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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.

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.

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’.”

An “unidentified object” on wheels that aroused curiosity and speculation, leading both journalists and the public to come up with stories bordering on science fiction. A skilful marketing trick by the Portello-based company, in partnership with Carrozzeria Touring, that led to a very unique car, and we will tell you all about it through another very special encounter. Words Fabio Morlacchi Photography Paolo Carlini Archive Courtesy of Alfa Blue Team, Sanesi Family, Fabio Morlacchi Archives Introduction Looking back at the story told by SpeedHolics of the Alfetta 158 on show at MAUTO - National Automobile Museum in Turin, “Alfa Romeo 158: the 159.109, a Milanese in Turin” (see the Yearbook 2023) , at the end of the long interview directly with “her”, the 159.109 pointed out another racing car further back in the half-dark hall, another Alfa Romeo that she often chatted to when things were quiet. And looking in the direction she indicated, I thought I saw a faint flash. The Disco Volante 3000 during a practice session in the winter 1952. The single windscreen was replaced by a longer one. As I believe that some cars communicate with us, I went back to the MAUTO a second time to hear the story of that other car, the C.52 Disco Volante 3000. And here I am again, in that large, half-dark hall. And once again, I see that faint flash coming from the Carello headlamps ... Disco Volante - “I haven’t had a busy life, in the sporting spotlight like the 159.109 over there, and I’m not used to talking. Please let her do it for me. But remember, there’s something that has annoyed me for a very long time, like a stone stuck in the tyre treads. My engine isn't the CM.3000 3500, but the previous 3000 developed by Giuseppe Busso! I don't know why, but after the first edition of the Museum catalogue, they always wrote that I had a 3500!” So here I am, tasked once again with telling you a story. A Fiat CR.32 formation in the late 1930s. The fighter plane had a Fiat A.30 RA Bis engine, a 24-litre V12 600 HP, designed by the engineer Tranquillo Zerbi. Perhaps the aliens were watching from above The story Monday 22 August 1936, in the sky between Venice and Mestre. Two pilots and their Fiat CR.32 biplane fighters took off from a Royal Italian Air Force airbase nearby, hit the throttle hard on the Fiat A.30 RA Bis 600 HP engines and managed to tail, for a short time, a metallic flying saucer with a diameter of between 10 and 12 metres, before it disappeared from view at high speed. The alarm was given across the skies of North-Eastern Italy. Benito Mussolini was promptly informed of the event:  “Are they armed? Are they friends?” “Duce, perhaps they are English!” “What did the pilots see?” “A Saturn-like, disc-shaped aircraft that gave off a regularly flashing bright orange-white light, with smoke and sparks.” “Deny, deny any version you hear! Put it all down to an optical effect.”  With its developments monitored by Mussolini in person, this was the first sighting of a flying saucer documented by the military in Italy, and many others would follow. The facts became known after the war.  On 24 June 1947, the US businessman Kenneth Arnold was flying his plane when he saw a formation of large flying saucers over Mount Rainer, near Seattle. This was when the term “flying saucer” was first coined and became immediately popular. In an incident a few days later, on 8 July, in Roswell, New Mexico, an alien flying saucer crashed to the ground in the desert and was recovered by the US Air Force. In 1952, the same United States Air Force coined the term UFO, Unidentified Flying Object, to define these unknown objects. In the popular imagination, we continue to talk of flying saucers – or “disco volante”, in Italian. There were many “sightings” after the war, arousing both curiosity and apprehension among the people, not without a strong attraction to those alien ships about which nothing technical was known, except that they were able to chase off even our most modern planes. But did people really see them? Were they Martians? At the time the popular belief was that the aliens came from the nearby red planet … Alfa Red?  