Jabouille and Larrousse's Alpine Renault. But I reassured Chiti that the rest of the car was competitive. And having solved that problem, at the next race in Dijon there was no contest. The battle was between us Alfa drivers, and we didn't give the other teams the slightest chance. There was me, Henri Pescarolo, Derek Bell, Jacques Laffite, Jackie Ickx, Jochen Mass, Mario Andretti, Vittorio Brambilla… There was also Nino Vaccarella, who took part in the Targa Florio, but that year the race didn’t count for the world championship. In the end we won all the races apart from one, and were World Champions. Not even Porsche and Alpine Renault could keep up with us. What we managed to do was not only a technical and sporting victory, but also a historical event, as for the first time we brought a World win back to Alfa Romeo, after the Formula 1 wins by Nino Farina and Juan Manuel Fangio in 1950 and 1951. But there’s more. The following year, the 33TT12 was replaced by the 33SC12, the same 12-cylinder boxer engine but with a boxed chassis. 1976 was another preparatory year, and in 1977 we won the World title again. I often think of how lucky I was to be a racing driver during one of the greatest car racing periods, working with people of the calibre of Mauro Forghieri and Carlo Chiti. Surly and hot-tempered sure, but genuinely unique men. Absolute geniuses.

Miles of countryside and rolling hills, in a particularly flat Swiss region. And a name that takes us through lakes and castles to discover some of the local gastronomic traditions Words Alessandro Giudice Photography Alessandro Barteletti Video Andrea Ruggeri Swiss Grand Tour is a project to discover itineraries driving classic Alfa Romeo cars, in partnership with Astara, the distributor and importer of the Brand in Switzerland. Canton Fribourg Route from Bulle to Murten Distance 80 km Travel time 1h 40min Driving pleasure 4/5 Panorama 4/5 The Gruyère landscape in the Canton of Fribourg has two apparently contrasting features: on one hand, it invites travellers to cross it in one go along the broad, straight main roads, while on the other it offers so many interesting places to stop along the way, with a network of quiet yet smooth minor roads that offer driving pleasure through the fields and meadows to visit characteristic towns and villages with architectural wonders just waiting to be admired. With a name that was given to one of Switzerland’s most famous cheeses, the region is teeming with artisanal fromageries . One of the most representative cheese factories can be found in Pringy, a small village just a short drive from Bulle, the main town in the Gruyère district and the starting point of our itinerary. Pringy and its cheese factory lie at the foot of the mountain that hosts Gruyère castle, one of the most iconic in all of Switzerland. Built in the 13th century, its sophisticated halls furnished with original period pieces host modern exhibitions and collections of various kinds, as well as a considerable number of paintings by artists who have stayed there over the centuries, many inspired by the views of the surrounding landscape. [click to watch the video] (Map by Sansai Zappini) But let’s go in order. We started in Bulle, where we met Jacques Perissét, an affable Alfa enthusiast who, having sold off his large sawmill, now spends much of his time on his collection of cars, many of which are “Biscione” models. He comes to meet us in a shiny 1971 Giulia 2000 GT Veloce that glitters as it passes the historical buildings with its very elegant pale-yellow bodywork. Taking the GTV's DNA to a more sporting level are the special Mille Miglia hubs painted glossy black, an aftermarket product that was very common at the time. We met in the picturesque town centre, with its many original historical buildings standing next to others rebuilt in the same style after a devastating fire that razed the town to the ground in 1805. The atmosphere is buzzing, and we take a pleasant stroll to discover the gems the town has to offer. Starting from a visit to Bulle Castle, a very well-preserved rectangular construction with circular towers on the corners, we climb the steep stairs leading to one of the towers to enjoy the wonderful view of the whole town and the surrounding countryside. Then on to the Musée Gruérien, a modern building offering a spectacular interactive exhibition of settings, costumes and local popular arts, expressed in Bulle through a packed calendar of musical and gastronomic events. While the castle in Bulle has a rectangular architecture with circular towers, the next castle we come across in Romont is a perfect example of the medieval Savoy style, with a large circular tower, sloping roofs and walls around which the whole village grew up. After a slight climb to the top of the hill at an altitude of 780 metres, you get an idea of how the place became a trading hub and meeting place, with a long line of period houses along the right side of the road. Inside, along with many trees and weeping willows and a huge water mill, you will find the Vitromusée Romont, housed in most of the castle. This is a unique glass museum in Switzerland, with 14,000 artistic works and crafts - stained glass, household objects and ornaments - which tell of the centuries-old glassmaking tradition, with themed exhibitions and workshops offering a taste of different processing techniques. Don’t miss it.   We got back on the road after a break in the castle café, lit by large artistic stained-glass windows looking over the garden. We followed the 2000 GTV in a very agile and silent Junior mild-hybrid, with a sporting passenger compartment that perfectly matches the excellent dynamics of the chassis and the general set-up. Without ever breaking the speed limits, Jacques put his foot down, and the roar of the engine marked every gear change and acceleration, offering a timeless image of this splendid gran turismo along the narrow strips of tarmac running through the deep green hills and surrounding fields.   We travelled quickly on to the next stop at the Rossens dam, which blocking the River Sarina created Gruyère Lake, Switzerland's longest artificial lake, measuring 13.5 kilometres running from Fribourg to Bulle. Worth remembering: at the end of the road crossing the dam, it is important to follow the left-hand tunnel, which leads to Fribourg, while the other follows a narrow road that runs along the eastern side of the lake. Approaching the Canton capital and the Sarine district, the traffic became a little busier, also animating the centre of Fribourg, a bustling town particularly on week days. The town is divided into two parts, the lower of which was the original settlement, with its medieval buildings and narrow cobbled streets. It is certainly worth parking the car and enjoying a stroll through the charming historical neighbourhoods, and the panoramic view from the tower of St. Nicholas’ Cathedral, with its unmistakeable Gothic architecture dominating the city (bear in mind the 365 steps to the top…). The tour could also include a trip round the walls or a walk across the many bridges crossing the River Sarine, from the oldest to the futuristic Pont de Poya, the longest cable-stayed bridge in Switzerland, as well as a visit to the Espace, with its permanent exhibition of the extravagant works of the Fribourg-born artist Jean Tinguerly and his wife Niki de Saint Phalle: take a dive into some amazingly fun art.   Heading north from Fribourg, we drove through Courtepin and on to Murten, the point of arrival of our itinerary on the banks of the lake of the same name, the smallest in the Three-Lakes Region. A magical yet almost miniature place: due to the small size of the lake, which seems like a warm swimming pool animated by windsurfs, canoes and sailing boats. Murten itself is a pretty village with narrow alleys packed with bars and restaurants; the lakeside promenade is dotted with sandy beaches, while the “Riviera Friburgeoise” opposite, is dominated by Mount Vully, and the small wine-producing region renowned for its fresh, aromatic white wines. The ideal spot for saying goodbye to Jacques and his Alfa Romeo 2000 GTV with an aperitif and a Moitié-Moitié fondue, a local excellence made with two DOP cheeses, Gruyère and Vacherin Friburgeois. THE COLLECTOR: Jacques Pèrisset The "2000 GTV" (1971) The last model of the legendary dynasty, the Giulia 2000 GT Veloce is the best expression of all those features that have made the coupé designed by Bertone a Biscione icon. Powerful, with its 131 HP developed by a 2-litre, 4-cylinder engine with a speed of up to 200 km/h, it is the emblem of sports driving combined with the elegance of a sophisticated, welcoming passenger compartment, with newly designed, large and comfortable seats. A total of 37,459 2000 GT Veloces were manufactured from 1971 to 1976, 5,171 of which were sent to the US market equipped with Spica indirect injection instead of the two Weber dual-body carburettors .  The Modern Alfas I have loved Alfa Romeos since I was a child, when every trip out was a great adventure. My father drove only Alfa Romeos. The first, a Giulietta Sprint, was followed by a 1750, a 2000 GTV, an Alfetta GTV6, a 75 Turbo, and lastly, a 75 3.0. They were all family cars, and travelling in them I came to love them. The 2000 GT Veloce belonged to a friend of mine, who didn’t want to sell it to me. He said, “It’s my wife’s favourite”, but then the very same day they separated, and he asked me to take it away immediately, he didn't want to see it around. It replaced the 1750 GT I had, which unfortunately had been stolen. I have several Alfa Romeos, a Montreal, a Giulietta Sprint, an SZ, a 4C and an 8C and others besides, but I am particularly fond of the GT Veloce, it’s the one I like to drive the most, it makes me relax. This car perfectly represents my idea of Alfa Romeo, it feels like a tailor-made suit. Considering it’s over fifty years old, its dynamics, set-up and road hold are still exceptional. I like that unmistakeable personality and style of modern Alfas, and of course the roar of their engines. Like the Giulia Quadrifoglio, whose sound reminds me of the past. I’d rather not express any opinion about electric cars as I still haven't made up my mind. Certainly, if one day we have to relinquish the noise of the engine, at least they should keep that unmistakeable Alfa Romeo style.

