Someone named James Cannon at something called Rush Experts recently posted an essay on the world's most beautiful cars. Even though he claims expertise he got the photos wrong. First off, he showed us a Series 2 E-Type Jaguar roadster, the one with the under-bumper tail lights that look like something from J.C. Whitney. Then he compounded that error by claiming to show us a Series 1 E-Type coupe, but gave us a shot of a 2+2, with its high roof & long wheelbase, and compounded his mistake by choosing an early 2+2 with its too-vertical windshield. For the sake of correcting the record, above and below are shots of the Series 1 E-Type as designer Malcolm Sayer wanted us to see it...
Mr. Cannon praised Jaguar's XK-SS without noting that it was just a road version of the D-Type racer, here shown without the bumpers and full-width windscreen added for road use on the XK-SS, and with that famous stabilizing fin the XK-SS lacked.
Not bad for something that appeared in 1954, a good seven years before the E-Type. With 4-wheel disc brakes too. Our experts could have noted the similarities between D and E, including the oval shapes repeated in plan, section and elevation, in the air intake and even in the shapes of the wheel cutouts. This seems an almost hypnotic display of reinforcing an overall form with attention to detail.
Our experts at Rush Experts wanted to tell us how much they admired almost 3 dozen cars for their beauty, but seemed to be in too much of a rush to tell us why. Ferrari's GTO (Giotto Bizzarrini's design) apparently grabbed their attention because of its long hood and vents...
But several production model Ferraris like the GTB below have long hoods and vents too, here with arguably a better integration of window shapes into that sloping roof. The GTO has the unsentimental directness of a racer, though, and gets more publicity when one sells for eight figures at an auction...
We're glad we ditched the idea of writing about the Best Car Designs Ever (which might've required including virtues like durability and practicality) and just decided to concentrate on beauty like Mr. Cannon did. That way, we get to include cars he somehow passed by, like the Lotus Eleven from 1956, one of the last great front-engined sports racers, relying on Frank Costin's aerodynamics and Colin Chapman's lightweight tubular chassis to stave off the mid-engined revolution already happening at Cooper and Porsche.
We can also include the Lotus Elite from 1957, designed by Chapman's accountant Peter Kirwan-Taylor and refined by Frank Costin. The first car with a fiberglass unit body / chassis, reinforced here and there with steel, but maybe not quite enough...
The Type 14 Elite is another example of using details in ways that reinforce the overall form, like the side windows curving in plan to match the plan shape of the roof. No, the side windows don't roll down; you add ventilation by removing them and stowing them in protective envelopes. This shot shows the rear suspension towers that created high noise levels inside, and also what may be the first use of a flat, recessed tail panel for lights and number plate.
The experts admired the proportions of Marcello Gandini's Lamborghini Miura from a decade later, and mentioned the V12 power plant, but didn't get around to telling us the reason for those proportions. The reason the Miura looks so balanced (at a distance, it's hard to guess where the engine might be) is that the V12 engine is mounted transversely behind the cabin and between the rear wheels. It was an almost-masterstroke of integrating mechanical with visual design.
Why an almost masterstroke? Because the Miura shared its crankcase oil with the transverse-mounted transmission, which happened to be a feature of the BMC Mini, a car that inspired it (well, from a mechanical concept standpoint anyway). In the rear view, the louvers give a clue to the engine location. Transmission oil was finally separated from engine oil on the last 96 or 98 cars, depending on whom you ask.
The photo below shows how the Miura opened up to allow access to the front-mounted radiator, and to that V12 behind the cabin, with luggage space behind the engine.
The colorful design riot went on inside the Miura as well, with Gandini avoiding the usual flat instrument panel, maybe in an attempt to keep up with (or distract driver and passenger from) the noise from Gianpaolo Dallara's mid-mounted 4-cam V12 engine, which had been designed by Giotto Bizzarrini. We mentioned him before, right?
Those experts failed to mention the shatteringly beautiful De Tomaso Mangusta that emerged in production the same year (1967) as the first Miura, so we will. Giorgetto Giugiaro's body design signaled the mid-mounted engine location with larger rear tires than at the front, and vents behind the rear side windows, with lots of "tumble-home" in the cabin section above a crease connecting front and rear wheel arches, and inward slope to the body section below it, emphasizing the wheels and tires. A Ford V8 sat behind the cabin and ahead of the transaxle.
Ghia and Giugiaro wisely declined the temptation of front bumpers; the form stands out better that way (until someone backs into it). None of the wedge-themed car designs that followed this one improved on its proportions or contours...
The experts suggested the BMW 2002 from the late Sixties was one of the world's most beautiful cars. Hmm, I loved the sharp handling and reliability of mine, but thought the body design was a Corvair knock-off. The Rush people liked the Turbo version from the early 70s best, but that may be a case of mistaking forward rush for beauty...
The experts scored better with their choice of BMW's M1, a Giugiaro design from 1978. A more practical car than his Mangusta, but as we're talking beauty here the mid-engined, transverse inline six BMW bodied by Ital Design doesn't get the masterwork rating we'd give the Mangusta. There are details aplenty, like the side vents, rear louvers, and flat, half-hearted version of the BMW twin kidney grille at the front, but they don't work together to emphasize the form with the same spare clarity as on the Mangusta.
No, if there's a BMW entry in the Most Beautiful lineup, for our money it's Albrecht Goertz's design for the BMW 507 roadster, produced from 1956 through '59. Here details like the raised ridges extending past the wheel arches, and over the front fender vents, manage to emphasize the car's pared-down, sleek form. The BMW roundel fits into the curve of the fender vents. The detachable hardtop looks a part of the body shape rather than an add-on.
The old twin-kidney grille received a rework by Goertz; it's now low in profile and vee-shaped in plan, a shape repeated in the shallow air intake atop the hood. The flanks of the car turn inward below the speed lines topping the wheel arches, allowing the tires to protrude a bit beyond the flanks at the rocker panels.
BMW only managed to build 252 or 253 of this model before production ended; the alloy-bodied roadsters were expensive to make. That means there are around 200 fewer of the 507 than of the M1. A good place to end today's critical (okay, slightly grumpy) review. In Part 2 we'll look at American designs, earlier Fifties designs, and designs from the interwar period.
Photo Credits:
Top & 2nd from top: Jaguar Cars
All other photos are by the author.
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