But there’s more: in spring 1952, some flying saucers were seen in the sky above Milan. And, in early May of the same year, Alfa Romeo announced the presentation of a new Sport category car in Monza. This was quite unusual; this type of car was never presented officially to the press and was usually kept under wraps until just before the race. This is the first oddity. Between late May and early June, the journalists and curious onlookers at the Autodromo saw a red flying saucer. It went really fast, but had 4 wheels and some of the people there swore that they saw not an alien, with green skin, a trumpet-shaped nose and pointed ears at the wheel, but Consalvo Sanesi, Alfa Romeo's chief test driver and an able F1 driver.  Sanesi entered the track driving the new C52 Disco Volante spider with a 3000-cc straight-6 engine, the first version to be ready and tested. The Alfa Romeo Chairman Pasquale Gallo was also present. Gioachino Colombo, the car designer, standing near the entrance gate, shouted some final advice to the driver above the roaring engine and the “music” that came out of the poorly-silenced short twin exhausts. Sanesi put his foot down hard, accelerating along the straight in front of the stands and into the short circuit, causing the Disco Volante to skid visibly into a slight counter-steer with a clear side roll into the porphyry bend on the Brianza circuit. At the end of the first day of test runs, the 3000 had driven at an average speed of 177 km/h, while on one of the following days, the 2-litre, 4-cylinder model, completed in the meantime, recorded an average of 164 km/h, faster than the Formula 2s! Test driver Consalvo Sanesi enters the track with the Disco Volante 3000 during the first tests in Monza. Gioachino Colombo stands on the right, shouting out some advice The Disco Volante 3000, driven by Sanesi, slightly counter-steering during the first tests in Monza, May-June 1952 Curiously, to track the new car and take the official photographs to be used for the analyses, one of the three 1900 sedan prototypes that remained at the “Sperimentale” (the Alfa Romeo Experimental Department in Portello) was fitted with test plates.  The journalists began to wonder where the incredible cars they had just seen were heading, also because everyone’s lips were sealed at Alfa on the subject. This was the second weird thing. They wouldn’t be competing in the Mille Miglia as they thought because, it had just finished . Perhaps Le Mans that was in less than a month, the Targa Florio, and certainly the 1953 Mille Miglia, they wrote! Alfa had timed the event perfectly to get the journalists’ imagination going. Initially the two versions were recognisable by a few details, and the 3000 was slightly wider, with a twenty-centimetre longer wheelbase and a more pronounced rear overhang, which gave the car a more slender line. The tyres were also wider. But these were all characteristics that were hard to note when looking at the car on its own or in motion. During the first test runs in Monza between late spring and summer 1952, the 3000 version had a single windscreen in front of the driver’s seat, while the very slightly later 2000 had a longer windscreen running across the two seats. On the smaller 4-cylinder version, the twin exhaust pipes were at the rear, while in the 6-cylinder version they were beneath the left-hand door. The headlight frames also different, practically non-existent on the 2-litre version and very visible on the 3-litre version. In subsequent tests, when the 2000 was also ready, the 3-litre version also had the same long windscreen, probably useful for protecting any engineer-passengers, at least from the wind racing in their faces, leaving them to enjoy the adrenalin rush caused by Sanesi’s “heavy foot”. The Alfa Romeo had just left the Formula 1 having won the first two World Championships in 1950 and 1951. The “Alfettas” – the 158 and its evolution the 159, with 450 HP reached on the test bench by some particularly successful and “fresh” engines, had reached the end of their development and began to occasionally show the first signs of failure in some engine parts, including the cylinder head. To remedy these problems, everything had to be done from scratch, or at least preparing new crankcases and heads to replace those that had been in use for years, with costs that Finmeccanica, the state financial holding of the IRI Group that Alfa Romeo belonged to, wasn't willing to cover. Better to withdraw undefeated. Perhaps these futuristic Disco Volantes were the cars intended to race in the Sport category after the three special competition berlinettas, the C.46 Competizione or Sperimentali, with a prepared 6C 2500 engine. The sports journalists already saw them as rivals of Mercedes and Ferrari. Aside from the engines, the new Sport category cars were the work of the engineer Gioachino Colombo, assisted by part of Orazio Satta’s team and watched