A hundred-kilometre ring for enjoying the pleasure of driving along the curves of three iconic passes. Among breathtaking landscapes, cult places and a very, very charming surprise at the end. Words Alessandro Giudice Photography Alessandro Barteletti Video Andrea Ruggeri Swiss Grand Tour is a project to discover itineraries driving classic Alfa Romeo cars, in partnership with Astara, the distributor and importer of the Brand in Switzerland. Canton Ticino, Uri, Valais Route from Airolo and returns Distance 100 km Travel time 2h Driving pleasure 5/5 Panorama 5/5 While the summer is the season of sunshine, mild temperatures and brightly coloured nature, in Switzerland it is also the time in which the many passes crossing the huge Swiss mountain ranges are open to traffic. This is reason enough for placing the Alpine peaks at the centre of the fifth itinerary of the Alfa Romeo Swiss Grand Tour, a route that, now customary, is covered by a historical star of the Arese-based car manufacturer. [click to watch the video] (Map by Sansai Zappini) This time, the choice fell on the Montreal, a masterpiece of style designed by Marcello Gandini for Bertone and equipped with an extraordinary V8 engine with mechanical injection that ideally combines this elegant sports car with the iconic 33 Stradale. Driving the car with punch and precision is Valérie Navez, accompanied by her son Alexandre, an authentic “Alfa Romeo addict” despite his young age. With them on board, the Montreal climbed the St. Gotthard, the Furka and the Nufenen passes, which have always been popular with drivers for both the driving pleasure they offer and the uniquely beautiful views that can be admired from the top. Three passes for three cantons, the crossings of which also represent both the natural and administrative borders, distributed along a ring itinerary that starts from Airolo, in Ticino, and returns there after a hundred or so kilometres through Uri and Valais. Roads that saw the more understated yet essential presence of another four-wheeled Biscione star: a white Tonale in the Veloce version, a practical and compact SUV which makes the ideal support vehicle for shooting photos and videos on the move. The whole team set out from Airolo on a beautiful sunny day with a cobalt sky and very little traffic. The spirit adopted to face the route is instantly clear in the choice of road to reach St. Gotthard: not the fast, futuristic “new” road but the 24 hairpin bends of the Tremola, the narrow and arduous road, considered to be “Switzerland's longest road monument”, that climbs for 13 kilometres to the 2091 metres of the pass. This thrilling route is made unique not only by the cobbles covering the bends, it is an authentic dive into the past that however demands special care in the rain, as the porphyry blocks guarantee a less-than-perfect grip for the tyres. At the top of the climb, a large clearing offers rest for tourists, and once also replenishment for travellers and carriages (in fact you can still travel up to the pass on a mail coach drawn by five horses). Here you can take a break at the travellers’ hospice or have a look round the St. Gotthard Museum, even though precedence should be given to the spectacular natural views, admired sitting on the edge of the small Piazza Lake that occupies part of the pass. Having got used to the Tremola, the Cantonale 2 that descends beyond the pass seems almost a motorway. After the small San Carlo Lake, along a straight road you will see a high-relief sculpture of a bull, the symbol of the canton Uri, which starts right here. The route descends as far as Hospental, then turns left along the Cantonale 19 towards Furkapass. A long, broad and scenic stretch of the road runs half-way along the mountains, parallel to the tracks of the Briga-Andermatt train line. The road becomes significantly narrower when it starts to climb towards the pass, with charming views of mountains covered in greenery, waterfalls and stone chalets, as well as a few areas where the snow manages to resist even the summer temperatures. For James Bond fans, a sequence from Goldfinger was filmed here on the bends just after Realp, with 007's Aston Martin DB5 duelling with a Mustang driven, of course, by a beautiful lady. With the same attitude as Valérie, who tackles even the narrowest bends naturally, nonchalantly using the Montreal’s gears and steering wheel as if it were a city car. The Furka Pass has a huge esplanade that focuses the attention of those arriving on the valleys below, distracting them from the extraordinary conformation of the rock face accompanying the road, a natural masterpiece behind those admiring the view. The broad, well-kept road accompanying the descent over the pass, which takes us into the canton Valais, is nothing like the climb. And here, on a left-hand bend, we have a view of the old (and decadent) Hotel Belvedere, an authentic icon for all driving enthusiasts who love to have their picture taken with their special car coming round the bend. Needless to say, taking a photo here is rather complicated, given the crowds of selfie fans, but if you can take one the result is usually worth the effort. The descent from Furka ends in Gletsch, a small Alpine village that is not only the ideal place for admiring the Rhône Glacier but also home to the station where the steam train climbing up to the pass starts from. At the first crossroads in the town, on the right, the road leads up to another crossing, the Grimsel Pass, towards the Bernese Alps: an itinerary that crosses a wilderness of gorges, dams and mountain lakes that we promise to explore another time. Our route on the other hand continues along the main road through a long valley bottom that, passing through Oberwald, reaches Ulrichen, where the Glacier Express, the railway line (reputed to be the “slowest express train in the world”) that joins Zermatt and St. Moritz, passes. And from here, the road takes us back to Ticino across the Nufenen Pass. But not before having taken a stroll among the wooden houses in the perfectly preserved ancient Valais village, an authentic open-air museum. The road climbing towards the pass is spectacular, both in its own right and for the landscapes it runs through. The wide bends climbing towards the pass, Switzerland's highest, offer a natural spectacle framed between the 3000 metres of Pizzo Gallina, on the left, and the 2866 metres of the Nufenstock, on the right. While the Nufenen Pass offers all the simplicity of an Alpine crossing, with the climb that flattens on the peak and descends towards the other slope immediately afterwards, what makes the difference here are the unique details. Starting from the 2478 metres altitude, looking over a vast panorama facilitated by its dominant position. And then, a surprise meeting, just a few metres from the road near a small lake, a large community of dozens of ibexes, grazing, fighting each other with their long horns, watching the people photographing them with no apparent fear, in an absolutely extraordinary symbiosis of humans and nature. This is the last “upper mountain thrill” in our itinerary before taking the long and practically straight road down towards Airolo, through Val Bedretto. Accompanied by the spring waters of the river that originates on the Nufenen and which gave its name to the canton from which this great adventure set out, the Ticino. THE COLLECTOR: Navez Family The "Montreal" For us, Alfa Romeo is a family history, which began in the 1970s with my grandfather, who had a penchant for the Alfetta, and my grandmother, who drove an Alfasud. They handed down their passion to my father, who gave his future wife a Spider 2000 as a wedding present. The Montreal we took to the Swiss passes was made on 5 December 1974 and sold by the Swiss Alfa Romeo dealer in Agno, in the canton of Ticino, and was then sold to its owner, in San Gallen. The Montreal was the car my grandfather dreamed of, and my father bought it in his memory. Although my grandfather died a few years ago, when my father drives it he imagines having his father sitting happily by his side - Alexandre Navez. The Modern Alfas I have always been an Alfa Romeo fan. I love classic cars, with their timeless charm supported by technical and style solutions that created an authentic international legend. Today's Alfa Romeos maintain their distinctive and recognisable style and the top models, bearing the cloverleaf, also offer performances worthy of the brand. I would like to become a designer and give the Alfa Romeos of the future the character that made them unique in the past. An operation that has to look ahead, without seeking to copy the classic style codes, because the Alfa Romeo spirit has always looked to innovation and has to continue to do so - Alexandre Navez.

An intimate exploration of Cisitalia's profound impact on the automotive world, crafted by two of the brand’s most renowned historians. Shedding light on the enduring legacy and how Cisitalia's journey shaped Porsche's destiny. For the first time ever, the three most iconic Cisitalia 202 models – the Coupé Gran Sport, "C" Cabriolet, and Spyder Mille Miglia – are captured together in an exclusive shoot. Text by Mario Simoni, with the contribution of Nino Balestra Photography by Jeroen Vink, Mario Simoni Archive Video by Andrea Ruggeri Part 1: THE CISITALIA MYSTERY Three iconic car brands – Porsche, Abarth, and Alfa Romeo – might not exist today in the way we know them if it hadn’t been for the remarkable adventure of Cisitalia, a now largely forgotten company founded in Turin in 1946. Though the company lasted a mere three years, Cisitalia left an indelible mark on the car world, with the potential to change the fate of giants such as Fiat and Ferrari. Picture yourself standing on a motorway bridge, and imagine that, as if by magic, every Porsche, Abarth and Alfa Romeo passing beneath you suddenly disappears into thin air because, in this alternate reality, they never existed at all. Wouldn’t that be incredible! Yet, if 80 years ago, in the midst of World War II, a bold Turin entrepreneur named Piero Dusio had not decided to set up a new car company, Cisitalia, the history of these brands would have very different, or perhaps they might not have existed at all. The stories, projects, people, and above all the twists of fate in that brief three-year period – 1946 to 1948 – truly changed the course of automotive history. Yet, what is truly astonishing is that almost no one remembers the brand anymore. Cisitalia’s ‘Rampant Ibex’ and the events that made it so significant have faded into obscurity. However, two cars remain etched in memory, securing Cisitalia's place in automotive history: the 202 Coupé, designed by Pinin Farina and regarded as one of the most beautiful cars in the world, and the F1 360 Grand Prix, engineered by Porsche. Technologically speaking, the 360 Grand Prix was at least 20 years ahead of the single-seaters dominating the Grand Prix circuits at the time. So let’s unravel the "mystery" of Cisitalia. What made the 202 the most coveted sports car of the 1940s, how were the dreams of glory and fortune burned out in just three years, and why did the fate of these iconic automotive brands become inextricably linked to that of Cisitalia? In 1944, Piero Dusio, a wealthy Turin industrialist, accomplished racing driver and, at the time, chairman of the Juventus football club, decided to set up a new car company to manufacture sportscars intended not only for racing but also for everyday use. To bring this vision to life, Dusio enlisted one of the greatest automotive engineers in history, Dante Giacosa, the man who went on to become the father of the Fiat 500 and all Fiat's production until the 1970s. Thanks to his friendship with Gianni Agnelli, Fiat "loaned" Giacosa to Cisitalia, even as the tragedies of war loomed over Turin and much of Italy. From the left: Piero Taruffi, Piero Dusio and Giovanni Savonuzzi. Written on the photo are the words "Tempi felici, 1946", meaning "Good times". This collaboration led to the development of the first tubular chassis in car history, repurposing chromium-molybdenum tubular elements originally developed for Fiat fighter planes.. The first car built on