with interest and curiosity by the Alfa Chairman, Pasquale Gallo. Having worked at Portello in the 1920s and later at Itala in Turin, Gallo was a technician, a poet and a bit of a dreamer, and very much in love with Alfa Romeo. When he was hired at Portello in January 1924, Colombo was “loaned” to Ferrari, which managed the Alfa Romeo racing team until 1929. In 1937, he designed the 158 in just a few months. Returning to Alfa Romeo, after the Alfa Corse racing department had been set up in late 1938, he was deputy manager of the racing car design department. Colombo left Alfa in August 1947, to return in February 1951 to manage the car design department, and left again on 31 August 1952, finally leaving the technical team in the hands of Satta and Busso. Returning to the C.46 Competizione, it is worth mentioning that the third and last car built was never equipped with the racier 145 HP 6C 2500 engine, but rather a unique 2995-cc straight-6 engine based on an engine designed by the technical team of the Spaniard Wifredo Ricart just before he left Alfa Romeo in March 1945. When Gioachino Colombo left Alfa Romeo in 1947, he was replaced temporarily as head of the design team by Luigi Fusi until Busso's return. Having returned to Portello in January 1948 after a short break working for Ferrari for 18 months, Giuseppe Busso began to design a new engine at the end of the year, having assessed the one made by Ricart, a straight-6 2700 cm3, originally fitted with a single overhead camshaft, hydraulic tappets, coolant pump driven by an electric servomotor, underlining the fact that nothing is created from scratch in motor mechanics, things are merely developed. The 6C 3000 engine mounted on the Disco Volante 3000 The engine was completely redesigned by Giuseppe Busso, inspired by the Gazzella 2-litre, a sedan prototype developed during the war. It had a 3-litre engine capacity and a crankshaft with double overhead camshaft, originally intended for a large, American-style sedan, the 6C 3000. This was the replacement of the 6C 2500, the engine of which had been in production, initially with a 2.3-litre engine capacity, since 1934. Life-size plaster model of the large US-style 6C 3000 sedan, totally out of tune with the Alfa Romeo tradition. The project was stopped and replaced with a smaller, more agile sedan, the 1900, later known as the “sedan that wins races”. Now that’s a real Alfa! Busso started developing the engine in the autumn of 1948, and in the summer of 1949 three engines were ready, complete with spare parts, and bench testing began. Consalvo Sanesi tested the chassis of the large sedan in November 1949, but in early 1950 Finmeccanica stopped the project for this large and expensive car. 1949 saw the start of the project for the first modern Alfa Romeo, the 1900, finally equipped with a monocoque and a 4-cylinder, 1.9-litre engine with double overhead camshaft, officially presented in Milan for the first time in the autumn of 1950. In 1951, developments began on a 4-cylinder, 2-litre engine based on the 1900 type. The relationship between the 6-cylinder, 3-litre and the 4-cylinder is clear, even though the 2-litre, 4-cylinder had an aluminium crankcase, in contrast to the cast iron engine block produced as standard on the 1900 and those used on the engines of the four subsequent 2000 Sport/2000 Sportiva cars from 1954-56. The 6-cylinder, 3-litre version, originally designed during wartime and so in a period when precious materials such as aluminium, destined almost exclusively for building planes, were scarce, had a cast iron crankcase from the start, with only the crankshaft in aluminium. This choice was also imposed to ensure the required rigidity for the cylinder block with six straight cylinders, reducing the torsion effects of the long shaft. The final bore measurement chosen by Busso while developing the engine, was 82.55 mm (3 1/4 inches), common in 6 and 4 cylinders but unusual with the strange decimal places, explained by the need to source the pistons and processing machinery from England immediately after the war when it was practically impossible to find anything in Italy. The piston stroke was also different, 92 mm for the 6 cylinders and 88 mm for the 4 cylinders, with actual engine capacities of 2995 and 1884 cc. After Finmeccanica stopped the 6C 3000 project, as we have seen three 3-litre engines (and respective spare parts) had already been built, and one of these was fitted on the third berlinetta C46 Competizione, consequently renamed the 6C 3000 C50; this was driven by Sanesi in the 1950 Mille Miglia. In the 4-cylinder engine used on the Disco Volante, the bore had been taken to 85 mm, with an 88 mm stroke, and an actual engine capacity of 1997.4 cc. The preparation had a good thrust, and indeed the engines apparently delivered 158 HP at 6,500 rpm. This was quite high, and might have indicated a compliance with the US SAE regulation, which required that engine power be measured without any accessories or exhaust systems mounted. 