this innovative chassis was the D46 single-seater, followed shortly after by a series of coupés and spiders bearing the project code 202. Piero Taruffi, at the wheel, and Piero Dusio by his side, proudly pose at the presentation of the first fully completed D46. At that time, in early 1946, the course of Fiat’s history and its entire future production could have been different. Piero Dusio offered Dante Giacosa the position of Cisitalia’s technical director, asking him to oversee the design of all upcoming models, starting with a new Formula 1 car. Although Giacosa had not yet reached the pinnacle of prestige and influence he would later enjoy at Fiat, he turned Dusio’s tempting offer down, seeing it as fraught with uncertainties. Instead, he recommended a young engineer who had already made a name for himself in Fiat’s aeronautics division: Giovanni Savonuzzi. Unwittingly, Dusio had drawn the lucky straw. Savonuzzi, who would soon become Cisitalia’s technical director, was one of the leading aerodynamics experts at a time when this science had been applied little to the automotive industry. He was also one of the most talented designers of his era, and his brilliance extended beyond Cisitalia to include some of Ghia’s most celebrated creations until the mid-1950s. Savonuzzi’s genius shaped the final development of the D46’s bodywork and the design of all Cisitalia tubular-chassis sports cars. His crowning achievements include the 202 Spider, which Tazio Nuvolari drove to near-victory in the 1947 Mille Miglia, and the 202 Aerodinamica Savonuzzi, which introduced groundbreaking innovations including the flat underbody and the streamlined bodywork with large rear fins. Engineer Giovanni Savonuzzi standing next to the 202 "Cassone". The 202 Coupé Mille Miglia, known as the "Aerodinamica Savonuzzi," was built shortly after the "Cassone," retaining its chassis and mechanics. Its defining features include the rear fins and wheel covers, and a small aerodynamic spoiler above the rear window. However, the model that truly defined Cisitalia's legacy, indeed earning a place in New York's Museum of Modern Art, is the 202 Gran Sport, officially credited as a masterpiece by Pinin Farina, who crafted the first examples of the coupé. In fact, the Turin coachbuilder merely refined a few elements – especially the rear section – of the stunning coupé originally designed by Savonuzzi. A Journey Through Time: The Incredible Legacy of this Cisitalia 202 Gran Sport, Chassis #035 (...Read more) Chassis no. 035 equipped with engine no. 287, is undoubtedly a true relic from the golden era of Italian car design. Produced in 1948 at the historic factory on Corso Peschiera in Turin, this Cisitalia 202 Gran Sport is one of the earliest examples of the brand's craftsmanship. Originally equipped with the 4-cylinder engine no. 087, it was refurbished in the 1990s with a similar engine, preserving its historical integrity while enhancing its performance. This 202 boasts an impressive competitive pedigree. In 1949, bearing race number 449, it competed in the legendary Mille Miglia, finishing in 109th place in a fiercely contested race. That same year, it secured 12th place in the prestigious Coppa InterEuropea, further demonstrating its racing prowess. And yet the story of this car goes beyond the track. Chassis 035 also had a remarkable social life, one of its distinguished owners being the famous Italian film producer Carlo Ponti, husband of Sofia Loren, adding a touch of cinematic glamour to its history. The 202 Gran Sport captured the attention not only of industrial titans such as Henry Ford II and Prince Rainier of Monaco but also figures from the entertainment world including Renzo Rossellini. After nearly 70 years and passing through the hands of more than a dozen Italian owners, the car found a new home in 2017 with an avid Dutch collector, ensuring that its legacy would endure for future generations. It took over fifty years for the truth about the true author of that masterpiece to emerge. While Pinin Farina's signature was certainly more prestigious than that of the relatively unknown designer from Ferrara, Giovanni Savonuzzi’s name was actually "forgotten" because, in the autumn of 1947, just as the 202 Coupé Gran Sport was making its début, Savonuzzi left Cisitalia following a series of disagreements with Dusio. The main source of their conflict was the "mad" idea of building the most advanced and sophisticated single-seater ever, designed by Porsche, the same team that had produced the Auto Union cars that dominated the Grand Prix circuit in the 1930s. The main source of their conflict was the "mad" idea of building the most advanced and sophisticated single-seater ever, designed by Porsche, the same team that had produced the Auto Union cars that dominated the Grand Prix circuit in the 1930s. Dusio was introduced to the Porsche family, who had fled to Austria in the aftermath of the devastation of World War II, by Tazio Nuvolari, who had been approached in September 1946 by Carlo Abarth and Rudolf Hruschka to find a buyer for Porsche's new Formula 1 project. Late 1946 was a pivotal moment that changed the fate of Cisitalia, Porsche, Abarth and even Alfa Romeo forever. Enthusiastic about the project, Dusio made a significant financial investment a few months later, purchasing the plans for the 360 Grand Prix and a series of other designs, including the 370 Sport coupé, a prototype that would shape the future of Porsche’s models for decades to come. The 370 Sport drawings, by Lorenzo Preti for Graphicar based on the original designs, revealed what the car would have been, although it never progressed beyond the early stages. The initial plan was to use a mid-mounted V8 engine, but by 1948, they had decided to opt for a simpler two-litre, six-cylinder engine—a configuration that would influence Stuttgart's models for the next 50 years. With this capital, the Porsche family was able to secure the release of Ferdinand Porsche, who had been imprisoned in France for collaborating with the Nazi regime, and to begin production of the first 356 – a car that might otherwise never have been built – in 1948. Meanwhile, Carlo Abarth and Rudolf Hruschka, hired by Cisitalia to develop the 360 Grand Prix in Turin, rose to the top of the technical and sporting divisions of the company after Savonuzzi’s departure. They held key roles in the brand's many racing victories, first with the D46 and the 202, and later with the 204, in the late 1940s. Three Cisitalias from the Abarth team lined up for the official presentation of the racing division on April 15, 1949. The 202 Spyder Giacosa stands between two 204s: Cisitalia’s sporting and commercial successes were widely celebrated in the press of the time. The brand’s prestigious patrons and clients included Roberto Rossellini, Prince Rainier of Monaco and Henry Ford II. However, the biggest headlines in the automotive world focused on the development of the 360 Grand Prix, a technological marvel equipped with a supercharged 1.5-litre, 12-cylinder boxer engine delivering 400 hp, mounted centrally in the rear. It featured a five-speed sequential gearbox, manually selectable all-wheel drive and Porsche’s signature independent suspension. This engineering masterpiece was poised to leave the victorious Alfa Romeos from the 1950 and 1951 World Championships in the dust. Cisitalia, a dominant force both on the racetrack and in the sports car market, seemed destined to become what Ferrari would later become, as both brands were taking their first steps during the same period. But fate had other plans … A Masterpiece Reborn: The Story of the Cisitalia 202 “C” Cabriolet, Chassis NO. 0180 SC (...Read more) The Cisitalia 202 “C” Cabriolet, chassis 0180 SC, produced in 1951, is a rare example of Italian automotive elegance. It was bought in 2016 by a Dutch collector who meticulously restored it to its original condition, including the correct colour and technical specifications. After leaving the Racconigi factory, the car crossed the border into Switzerland, where it remained in the hands of four enthusiasts for nearly fifty years. In 1999, the car travelled to Japan, before returning to Italy in 2005. Unlike some of its siblings, this 202 does not have a racing history, as the Cabriolet was never designed for competition. Its bodywork, crafted by Stabilimenti Farina, is one of the last produced from the “C” series. It benefited from some stylistic changes, including the larger chrome bumpers, a redesigned front grille and new oval side air intakes. Distinctive details like the curved windshield and rear boot further enrich its design, while the Cabriolet's chassis was reinforced with a tubular element to ensure greater structural rigidity. The 370 Grand Prix project, sold by Porsche, largely based on designs developed for Auto Union before the war, proved to be practically unworkable when it was attempted in 1947 in Turin. The legendary racing driver Tazio Nuvolari in the Grand Prix he so desired but would never drive. Its livery, in the official Argentinian racing colours of blue and yellow, were coincidentally Nuvolari's personal favourites. The lack of skilled labour and the necessary equipment, logistical challenges in coordinating with Porsche designers stationed in Gmünd, Austria, and difficulties sourcing the expensive materials needed, as well as some design miscalculations – particularly regarding the engine and all-wheel drive – made the development of the 360 Grand Prix an endless ordeal, despite the fact that the car's strongest advocate and promoter was none other than Tazio Nuvolari himself. All of Dusio and Cisitalia's resources were consumed by the ambitious Formula 1 project, while production of the 202 slowed significantly due to financial and organisational issues. Furthermore, the 202's rather modest four-cylinder engine, derived from the Fiat 1100 and capable of producing over 60 horsepower, lacked the allure and roar of Alfa Romeo's six-cylinder or Ferrari's twelve-cylinder engines. By 1948, these factors pushed Cisitalia into a deep financial crisis. The company was forced to suspend the 360 Grand Prix project, with only one single-seater completed and a second in progress. Dusio filed bankruptcy proceedings for the company and moved the Grand Prix car, along with parts of the equipment, to Argentina, where he set up a new company, Autoar. It wasn’t until 1953 that the F1 car finally hit the track in Buenos Aires for a series of tests, which were soon halted due to emerging reliability issues. Carlo Abarth & C was born from Cisitalia's financial ruin in 1949, acquiring some of its equipment, designs and inventory. A key addition to Abarth’s roster was the 204 Spider, which became the first of many models to bear the iconic Scorpion badge, a symbol that would soon become famous worldwide. Cisitalia continued to produce sports cars until the mid-1960s, but the feverish and exhilarating pace of the first three years was never matched again. The Legendary 202 Spyder Mille Miglia Chassis no. 021 SMM: An Icon of Italian Racing (...Read more) Cisitalia 202 Spyder became one of the most coveted racing cars of the 1940s. Chassis 021 SMM, produced in 1948, was purchased by Sicilian driver Ignazio Salonia and earned a place of honour in the competitions of its era. It took part in the 1949 Mille Miglia and later made its mark at the 1950 Targa Florio and the 1951 Coppa d’Oro di Sicilia, where it finished in 13th place. After an interruption in its racing career, the car resurfaced in the 2000s, restored and ready to relive its glory days in the historic Mille Miglia. Today, the 202 Spyder Mille Miglia still proudly bears the number 535, which it wore at the start of the 1948 race in Brescia. Since 2022, it has been owned by a Dutch collector. Although it appears slightly different from other 202 models featured in the photoshoot in the Netherlands, it has the same tubular chassis and mechanical components as its sisters. Of all the 35 or so Spyders produced, the Mille Miglia version was the most powerful, boasting 65 horsepower and a top speed of 175 km/h. Often referred to as the “202 Spyder Nuvolari,” the car was named in honour of the legendary racing driver, who allowed Cisitalia to use his name to commemorate his remarkable 1947 performance. One individual who left a lasting mark on the Italian car industry at that time was Rudolf Hruschka. His skill, determination, firmness and typical German precision were decisive in saving Alfa Romeo in the early 1950s. After leaving Cisitalia, Hruschka was significantly involved in the industrialisation of the Alfa 1900, followed shortly by the Giulietta. Years later, he was fully credited for the development of the Alfasud, a car whose success was due to his vision in every aspect. Part 2: CISITALIA THROUGH THE EYES OF MARIO SIMONI AND NINO BALESTRA We are here with Nino Balestra, a leading expert on Cisitalia and a lifelong car enthusiast. Let's begin by asking: what sparked your love for Cisitalia, a passion that has lasted for over half a century? Balestra: Right after the war – and unfortunately, I’m quite old now – there was a lot of excitement in our house. My father, uncle, cousins and older brother were all thrilled because the 1947 Mille Miglia, the first post-war race, was about to begin. The big news was that Nuvolari would be racing in a Cisitalia, an unknown brand at the time. The Mille Miglia route that year passed through Vicenza on the return leg, as the course had been reversed. So, we stood on the road in Vicenza, and if I remember well, the cars began to arrive around 3 pm. At one point, the crowd started cheering, and I could hear the roar getting closer, but I couldn’t understand why. A Topolino passed by, then perhaps an Aprilia, and I thought the cheers were for local drivers. But in fact, the crowd was shouting for him… Nuvolari was approaching. I saw this red blur pass by and had no idea what it was. Then my brother, who was equally excited, told me it was Nuvolari in a Cisitalia. That really struck me. Even the name "Cisitalia" felt like something ethereal, almost like a breeze, a word that just slips through your mind. And then, there was the allure of Nuvolari. In September, we went to see him race in the D46 single-seater at the Idroscalo circuit, and I think he finished second or third in his class. He was already in poor health, with bandages on his face, but to me, he was a hero. That was the moment when I fell in love with Cisitalia, and if someone had offered me three Ferraris or two Maseratis, I wouldn’t have taken them, because Cisitalia had won me over. And that love led you to write several books about Cisitalia and meet the figures who shaped its incredible history. Balestra: Yes, it did. There’s a bit of both fortune and misfortune in that. The misfortune is that I am old enough to have met these people, but they are no longer with us, which saddens me. But I was very lucky to get to know them: Carlo Dusio, Giovanni Savonuzzi, Corrado Millanta, Rudolf Hruschka, Piero Taruffi. I never met Nuvolari, of course, he had already passed away, but I did meet his widow, Carolina Nuvolari, and many other important people. One afternoon, Carlo Dusio called me and said, “I’ve heard my father is back in Italy from Argentina. He’ll be in Turin for dinner tonight and would love to meet you. Can you make it?” I jumped in the car and was in Turin in about four hours. We went to a charming restaurant in the hills called "Il Cumpilot," where the food was excellent. It was just me, Carlo and Piero Dusio, who was quite old, tired, and frail by then. He passed away about six months later. Did they not want to recall the history of Cisitalia? Balestra: No, quite the opposite. He thanked me deeply for reviving it and rekindling enthusiasm for the brand.. What has Cisitalia represented in automotive history, and despite its significant role, why do so few people remember the name today? Balestra: Yes, it was certainly made history, both mechanically and aesthetically. Take the D46 single-seater, for example, with its tubular chassis. This was the first mass-produced car with this type of chassis. Piero Dusio claimes victory in Turin during the presentation of the Cisitalia D46. The D46, the first single-seater racing cars produced by Cisitalia, was a symbol of post-war Italian engineering prowess. They made about 45 of them. It was lighter and much stiffer than the traditional longitudinal chassis beams. Ferrari, by comparison, was a step behind. Born around the same time, but their chassis were two longitudinal tubes with some cross members, which naturally caused torsion. The Cisitalia chassis on the other hand were incredibly rigid, a huge leap forward. From there, they moved on to the 202 Sport, the Nuvolari Spyder, and then the Berlinetta. This was Pinin Farina’s true masterpiece, marking a complete break with the past. In the period immediately after the war, cars were still being made with heavily chromed designs of the late '30s. But with the Berlinetta, Pinin Farina presented a sleek, minimalist line. A line… Balestra: … that was perfect. Sixty or seventy years later, you wouldn’t change a thing. If you handed the 202 Berlinetta to Giugiaro today and asked him what he would change, he’d say it’s impossible—he wouldn’t change a single part. Although much of the technical and aesthetic development of Cisitalia’s production, particularly the 202, can be attributed to Giovanni Savonuzzi, one of the brand’s brilliant engineers, alongside Dante Giacosa. Balestra: Giacosa had the intuition, but Savonuzzi perfected it. Savonuzzi was a genius. I was lucky to know him well. He was the kind of man who could sit down at a piano and play like a professional concert pianist, then dive into technical problems, set them aside, and design a car. He worked for Ghia and many other coachbuilders, solving both technical and design challenges. Let’s not forget his aerodynamics work, including the 202 with fins. Two cars were built, and they were stunning. The 202 Aerodinamica, the one with the fins, wasn’t just beautiful, it was functional too. In tests on the Turin-Milan motorway, with a 1100cc engine producing 60 hp, it reached 201 km/h, thanks entirely to its aerodynamics. The 202 was Cisitalia’s most prestigious model and was incredibly successful. At first, everyone wanted one: actors, directors, even Henry Ford. But it was practically forgotten in just two years. What were the great strengths and weaknesses of the 202? We know its design was stunning. Balestra: The 202 was a huge success. The cabriolet was coveted by figures like director Roberto Rossellini, and Henry Ford ordered two, one to drive and one to put on display in the Ford Museum. Prince Rainieri III of Monaco, known for his passion for cars, was among the elite who owned a Cisitalia. His ownership of a Cisitalia reflected his appreciation for fine automotive craftsmanship and engineering. Its main drawback, however, was the engine, which wasn’t powerful enough. Savonuzzi, ever the genius, believed that the car deserved at least a 1500cc engine, so he designed a twin-cam 1500cc engine with either two or four valves per cylinder, also for the racing version. But when he suggested it to Dusio, he was told that it was out of the question, and they had to remain focused on the Grand Prix project. Yet that engine could have saved Cisitalia. The 202’s success came from its design – sensational and innovative for the time – so much so that it was put on show at the Museum of Modern Art in New York as a "moving sculpture." Its initial success was also due to its nimble engine. With 60 horsepower, the car was incredibly light, and compared to a Fiat 1100, it was leagues apart. Nuvolari kept up with Biondetti in the Alfa Romeo 2.9 until the last stretch of the 1947 Mille Miglia. Sure. But the issue was that Dusio channelled all their resources into the Grand Prix project, built in Turin between 1947 and 1949. The story of the Grand Prix is as fascinating as that of the 202 and Cisitalia itself, especially as the design came from Porsche. How did the contact between Dusio and Porsche come about? What events led to the founding of Porsche, thanks to Cisitalia? Balestra: It was through Corrado Millanta, who we could call the press officer, even though he didn’t have an official title. Millanta was a jack of all trades, a powerhouse of ideas, and a brilliant photographer (most of the pictures in Cisitalia books are Millanta’s). He told Taruffi that the D46 had been a success, the Nuvolari Spyder was a success, and the 202 cabriolet and the Berlinetta had been successes. Accustomed to nothing but triumphs, Dusio didn’t give much thought to the potential difficulties a project as ambitious as a Grand Prix car might entail. Millanta suggested that the only person capable of designing a Grand Prix car was Ferdinand Porsche. At the time, Porsche was imprisoned by the Allies in France, accused of collaboration with the Nazi regime. Dusio made some inquiries and managed to pay a hefty ransom to free Porsche, who, in fact, had done nothing wrong, he was simply an engineer who designed engines, tanks, planes, and so forth. That’s how they met. Porsche’s sons were in Austria, in Gmünd. Dusio and Millanta travelled there in Dusio’s Packard, impeccably dressed by Turin’s finest tailor. They arrived to find Porsche’s sons, who had been eating ham sandwiches on the train. Dusio and Millanta took them to a fine restaurant, where they let them eat for two hours before getting down to business. The Porsches already had a Grand Prix car design in the works – one of the small 1500cc models. When their father came home, they sealed a deal in which Porsche would provide plans for the Grand Prix car, a rear-engine Gran Turismo coupé with a flat-six engine (which would become the Porsche 911), a tractor, a water pump, and other inventions, in exchange for a substantial amount. Today, Dusio’s heirs could walk up to Porsche’s headquarters in Stuttgart, ring the bell, and say, "Excuse me, but this factory is ours." A blueprint of the Cisitalia Porsche P360 Exactly, because that’s where the funds to build Porsche’s empire came from. Balestra: Dusio bought the designs for the Grand Prix and the Gran Turismo two-seater Berlinetta, with a rear-mounted 2000cc flat-six engine. That’s the Porsche. So, they could rightfully claim, "No, Porsche is ours, not yours." Who exactly was Piero Dusio, the founder of Cisitalia? A great industrialist? An unlucky genius? Or perhaps a reckless entrepreneur who took too many risks and lost it all? Some say that Dusio practically owned half of Turin, and just months earlier, he had been president of Juventus football club. Who was the real Piero Dusio? Balestra: He was a force of nature, a dreamer, someone who, perhaps "unfortunately" for him, had been good at anything he did from the age of 20. He was always lucky. Before the war, he started out in oilcloth manufacturing, which had nothing to do with mechanics, but it was a huge success. That oilcloth was used for everything, even for the army. He made a fortune from that. Before the war, he already had a racing team with a couple of Alfa Romeo 6C and 8C cars. Piero Dusio, racing an Alfa Romeo, 1931, Sassi-Superga Hillclimb, Turin. He raced many drivers, and even raced himself, finishing third in the 1938 Mille Miglia. I believe he even beat Nuvolari in a race on the Stelvio. He was a skilled driver, someone who knew how to handle a car well. So yes, Piero Dusio was all of those things you mentioned. In Turin dads used to tell their children, “So here we are in Piazza San Carlo, the centre of the city. Everything over here belongs to Agnelli, and everything over there to Dusio”. Unfortunately, due to the huge costs of developing the futuristic 12-cylinder, all-wheel-drive 360 Grand Prix, everything essentially went up in smoke. Cisitalia lasted until the 1960s, but it was a completely different company by then. Another car company that took inspiration from Cisitalia and went on to become one of the most famous brands in the world was Abarth. Carlo Abarth came to Turin precisely to work on the Porsche-designed F1 car and inherited much of Cisitalia’s equipment, including the Abarth exhaust systems, which were actually … Balestra: ... Savonuzzi’s exhausts. Carlo Abarth and the first co-owner and co-founder of Abarth, the driver Guido Scagliarini (wearing the cap), standing in front