130 HP at 6000 rpm, the data given on the official technical data sheet of the time drafted by Alfa Romeo itself, would appear more plausible; it would seem to be indicated here according to the German DIN or Italian CUNA standards, where power was measured practically in the actual operating conditions. The data provided by Luigi Fusi in the notes he made in the ‘60s from memory are improbable: according to these, on the bench the 2000 reached an outstanding 188 HP, i.e., 94 HP/l, in November 1952! The data probably refers to the 3000-cc version, as for the 3-litre it states around 190-200 HP at 7000 rpm, the engine prepared with more thrust than the one mounted on the berlinetta C50 Competizione, which reached 165 HP at 6000 rpm. Not bad at all, if we think that the original mono-carburettor version envisaged for the large 6C 3000 sedan delivered 120 HP at 4800 rpm. Weighed unladen, the scales stopped at 660 kg for the 2-litre Disco Volante and 100 kg more for the 3000, with a much larger engine built mostly using the much heavier cast iron. The cars were in any case very light and aerodynamic, modern, very unusual and attractive, with a name that was also clouded in mystery. What could be more intriguing for fans of the time, when UFOs were often seen in the skies around the world? We have seen that – much to the chagrin of Busso and his technical team, Colombo returned to Alfa Romeo once more in an executive role. And so the engineer from Legnano had to manage the project and the first developments of the new sports car. This is why two groups of engineers were set up in Alfa. One looked at the new car in an overly diffident and critical manner, the other with the enthusiasm that is usually devoted to one’s own creations. The genesis of the new car was very quick. Alfa Romeo filed the patent for the original “Bodywork for cars with symmetrical biconvex profile with on-board wing-flared sides” in the summer of 1952, in the name of Colombo just before he finally left Portello, and with the approval – under duress – of Carrozzeria Touring, which at the time included Alfa as one of its largest and prestigious clients.  The light steel pipe chassis of the Disco Volante at Touring handles easily and effortlessly. The Disco Volante takes shape at Touring In fact, the Disco Volante was the result of a very close and secret collaboration between Alfa’s Colombo, along with some of his close colleagues, Carlo Felice Bianchi Anderloni and Federico Formenti, respectively owner and head of the Touring Style Centre. Only the Chairman of Alfa Romeo, Pasquale Gallo, was “kindly” allowed to take part in the meetings. The project was drafted during secret sessions held both during the day and often during the evening.  The secret design (… of course, it was for a flying saucer!) was developed considering the mechanical dimensions very closely. The chassis continued to follow the new tubular technique, integrated and completed by smaller pipes housing the aluminium panels shaped by the panel beaters, which formed the bodywork in line with the classic Touring method. It was therefore indispensable to work in synergy, to avoid doubling the parts and increasing the weight, and that was how things were done. Although a serious project, it was actually great fun for the people involved. Who would ever have thought of designing and building a car that was fundamentally unsuited for racing due to the width of the bodywork without being able to exploit it to widen the axle tracks to improve the road holding, a powerful, bare-bones car built cheaply that would become a legend for its unique beauty! Then there was the issue of the original name, “Disco Volante”, which, as explained, in November, again in agreement with Touring, Alfa Romeo deposited for its own exclusive use. The suspensions of the new Sport were taken from the standard 1900 sedan, including the rigid rear axle, in the new version with  lower longitudinal tie-rods and upper central triangle to control the transversal axles shaking and complete the guide in extension . This type of rear suspension with rigid axle was to characterise all Alfa Romeo’s production up to the advent of the Alfetta in 1972. Busso’s team wanted to use a rear De Dion axle, which was what then happened for the later 3000 CM and 2000 Sport/2000 Sportiva, designed when Colombo had once again left Alfa Romeo for the last time.  The 6-cylinder Disco Volante 3000 engine tested on the bench; the three large Weber 48 mm dual-body carburettors clearly visible. On the right, the test driver, driver and mechanic Alessandro Gaboardi Winter 1952, Alfa Corse department on the corner of Via Traiano and Viale Serra. In the foreground, a 3000 CM coupé with a temporary front, bodied by Colli. Probably the first one prepared The brakes had two shoes for each brake (4 are often specified, incorrectly), with helicoidal-finned aluminium drums, while the engine returned to the aluminium crankcase of the first sedan prototypes, later abandoned due to the known problems of flexure and noise, which were unacceptable on a passenger car. But here it was significantly ribbed during casting with a thick rhombus pattern to stiffen the cylinder block. According to Giuseppe Busso, it was Colombo who wanted this solution, which turned out to be expensive while saving only five or six kilos in weight. Counter-weighted engine shaft, single fuel supply with two Weber double body horizontal draught carburettors with simultaneously opening throttles, the same as the ones used on the 3000-cc engine, which however mounted three of them. The dynamic air intake on the carburettors of the 3-litre were characteristically positioned against the right-hand horizontal lobe of the chassis and covered by a mesh, originally further back and poorly visible on the 2-litre.  Four spider versions of the Disco Volante were built, one 3-litre and three 2-litre. After the tests conducted in the summer of 1952, in order to improve the aerodynamics Touring successfully modified the style of a spider 2000 to become a coupé, to offer three configurations of the same car to be tested and “fed” to journalists and enthusiasts: 2000 spider, 2000 coupé and 3000 spider. Today the beautiful coupé seems almost to be the inspiration that led Sir William Lyons’ team of stylists to create the 1961 Jaguar E-Type, another wonderful car legend that, in this case, was produced in series. The 1900 Disco Volante coupé in its final appearance, photographed outside the Touring sheds. Note the wording ‘Superleggera’ and that never used elsewhere, “Disco Volante”, in the same font in the place of the license plate. With the polished aluminium perimeter profile. Note the mirror-finished twin exhaust beneath the left-hand door without silencers Detail of the rear mirror reserved for the registration plate, with the identification wording that was never seen again Perhaps at this point, if he was still alive, Henry Ford would even have agreed to not wear a hat any longer! Poor Mr. Ford, I always end up mentioning him, but with some Alfa Romeos that is inevitable! In October, to present its range of new production and racing cars, Alfa Romeo organised a day in Monza called “A chilling encounter”, to which artists and scholars, poets and philosophers, painters and dramatists were invited, all people usually considered distant from the car world. Drivers including Ascari, Fangio, Farina and Sanesi, took these unusual guests out in the various versions of the 1900 and the Disco Volante on the Brianza track, slippery with rain, and the spectacular success of the event was assured. Although considering that the Disco Volante was not designed for racing, in the autumn of that magical year 1952 it was decided to modify one of the two remaining spider 2000s for uphill racing, removing the characteristically large sides to narrow the bodywork to a conventional size in order to make it more drivable both on the circuits and on the mountain routes. Also in this case, Touring made all the changes quickly and easily, and the Disco Volante, defined somewhat hypocritically, as Busso said, as the “narrow hip” type, began its competition career in January 1953, the only Disco Volante to do so. Alfa Romeo never had the “narrow hip” Disco Volante compete officially but often loaned it to private drivers to take part in races, mainly in southern Italy, in 1953 and 1954. In 1954 the car was sold to the Swiss driver Jean (Willy) Ducrey, who raced it a few times in Switzerland and France. In 1959, the “narrow hip” returned to Italy, purchased by the Neapolitan driver Luigi Bellucci, who raced it in 1953 while it still belonged to Alfa Romeo. Fritz Schlumpf bought it from Bellucci in early April 1963 through Jean Studer, a former driver and partner of an Alfa Romeo dealer in Switzerland. Carlo Felice Bianchi Anderloni of Carrozzeria Touring recalls a fifth Disco Volante and gave the VIN