of Abarth's first headquarters with the 204 and Nuvolari at the wheel. … and the Abarth manifolds were also designed by Savonuzzi at Cisitalia. Let’s not forget that Abarth’s first racing cars were, in essence, Cisitalias. Balestra: Abarth arrived at just the right moment, saw the opportunity, and capitalised on the good things that were still left. He based his success on this. I didn’t know Abarth personally, I met his wife, but not him. He certainly had a very different mindset and approach from Piero Dusio. Dusio was all imagination and adventure, "Let’s do it! Is there a risk? So what? We’ll do it!", while Abarth was far more cautious, carefully putting one foot in front of the other. Abarth manifolds were also designed by Savonuzzi at Cisitalia And he managed to… Balestra: … build a legend in his own right. We mentioned that Ferrari and Cisitalia débuted around the same time. Yet Ferrari went on to become the most prestigious car brand in the world, while Cisitalia, which had all it took to be just as important, faded into obscurity, remembered only by enthusiasts. Why? Was it only a question of the huge costs of the Grand Prix project, or was it also Dusio’s tendency to juggle too many things at once? Balestra: Even without the Grand Prix project, I don’t think Cisitalia would have achieved the same level of success as Ferrari, given Dusio’s character. Ferrari had a completely different personality. He took risks too, but with a different mindset: "I’ll take the risk, but I know there’s a safety net, so if I fall, I’ll be fine”. Dusio, on the other hand, took risks thinking, "If I fall, there’s nothing but rocks beneath me. Oh well, so be it.". It’s a shame, though, it would have been great if Cisitalia had continued to exist because it had a wonderful spirit, which still lives on in the surviving cars. About 200 202 models were built, and I think around 150 are still out there, as they occasionally resurface for restoration. Balestra: Yes, in fact there’s one just a few miles from here, and it’s about to be restored. This goes to show that I wasn’t the only one to be bowled over by it, when I was seven. The car was intrinsically innovative; otherwise, most of the 202s would have been destroyed. Instead, very few were lost. I think Cisitalia has a survival rate that no other car brand can boast. But the excellent 202 wasn’t enough to save Cisitalia. One of the most important reasons behind its downfall was probably the severe credit crunch of 1947, which slashed financing, raised interest rates, and caused rampant inflation. Even Fiat struggled, as it had to finance its recovery at a time when funding was being cut across the board. And that was the time when Dusio had spent everything, much of it on Porsche and the Grand Prix project. Balestra: Yes, that was certainly a tough time for everyone. Dusio found himself in trouble for the first time in his life, overwhelmed by such huge problems that he didn’t know what to do next. Unfortunately, that financial crisis was a painful but crucial turning point. He made another mistake when he invested his last remaining funds in Argentina, relying on promises of substantial funding from Perón to build an automotive industry there. Instead of concentrating his remaining resources on the 202 and Cisitalia in Italy, he bet everything on Argentina. Balestra: That’s right. If he had listened to Savonuzzi and hadn’t stubbornly insisted on finishing the Grand Prix project, which he knew would bankrupt him, things might have been different. Savonuzzi had told him that they needed to focus on the 202 because they had plenty of orders and could have produced 150–200 units a year if they were properly organised. But the Grand Prix was a sinkhole. Dusio said, "Engineer, it’ll ruin me, but I will finish the Grand Prix." And it did ruin him. If he had listened to Savonuzzi and built that 1500cc twin-cam engine, it could have turned things around. Instead, he was lured by the illusion of major investments from Perón and ended up with nothing. The Cisitalia 1500cc twin-cam engine So the Grand Prix, which Nuvolari fought so hard to get on the track, ended up in Argentina, where it was tested in 1951 but never fully developed. Balestra: Yes, I had the chance to speak with a guy called Rossi, an Italian engineer who taught at the University of Buenos Aires. He had been tasked with getting Cisitalia back up and running in 1950–51 for a Grand Prix and to attempt a record. He sent me a package with photocopies of all the notes: every day, every hour, every minute, they recorded everything. They disassembled and reassembled the pistons, but the connecting rod bearings kept failing – first the third, then the fifth. It was an impossible situation. At one point, a top Argentine driver was asked to test the Grand Prix. When he reached 150 km/h, he thought, "Now I’ll engage the all-wheel drive”, but the car spun out immediately. They couldn’t figure out what had happened, but luckily the F1 car wasn’t damaged. When they took it back to the lab, they discovered that the front and rear axles had different gear ratios, things like that. The project was so advanced that even Porsche’s engineers couldn’t solve all the problems it had . Balestra: Yes, it was proof that they had truly pushed the limits, and even gone beyond them. There’s a story linked to the 360 Grand Prix that might be a legend, but Carlo Dusio swore it was true. When his father left for Argentina and lost interest in Cisitalia, what remained in Italy was left in the hands of his son, Carlo, who was just 25 years old at the time. The young man, who had been living in luxury until then, had to come up with something. He patched things together, built some prototypes, and even spoke with Ford, hoping to build a sports car with American mechanics, something like a Mustang for Ford or a Corvette for Chevrolet, but nothing came of it. In the end, he became a small-scale tuner of Fiat 600s, increasing their engine size to 750cc – a small, almost Abarth-like operation. He sold a few dozen, maybe a hundred, before being forced to shut down. He didn’t go bankrupt, though, he settled all his debts. But the day he closed the office, he took the crankshaft from the 360 Grand Prix, which was in pieces, planning to take it home as a souvenir of the adventure. As he crossed the Po River, he decided to get rid of it because it felt like bad luck. He opened the car door, walked over to the parapet and tossed the crankshaft into the river. When he got home, he tore down the curtains embroidered with Cisitalia’s Rampant Ibex symbol, one by one, and refused to hear the name Cisitalia mentioned again. And so, the story of Cisitalia came to an end, a story that you’ve revived in this conversation and in your books. Balestra: Yes, it was by chance that I stumbled upon a Cisitalia and didn’t know what it was. I called the museum in Turin, and the director at the time, who had gone to school with Carlo Dusio, said he didn’t know either. He asked if I had spoken with Dusio and gave me his number. I called him, and at first he was rather offhand, but half an hour later, he called me back asking for more details. I had found a Cisitalia with a BPM engine, the last 202 built, so I was confused about what it was. After another half-hour, he called again and said, "Can you book me a room at the Belvedere hotel in Bassano? I stayed there a few times when I used to sell my Fiat 600s to the local dealer. Book me a room there, I’ll be coming with my wife. We can have dinner and talk”. That’s when the story came back to life. Did he tell you everything he knew? Balestra: Yes, we talked until 1 in the morning. We decided to have one last drink. There was me, Carlo Dusio, his wife Nanda, my wife, and two other car enthusiasts I had invited to help figure out how to approach Carlo. And at that moment, the floodgates opened and Carlo talked until 4 am. Thank you again, it’s been a fascinating conversation. Special thanks to Alex von Mózer, whose support was essential in bringing together the three Cisitalia 202 featured in this article, publicly appearing together in a photoshoot for the first time. Credits and Acknowledgments The author, Mario Simoni: Born in Imola in 1954, Mario Simoni has been immersed in the world of cars and racing since childhood. Growing up close to racing circuits, Simoni nurtured a deep passion for engines, which led him to a brief career as a driver in the Renault 5 Alpine Cup. However, he soon decided to leave the racetrack to pursue "real" professions, without ever straying far from his love for automobiles. Determined to combine his passion with journalism, Simoni began by publishing articles for a minor magazine. The turning point in his career came when he had the opportunity to collaborate with Autosprint, Italy's most prestigious motorsport weekly. In 1985, Simoni became part of the editorial team that launched the magazine Auto, a monthly reference for enthusiasts, where he became head of the service. In parallel, he continued writing for Autosprint, AM magazine, and contributed to the TV show Tg2 Motori on RAI. In 2001, Simoni encountered the legendary Cisitalia, a meeting that marked a turning point in his career. Fascinated by the numerous aspects of this historic car manufacturer, he dedicated himself to uncovering the brand’s still-hidden secrets, culminating in the publication of his book "Un sogno chiamato Cisitalia", an important work that sheds new light on the history of one of Italy’s most iconic car manufacturers. The co-author, Nino Balestra: Nino Balestra, a jeweler by profession, is also a historian, collector, and former race car driver. He is one of the founders of the A.S.I. (Italian Classic Car Association), the second president of the C.V.A.E. (Veneto Historic Auto-Moto Club), and the former director of La Manovella. He is the author of numerous books and essays and a contributing journalist. He was also a founder and President of the Bonfanti-VIMAR Automobile Museum until 2014. Today, he is responsible for the permanent section called the "Galleria del Motorismo, Mobilità e Ingegno Veneto-Giannino Marzotto". Additionally, he serves as the President of the Cisitalia International Club. A passionate scholar of Cisitalia, Balestra has dedicated part of his life to researching and promoting the history of this iconic car manufacturer. He has published several books on Cisitalia, including the well-known "Un Sogno chiamato Cisitalia", a work that unveiled the secrets, innovations, and historical events related to the brand. Thanks to his writings, Cisitalia has received renewed attention and has found a place in the hearts of classic car enthusiasts. The photographer, Jeroen Vink : Jeroen Vink is a highly skilled professional photographer residing near Amsterdam, Netherlands. With a broad range of interests and talents, he is not only an accomplished photographer but also an engineer with a deep passion for vintage cars and fine watches. His expertise lies in automotive and product photography, particularly in the fascinating fields of jewelry and watches. Throughout his career, he has built an impressive portfolio, collaborating with prestigious clients such as Stellantis, Renault, Fiat Professional, Watchtime magazine, and Hodinkee. VSOC (Very Superior Old Cars) : Founded in 1992 by two mechanical engineering students from Delft University, Alex von Mózer and Peter, VSOC (Very Superior Old Cars) was born from their desire to turn a hobby into a profession. The name, a reference to the prestigious cognac term "Very Superior Old Pale", reflects their ambition to provide top-quality service in the world of classic cars. After thorough market research, Alex and Peter identified a need for assistance in purchasing cars, and quickly expanded their offerings to include car sales as well. In 1997, Alex von Mózer took full ownership of the company. Based in Sassenheim, Netherlands, VSOC has earned an international reputation over the years as a reliable and discreet partner, appreciated by the most discerning classic car collectors. Alex von Mózer, MsC, is often present at major international events dedicated to classic automobiles, where he continues to share his passion and expertise.

For over forty years, this was the man who developed - and personally drove - the Ferrari prototypes that went on to become the Prancing Horse’s most iconic models. The story of Ferrari’s historical chief test driver, with some legendary characters, road and racing cars, special series and some unique vehicles, also with an eye on the Formula 1 single-seaters Words Alessandro Giudice Photography Alessandro Barteletti Video Andrea Ruggeri Archive Courtesy of Dario Benuzzi and Ferrari Archives The colour red is very much at home in Vignola. In early summer, the pale pink of the cherry blossom painting the orchards surrounding the town for miles is replaced by the bright red of the Mora cherry, which crown's Vignola’s European reputation for its high-quality fruit crops. Yet despite his family’s farming origins and working the land, it was another shade of red that charmed the young Dario Benuzzi: that of the Ferraris that shot through town every day, before climbing up into the Apennine hills along the route that the “Cavallino” test drivers used to test the Gran Turismo cars. The young man’s career was, at least at first, also a bit of an uphill climb, that classic apprenticeship that started with the decision to leave the fields and the family tradition in a place where agriculture is sacred, to work in a small local workshop training as a mechanic. Not just cars, but also motorbikes, trucks and a few tractors. And then, the turning point: a friend started to work as a test driver at Ferrari, they spent their evenings together talking about engines, until one day fate winked an eye at the plane and the Panaro River, and this was his chance. Not to be missed, because precisely in Maranello they were looking for young new test drivers, and Dario Benuzzi (who got his “D” licence during his military service, on the icy bends around the barracks in Pontebba, Friuli, between Austria and Slovenia) applied. This was the start of the most extraordinary, incredible, thrilling and engaging forty-seven years that a 25-year-old from Vignola could hope for. “Just to say, training us to drive to a certain level, during the course we practised in some serious cars, a Dino 246 and a Daytona.” Curiously, Benuzzi uses the male “il” pronoun to talk about the Ferraris, and not the female “she” that is usually used when talking about cars. [click to watch the video] The selection was tough, and the trainer Roberto Lippi, who had a weak spot for racing, and even took a Ferrari 275 GTB on the snow-covered roads of the 1966 Monte-Carlo Rally, chose a couple of the would-be test drivers: one was Benuzzi, the only one of the two who could drive the Daytona sideways round the big bend at the Modena Aerautodromo, which was still open in 1971. “The first two years were spent mostly focusing on duration, at least 5-600 kilometres a day and perhaps even more, from early morning to late at night, testing the cars for the US market. When we weren’t driving, we spent time in the workshop, working on the engine carburation, and in the test room.” For Dario, working in the ‘Esperienze’ department, everything revolved around Giorgio Enrico, chief test driver, the man who decided who did what. In this situation, Benuzzi made his mark: for his professionalism and dedication, of course, but especially for his innate driving sensitivity, which allowed him to sense even the slightest sign of a malfunction, even suggesting potential solutions to the engineers. When Enrico’s health began to prevent him from personally testing the cars, Benuzzi was called in by the management and moved from the “duration” tasks to “development”, putting him in charge of a new model. The project that crowned his new role at Ferrari was for the Testarossa, directed by the engineer Stefano Govoni.  “At that point, my whole world changed. I had to decide if an engine, a gearbox, a set-up was right for that type of car or if they had to be changed.” They started from the “mulotipo” - a curious blend of the word “muletto”, used by the drivers to define a car on which solutions are tested, and “prototipo” - prototype, and then created the actual prototype, the most advanced version of the car under development. Model by model, in an average of three years, this process led to the much-hoped-for “approval”, the final thumbs up from the test driver to the company so that serial production could begin. A huge responsibility… “Certainly, but also a very thrilling process. When you got to the end you wanted to start all over again, especially with some of the more particular models.” Like the 288 GTO, which followed on from the Testarossa. Initially designed to take Ferrari back into the Group B competitions, it was developed by the engineers in the GES (acronym of Gestione Sportiva, sporting management, the racing department in Maranello), and Dario was always in pole position for the tests. “It was a beautiful car, only visually related to the 308. It has a 400 HP engine, supercharged with two turbos and an intercooler and had some great but at times surprising thrust, it was a car to be driven with great attention.” And then came the F40. “After the GTO, we didn't think we could do anything more, and yet this project came along and we all fell in love with it. I think it is the car that I had most fun working on in my whole career. Not the best performing, but certainly the truest: a prototype style, no electronics, twin-turbo, light and powerful. It’s the Ferrari that, if I could, I would have in the garage.” Back then some people called him “prof” (professor), because all it took him was a quick drive round to understand what was wrong, but it wasn't always hunky dory. The historic entrance to Ferrari at Via Abetone Inferiore 4 in Maranello, which has remained virtually unchanged since its origins; BELOW Dario Benuzzi “at work”, exiting the sweeping corner of the Fiorano track with smoking tires, of course behind the wheel of a Ferrari: the F40 was the car he felt most attached to. “For the F40, for example, I wanted the brake to be harder than normal, so you needed a pressure of 50 kg and not the usual 30. This was to prevent the driver, reacting quickly in an emergency situation, from blocking the wheels and consequently swerving. A choice that apparently went against driving comfort, but was necessary for a car packed with power but without a vacuum servo or ABS, or even power steering.” A delicate topic, this, as Benuzzi, being on the side of those who had to put powerful cars on the market, personally experienced the transition from analogue to electronic, passing through some of the major mechanical facilitations. “Like the hydraulic steering (Benuzzi never calls it power steering…) which marked a major turning point, for Ferrari and for all high-performance cars.” And not only those, we might say. “Sure, but in terms of speed, precision and sensitivity, the driveability hydraulic steering adds to super-sports cars can’t be compared to the advantages it offers normal cars.” Prior to electronics, which help, prevent and correct, everything was in the hands of the driver.   What is the secret for approving the perfect car? “You have to start from the assumption that the car isn’t built around you personally and your skills and habits, but must be suited to everyone. So if you're not sensitive enough to understand this, you’re in the wrong job. And then you need driving skill. When you take out a prototype car, you never know how it will behave and you need not the cunning but the intelligence to not overdo things, always calculating what could happen. Over the years I’ve seen a lot of things happen, even on approved cars. There’s always even a minimal warning that something’s not right, and you have to be able to capture that.” The Fiorano track, an operational hub of excellence for drivers, testers, and technicians at Ferrari; BELOW After the F40, Benuzzi continued developing several special limited-edition models, such as the 660 hp Enzo, produced from 2002 to 2004 in just 399 units to celebrate the 55th anniversary of the Prancing Horse. This was preceded in the 1995-1997 period by the 349 units of the 520 hp F50 (pictured on the far right), which marked the company's 50th anniversary. Like the time when, in Fiorano, out on a demonstration run with a Chinese journalist, he felt something rough in the brakes and, two laps later, one of the front carbon discs exploded: “I was doing 230 km/hour, and the car skidded, I managed to hold her and get to the gravel on the side of the track. I looked at my passenger, who was clapping in delight. He had really enjoyed it, far more than I did.” Electronics didn't change the testing methods. Every car is approved in “Race” mode, so without the interference of the electronic controls, the ABS or ASR: “The car must be perfect on its own without any electronic assistance, as this cuts in only when drivers find themselves in trouble on normal roads and choose to enable it.” For Benuzzi, the work was always very hard going. Three or four models were developed at any one time, in addition to special cars, as happened with the F50, Enzo and LaFerrari, as well as racing cars, like the F40 LeMans and the 333 SP, with their ventures into the F1 world: “I always tested the single-seaters before they set off for a Grand Prix, a final check to make sure everything was OK.” Benuzzi explains, and adds: “The Formula 1 is a perfect car: it brakes more and quicker than you expect, and its road holding and power are extraordinary. And what is great is that when you stop, there are twenty people all over you asking what’s wrong, and in just a few minutes they make the changes and you’re off again checking them. Fantastic! Drivers don't only need the ‘physique du role’, they also have to have quick reactions and clear-headedness. I remember I was a mess after ten laps in Fiorano, my neck hurt because of the G force that pushed my head outwards on every bend: it was such an effort keeping it straight!” In addition to the control tests, for the F1 Benuzzi also developed the electro-actuated gearbox, which was an innovation for the time but not something the drivers were happy with. “One day, Piero Ferrari called me and told me that I had to test something very secret. He made me do a few laps