number, but there is no trace in any archive or any memory of this spider 3000. It is very probable that the chassis was built, not completed with bodywork and later destroyed at the “Sperimentale”, given the “propagandist” intention of the car, and also because there was only one other 3000 engine available, which they perhaps preferred to keep as a reserve for the existing 3000 or the berlinetta C50. And then, the 1900 was already in production and had to be marketed. It was therefore quite logical to afford more space to the 4-cylinder version. It should be noted that efforts were in any case made to exploit the 6C 3000 engine. In late 1951, negotiations were held with the Paris-based company Facel-Metallon, which was interested in the construction licence for the engine and related production machinery, and a contract was drafted specifying an initial royalty of 3% on each of the first 1000 (!) engines built and the related spare parts. It is not known which car the French wanted to mount it on (and they would in any case have to use the wording “Manufactured on licence from Alfa Romeo”), but nothing came of it and, after its brief period on the Disco Volante 3000, the 6C 3000 engine finally entered Portello history. Winter 1952, Alfa Corse department on the corner of Via Traiano and Viale Serra. In the foreground, a 3000 CM coupé with a temporary front, bodied by Colli. Probably the first one prepared Alfa Romeo exploited the ownership of the Disco Volante name even after the original Touring creations. The subsequent 3000 CM spider and coupé (but with a 3.5-litre engine) which raced intensively in the following sporting seasons in the hands of drivers of the calibre of Fangio, Kling, Sanesi and others, initially received this name from journalists and enthusiasts, practically forcing Alfa Romeo to adopt it semi-officially, even though they did not have the typical biconvex bodywork and were not bodied by Touring, but by Carrozzeria Colli.  In fact, in early December 1952, Alfa asked Touring to make the new sports cars with the new 3500-cc engine at a cost that could not exceed the offers of other coachbuilders, a sign that it had “already had a look around”. The matter was finally solved in late August 1953, when Alfa received Touring’s official refusal to produce the bodywork for the new Sport at the indicated financial conditions. In any case the job had already been given to Colli, in Viale Certosa in Milan, a few hundred yards from Touring’s headquarters in Via Ludovico Da Breme, also close to Portello. The letter, dated when Alfa already had a few of Colli’s 3000 CM taking part in the races, seems to be done at the request of an “official” reply (verba volant, scripta manent...) and relieved Alfa from any potential problems.  It is worth remembering that the new racing car not only didn't have the same original type of bodywork of the Touring Disco Volante, but neither the chassis, the suspensions or the mechanics generally. As Giuseppe Busso well recalls, their 3.5-litre engine was based vaguely on the 3000 originally intended for the 6C 3000 sedan, but this is practically a new project with completely different vital measurements, despite keeping that now-classic Alfa layout with six straight cylinders and double overhead camshaft with hemispherical expansion chamber and single power supply, here with six Weber 50 DCO horizontal monobloc carburettors. Some accessories were in a different position, and the distributor was splined to the rear of the exhaust camshaft like on the standard 1900 and the 3-litre Disco Volante 2000, while on the 3.5-litre it was positioned to the side of the crankcase. The tappet system was also different; on the 3.5-litre they were done by interposing valve lifters in oil bath, adjusted by calibrated pads, between the cam and the valve, instead of the classic adjustable plates. The subsequent reduction to a 3-litre engine, used on the “PR” (acronym of Passo Ridotto, “reduced wheelbase”) was also obtained by reducing the 3.5-litre engine stroke. But for now, as they say, that’s another story. The only Disco Volante 2000 of the three built, the spider with convex sides, polished and finished with greater care and equipped with a twin exhaust beneath the door, continued its “promotional work” and was loaded onto a Douglas DC.3 twin-engine plane and taken to New York, where from 21 February to 1 March 1953 the “World Motor Sport Show” was held in Madison Square Garden. The world’s production of the most beautiful sports cars of the day was on show at this prestigious exhibition, in a parade that made dreams come true! While it was travelling to Linate in