in a single-seater with a manual gearbox, and immediately afterwards as many again in one with an electro-actuated gearbox. Aside from the initial difficulties in developing the mechanism, I really liked this system straight away: changing gear without having to take your hands off the wheel and holding it firmly made everything much quicker and more effective, as well as much safer.” Sitting in the living room of his home, Benuzzi flips through the photos that tell the story of his career; BELOW Dario Benuzzi's career was defined by significant relationships, both personal and professional. With Piero Ferrari (left), with whom he shared a passion for cars and mechanics, and with Michael Schumacher (right), during a driving session at Mugello with engineer Petrotta and the yellow Enzo from the Experience Department A life spent working with some of the world’s most beautiful and exclusive cars meant that Dario Benuzzi had to deal with some very extraordinary characters, including the chairmen who over time held the reins of the Prancing Horse. According to him, they all had one thing in common: a heavy foot, i.e., the tendency to drive very fast. Starting from Enzo Ferrari, of whom Benuzzi was particularly in awe. “One day I got a call from Dino Tagliazzucchi, his historical chauffeur, who asked me to drop into the office in Fiorano because the Commendatore wanted to speak to me. I went in all worried, thinking that I had done something wrong, but he said that the brakes on his grey Ferrari 412 were hissing: ‘I already have to put up with the hissing fans because we're not winning the Formula 1, at least help me get rid of these hissing brakes!” I did the job, took the car back and, to my surprise, Ferrari wanted to do a lap round the track to check that everything was OK. He was already 87 years old, he got in and set off. When he screeched to the end of the straight, I didn't think he would make it. He hit the bend, braking at the last second, then accelerated out and along the track. At the end, he said: ‘Good job, they don't hiss anymore’, then he called Dino and had the 412 put in the garage. He never used it again.” Benuzzi always appreciated Luca di Montezemolo’s enthusiasm and managerial skill. “He literally changed Ferrari in terms of development, prototypes and the working environment. He was one of those who said ‘Benuzzi said so’ and this became the official approval for any change.” And did he have a heavy foot? “If I had to go out with him the next day, I always had a sleepless night. He was fast, nothing ever happened, but for me, sitting next to someone who drives fast has always been a problem.” Benuzzi also has a fond memory of Sergio Marchionne, underlined by that touch of sadness because of his unexpected and premature death. “He was a gentleman. I remember one weekend he had booked the track in Fiorano for a meeting with the managers of the American group. I sent 2-3 cars with the test drivers, and during the coffee breaks he had the guests do a few laps. On the Saturday morning, his secretary called me and asked me why I wasn't on the track. ‘Because nobody told me to be there’, I replied. ‘Mr Marchionne needs you - she said - are you available?’ I tell her no, I have a prior engagement with my wife, but if he wanted, I could be there the next day, on Sunday. ‘That could be tough, tomorrow morning he has a meeting at 7 and is leaving for Detroit straight afterwards, but I’ll ask’. She came back to the phone and told me, OK, he would be waiting for me on the track the next day at 9. I went in the next morning, he apologised for forcing me to work on a Sunday, and then had me on the track with a manager he had promised the thrill of driving round Fiorano with me to. ‘Show him how you drive’, then he got in the helicopter and left”. A double corner along the road frequently used by testers, leading from Maranello to Serramazzoni, in the province of Modena. Benuzzi behind the wheel of a Formula 1 car. For the Team, Dario was responsible for the development of the electro-actuated gearbox and also tested the cars before each World Championship race. Another fundamental character for Ferrari was Amedeo Felisa, the engineer who graduated from Milan Polytechnic, who worked in Maranello for 26 years, as Technical Director, then General Director and finally as CEO. He was first and foremost a huge fan, and sometimes would drive for miles in the cars being developed, just for his own personal and professional pleasure. Benuzzi worked with him practically all the time. “He called me Ben, he would phone me and say: ‘Come down here to the machine and buy me a coffee, and there we would talk about cars, he would ask me about the problems, we would discuss possible solutions. On a couple of occasions, he would shout down the technical department, to get things done that I had suggested and that hadn’t been done. He was another one who said ‘Benuzzi said so’.”   And while the Ferrari top management all more or less put their efforts and their personality into developing a globally recognised image of dream-car legends, legendary enterprises and champions at the wheel, some of the people in Benuzzi's story had some other roles that were in any case profoundly linked to the company and his work. Such as Piero Ferrari and Franco Gozzi. The Commendatore's son always had a thoughtful attitude and respected people's roles, and over time this brought him charisma and respect, beyond his important name. “A very nice person, polite and competent. He drove very well and was able to understand the car instantly. When I asked him to try a car, he was always very willing and happy to do so. We would head up towards Serramazzoni, and we exchanged opinions on the driving performance and dynamics. I remember at the time he drove a green 308 GT4, a Bertone”. Franco Gozzi was a real character, a highly skilled communicator, Enzo Ferrari's undisputed right-hand man and a key figure in public relations. He would involve Benuzzi in a range of institutional situations, from presentations to the press to meetings with customers, from making videos and brochures of the models to taking VIP guests out on the track. “Gozzi was an incredible person, he could solve any problem. There are many anecdotes about him. For instance, once we took a car to Montefiorino castle, near Modena, for an institutional photo shoot. The photographer wanted to take the car inside the castle, but it was slightly wider than the main entrance door, perhaps just a centimetre. So he asked the photographer which side of the car he wanted to photograph, and he said: “The right.” And he made me squeeze through, sacrificing the left-hand side of the car, which we had repaired later. When he wanted something, he would stop at nothing and nobody. Except for Enzo Ferrari, of course!” Benuzzi met so many famous people that he has trouble thinking of special encounters. He mentions Lucio Dalla - “I often saw him on the Via Emilia, between Modena and Bologna, with his red Gloria, a 48-cc moped. Then Montezemolo brought him to the track and I took him for a spin in the F40” -, Eric Clapton - “when I asked for tickets to one of his concerts for Roberto Fedeli, who was head of the GT Ferrari and also a musician, at the end of the performance he gave him his guitar” - and the astronaut Samantha Cristoforetti - “she wrote me a lovely letter after I took her out on the track. She said that even though she piloted jets, when you fly it feels like you are still, but in a Ferrari you can really feel the speed.” The statue of the Prancing Horse in the center of Maranello, at the intersection of Via Claudia and Via Giardini: standing 3 meters tall, it was crafted from sheet metal by artists Fabrizio Magnani and Alberto Poggioli; BELOW When a famous personality visited Ferrari (left, Italian singer-songwriter Lucio Dalla), Benuzzi's task was to offer them the thrill of a few laps on the track. He also assisted with testing sessions, as he did with multiple MotoGP World Champion Valentino Rossi (pictured on the right), who also tested a F1 car at Fiorano. Another funny anecdote concerns Gozzi and a special visit. “He told me to get ready, because I had to take a beautiful woman out on the track. A black limousine with Bologna plates turned up and out got Bo Derek, accompanied by a beautiful young girl wearing a very light floral dress. They were testing the Formula 1, and the mechanics all started to comment on the guests in local dialect: ‘I prefer that one, I the other, I would do that, I would do the other’, and so on. Gozzi left them to it as he explained the single-seater to Bo Derek, while the other girl watched on, smiling. Only when they were leaving at the end, Gozzi took the girl by the arm and led her to the wall in front of the pits where the mechanics were working on the car, and in dialect said: ‘Stop a minute, I forgot to tell you something: this young lady is not American, she’s from Bologna, and she perfectly understands ‘Modenese’ and everything you said!’ That's how Gozzi was, he always played the situation down, he had a wonderful spirit.”   Before we finish our chat, please explain one thing: what were the other cars on the market like, the ones you exchanged with the other manufacturers or the ones the “Competition Analysis” department bought with its own budget? “Everyone did a good job. Some were excellent on the track but then maybe out on the road, at the first dip they would jump, the rear would lose its grip and spin out. In the end, I’m sorry to say because I sound like an advert, but there is no one else like Ferrari.” Always frank and precise, this is Dario Benuzzi, with his actor’s face, deep gaze and the awareness of having turned a passion into an extraordinary career. After millions of miles behind the wheel of some of the world’s most beautiful cars, he’s enjoying a life travelling with his beloved Miriam. Do you miss your previous life a little? “There is a time for everything, even though sometimes I have doubts. For example, when I’m driving with my wife sitting next to me and she says ‘watch out there, go that way, take care the road’s wet’. So I get in my Giulia Q4 Turbo and take a drive out in the hills by myself. When I get home, I say, ‘OK, I still know how to drive’.”

From Dafs to Ferraris, passing through microcars and futuristic prototypes: his pencil moved in all the car fields you can possibly imagine, with unmatched creative flair. He drew so many cars that still today it’s impossible to draw up a detailed list of them all, as many of his designs were not signed. His son Edgardo has been trying to put some order into the huge heritage of his father’s works since 1989, firstly by setting up a Historical Register and then creating an archive, which however is still incomplete. Out of the around 30,000 drawings Giovanni Michelotti is thought to have done in over 30 years of activity, he has kept and catalogued almost six thousand. For now Words & Photography Gilberto Milano Archive Courtesy of Archivio Storico Michelotti Giovanni Michelotti in the 1950s at his desk in the company. “He drew, drew, drew, all the time. Day and night. Ultimately, I don't think my father ever actually worked, I think he just really enjoyed drawing cars.” These are the words of Edgardo Michelotti, Giovanni’s seventy-one-year-old son, who opened the doors to his father’s precious archives kept in a former workshop just outside the centre of Turin. Edgardo was completing a degree in architecture when Giovanni died in January 1980, and since then his son has been trying to assure the fair recognition of his father’s work by saving as much of it as possible. The story of Giovanni Michelotti is indeed unique in the history of car design, in Italy and beyond. No other stylist whose genius has illuminated this sector thus far can boast such a broad and varied production of designs as those created by Giovanni Michelotti from 1949 onwards, until his premature death aged 58. Yet at the same time, nobody has ever suffered the kind of “oblivion” that has afflicted the work of this humble and prolific car creator. Still today he is unknown to most people and little celebrated compared to other legends who have – rightly so – been awarded with prizes and honorary degrees. How can a stylist who, in his short career, drew over one thousand cars, working with all the coachbuilders in Turin (aside from one), the only person to hold the record of 40 cars on show at a motor show (Turin 1954, most of which undeclared) still be considered a minor stylist? 1962 Triumph Conrero TRS “set” on the Le Mans track. 1952 Triumph Italia. Michelotti drew many Triumphs, and his work contributed to the international success of the British brand. There are many reasons. Michelotti was first and foremost a great car enthusiast, and then a businessman. “I’m not a good speaker, but if they make me draw I’m happy to do so,” he said, talking about his work at an Italian Coachbuilding conference in 1978. “For me, what counts in a car is style, and style is also what brings it all together for sales. The stylist’s task is a very delicate one. They have to dress up a car, and a car is always made of four wheels, a steering wheel and an engine. You have to know what goes round these parts to create a car that must be acceptable to the general public, the retailers and the technicians.” And he went round these parts a lot. “He never said no to anyone, and never pulled out when faced with difficulties. And yet he only ever put his name on a design when the client said he could. And above all, he never had anyone to promote his image, a “service” that other coachbuilders had,” his son Edgardo explains. It’s impossible to say how many cars Michelotti actually designed. Edgardo reckons around 1,200-1,300 cars that were actually produced and many others that weren't, perhaps around 30,000 drawings and designs. Quite an incredible number. Edgardo Michelotti in the archive that contains thousands of his father’s drawings. “Dad was very prolific, but also incredibly fast. In one night, with a sandwich, some good wine, a pack of cigarettes and the radio blasting, he could produce a 1:1 scale drawing of a new model, showing all the measurements and details, ready to be made,” Edgardo recalls. “Apparently he made a thousand models from the early Fifties to 1961. For Vignale alone he drew 311 cars, of which 150 Ferraris, which all went into production. He didn’t feel the need to sign off on them all, he loved his work: he was paid just for the design, and even then not much. Perhaps even just the full-size drawing.” Zanellato Archive - 1949 rendering for the production of a Ferrari Spyder Super Sport, which was never built. The egg-shaped frame with a square grille appears for the first time, later to become a distinguishing feature of the 1950s’ Ferraris. Design for the OSCA 1500 Coupé. The car was presented at the 1961 Geneva Motor Show. It was the first car to use the “pagoda-style roof”, one of Michelotti’s inventions. Michelotti began drawing at a young age, seven or eight years old, passing the time he spent in bed – six months – suffering from a chronic inflammatory disease affecting both hip joints, bilateral coxarthrosis. At the time, the only cure was quinine and absolute rest. That was when he realised he could draw. He drew everything. And this disease revealed a talent. His father gave him the idea of cars, when he saw that a coachbuilder was looking for an apprentice. Not just any old coachbuilder, but Stabilimenti Farina, the largest coachbuilder in Turin. It was run by Giovanni Farina and his two sons: Nino, a future Formula 1 world champion with Alfa Romeo in 1950, and Attilio (Giovanni Battista was Giovanni’s younger brother, who set up Pininfarina). Rendering of the Démon Rouge, the model built in 1954 on a Fiat 8V chassis, perhaps the most famous concept car designed by Michelotti. To appreciate its “overwhelming beauty” and the amazing stylistic boldness, we should always consider the historical period in which it was presented. Study of the Maserati A6G 2000 Gran Turismo built by Allemano (1955). Michelotti was 16 when he was hired. At first he worked under Pietro Frua, a style manager with a tough character. Indeed, Frua was sacked on the spot after an argument with Attilio, and Giovanni Michelotti took his place. He was just 17. And that was when he began to surprise everyone with his creativity. Michelotti stayed at Stabilimenti Farina until 1949, when he opened the first professional car design firm in Italy. A powerhouse of ideas, he drew everything: in particular, small Fiats and Abarths, as well as microcars, beach cars, sports cars, super sports cars (the two Ferraris that won the Mille Miglia in 1951 and 1952 were his), advertising vehicles, buses, tractors, motorboats, scooters and dream prototypes. He worked for many famous coachbuilders, including Allemano, Balbo, Bertone, Vignale, Ghia and Moretti. But never for Pininfarina. “I suppose he had some kind of verbal commitment with Attilio to never work for Pinin,” Edgardo imagines. Two of the many 1962 renderings created to study the four-headlight front of the new BMW 1800/2000. Michelotti’s contribution to the Bavarian car manufacturer's new image was significant. Rendering from the late 1960s for the study of the new BMW 1600 Coupé. Although his cars become famous worldwide, little is known of him. Indeed, very few people know that he was the man behind the most original Ferraris of the early Fifties, all the Vignale cars, especially the Ferraris, like the beautiful Vignale Barchetta 166 and 212 Spider, as well as the 1952 Ferrari Berlinetta 340 Mexico Tuboscocca Vignale. Or the 1953 Maserati A6 GCS Spider Vignale; the 1953 Fiat 8V Vignale and 8V Siata; the 1953 Cunningham C3, considered “one of the ten most beautiful contemporary cars”; the Renault Alpine built by Allemano in 1954 based on one of his drawings. And also, the spectacular Demon Rouge built on a Fiat 8V chassis in 1955, the first to use a hidden handle in the door pillar; the 1958 Lotus Eleven Ghia Eagle; the futuristic Lancia Nardi Raggio Azzurro of 1955 and 1958; the 1961 Giulietta SV Conrero Goccia and many others besides. In 1958 he was the first Italian designer to work with the Japanese (Hino Contessa) and in 1959 his first BMW and Triumph creations, further developed in the ‘60s, were produced. The lines were completely different even though they were all designed by the same person in the same period. study of the Abarth 850 Scorpione built by Carrozzeria Allemano. Michelotti did these drawings in just a few minutes (1959). Edgardo Michelotti mimes his father’s use of these French curves to draw the design of an Aston Martin DB3 for Vignale in 1953. The French curves Giovanni Michelotti used to produce his drawings. Every stylist has their own: they are the fingerprints of their style. Among his many stylistic innovations, we may recall the 1960 “pagoda-style roof”, which added greater side visibility (the sides are higher in the centre) on a more compact car. This solution was later adopted by Mercedes for the 230 SL and Lancia for the Fulvia HF. Or the egg-shaped frame with a square grille, which became a style feature of Ferraris in the 1950s. “He had clear ideas, when he drew he rarely rubbed anything out and corrected it. Sometimes he didn't even do the 1:10 scale drawings. He didn't do any sketches, he just started creating the car he had in mind in scale 1:1,” Edgardo states. “His speciality was three-quarter views, which were the most spectacular and effective for impressing the clients, and these took him just a few minutes. He was also a maniac for safety, and his technical and marketing background allowed him to understand the needs of the clientele according to their origin: French, English, German, Japanese. He thought of everything in advance, and delivered projects that were 90% feasible.” Design for the 1955 Bugatti Tipo 252 Gran Sport. Study of a 2+2 coupé on a Cadillac chassis for Vignale in 1956. Design for the 1959 Cisitalia 750 Spider. “He had learned that aerodynamics is important in the first two thirds of the car, safety is fundamental for the people in the centre and once you get to the back you can concentrate on saving weight,” the journalist Gianni Rogliatti said of him in 1964. Of his production in the 1970s, we should remember the Matra Laser (1971) with its wedge-shaped profile; the Fiat 128 Pulsar (1972), the world’s first car to adopt impact-absorbing polyurethane bumpers; the Ferrari 365 GTB/4 Nart commissioned by Luigi Chinetti in 1978, with a far more streamlined front than the Pininfarina Daytona; the Lancia Mizar, still today the only car built with four gull-wing doors, and the BMW 2002 Turbo, all between 1972 and 1974. “He was a man of contradictions: a classically trained designer who became an iconoclastic stylist, a great car communicator in the sense of the poetic metaphor of escapism. But when appropriate, he was perfectly able to work with more restrained models. This is demonstrated by the Triumph TR4 and Spitfire spiders, evergreen forms of majestic simplicity,” the car historian Angelo Tito Anselmi wrote. Design of the DAF Siluro. The top view highlights the wedge shape. The Siluro was presented at the 1967 Geneva Motor Show. 1975 study of the Ferrari 365 GTB/4 commissioned by Luigi Chinetti’s NART. Pininfarina built the Daytona Spider on the same chassis. Edgardo took over the company when he was just 26, with little experience. He studied architecture, and in the company he was just one of the draughtsmen, an employee like all the others. With twenty or so staff, draughtsmen and workers, he continued until 1991 when he was forced to surrender to the new reality of the car manufacturers’ in-house style centres. “Other coachbuilders had closed, and the atmosphere in Turin had already become tainted. I was 39 years old. We just closed it down, we weren’t even bankrupt,” Edgardo recalls. And the closure was also fatal for setting up the archive. During the final move, many of the drawings that had been kept in the company were stolen overnight. “The person who took them later said they did it to stop them from being destroyed. But then they gave them to collectors or sold them at international auctions,” Edgardo states. “Many of those drawings were certainly the ones of the Triumphs, because I have very few of the Triumph Spitfire, the TR4. The Victoria and Albert Museum bought a lot of them and luckily they at least gave me some high-definition digital copies. I’m still missing a lot of the ones done for the Turin coachbuilders, though I think I have all of the ones for Moretti. And I have lots of the Ghia Aigle ones.” Giovanni Michelotti in the early years of his career as a freelance stylist. The study was set up in one of the two rooms of his home in Turin (the other was the bedroom). To the right, his son Edgardo, today the curator of his father’s Archive. Edgardo has no idea of how many drawings his father did throughout his career. “I have six thousand of them, but I reckon there are between 25 and 30 thousand drawings. Perhaps even more". "Of course, he didn't take away the ones he did when he was at Stabilimenti Farina, and I guess they’ve all been thrown away. That’s what they did at the time. Vignale threw loads of material away, and so did Balbo and Ghia. When they didn't need the drawings any more, they burned them: nobody thought of saving them for posterity at the time. But I think my archive contains the world’s most varied collection of my father’s work. He worked all the time, doing research and designing new things. Some of them were later literally copied by other designers, as Piero Castagnero did at Lancia, he stole some ideas from the Osca 1600, presented in Geneva in 1959, and he made the Fulvia HF, with the pagoda-style roof that was criticised at the time. My archive contains some patents and some contracts he signed with BMW, Triumph, with Siata. And I’ve got tons of correspondence. I think we can say that it’s possible to reconstruct a significant part of motoring history, from the 1950s to the ‘70s.” SpeedHolics would like to thank the Archivio Storico Michelotti for allowing us to publish the drawings illustrating this article - http://www.archiviostoricomichelotti.it/ -- Gilberto Milano , class of 1949, professional journalist, began writing about economics and industry and later turned to motoring. Especially historical motoring, specialising in the investigation of all aspects of collecting. He has written for all major Italian magazines. This is his first article for SpeedHolics.