an Alfa Romeo 450 truck, the ill-fated driver of a Vespa 98 hit the mudguard of one of the truck's rear wheels. Who knows, perhaps it was even one of the very first Vespas, with the body and cylinder built by Alfa... keeping things in the family! Transport from Portello to Linate airport for the BEA DC3 flight to New York. A Vespa 98 turns out of a junction as the Alfa tipo 450 passes and hits the rear right-hand mudguard. It may have been one of the very first Vespa 98s, with body and cylinder made in Portello... The Disco Volante waited patiently on the truck while the police assessed the scene, and at last it reached the airport, where the terminal was still under construction. The loading operations were stressful and it took a long time getting the car into the wide side door of the plane, pushed by hand and overseen by Formenti and Touring’s lawyer Ponzoni. At Milano-Linate airport, at last. At Linate airport, the Disco Volante 2000 is loaded into the BEA DC3 fuselage with a few hitches! Note the perplexed expression on some people’s faces ... Return to Milano-Linate: the rear damage caused when unloading it from the plane is clearly visible. The sides of the car touched the edges of the plane door and the car had to be slid inside directly from the truck, turning it immediately to fit longways inside the plane's fuselage. This was certainly the reason why the 3000 was not sent to the States, as the extra 42 cm length would have been an insurmountable problem for loading it onto the plane. It was weird that nothing went wrong, but on its return to Italy, during the unloading operations, the tail violently hit a beam, slipped and was ruined. The event in New York was a huge success, but despite this the Disco Volante was assured none of the much-expected commercial success that was described in the press. It was simply put to one side. Perhaps the mysterious fifth car was not completed but destroyed precisely for this reason.  The spruced-up Disco Volante 3000 at the Alfa Romeo stand at the 1953 Geneva Motor Show, among the 1900 range. We have seen how this car was deemed a brilliant exercise in style but ineffective in the sporting field. Or, perhaps that was precisely its purpose, to arouse international interest and advertise mass-produced cars, an amazing marketing strategy at reasonable costs, seeing as most of the mechanics were already available, including the now-useless 3-litre engine taken to the limits of its potential, and further fuelling the “Alfa Romeo legend”. Perhaps Sanesi knew or realised this, and that was what came across in the photos portraying him during the test runs at Monza. In one photo he has that typical, restrained and enigmatic smile, his penetrating gaze telling the photographer: “Nice isn’t it? Desire one, but buy a 1900. I’ll show you what it's capable of driving round the track in mine, but you will never know how awkward it would be among the other racing cars on the tight bends. Nothing like Le Mans!”. I hope the ladies won't be offended, but the real Disco Volante is like a curvy woman with wide, sensual hips, a slim waist and generous bust, totally unsuited for competition sports... As the interest aroused by the car confirms, Alfa continued to receive letters in the late ‘50s from enthusiasts from different countries, first and foremost the United States, asking how and where they could buy a Disco Volante. Today, all four Disco Volante “sisters” still survive in their original configuration or modified condition, aside from a few details. The 2000 spiders (the one taken to New York and the coupé) are on display at the Alfa Romeo Museum in Arese. “Our” spider 3000 – the star of this story – is at the National Automobile Museum in Turin, gifted by Alfa Romeo in the 1950s, and as she herself has “told” us, she is often incorrectly indicated as having a 3500-cc engine. Curiously, only the first edition of the catalogue (1960) correctly stated that she has a 3000-cc engine. The 2-litre “narrow hip” is on display at the National Automobile Museum in Mulhouse, France, bought by Fritz Schlumpf, shortly after the end of her long, if not intense, sporting career that ended in 1959. When other 4-wheeled flying saucers have been or are seen, they are merely the monsters created in the mind of a modern Mary Schelley. This is the story of a car that seems to come from deep space. A skilful marketing operation that produced a four-wheeled dream, that still today makes enthusiasts’ hearts beat faster.  Disco Volante - “Thank you so much! You know, here there’s another Alfa Romeo that has a few stories to tell, you must know her. She’s older than me and the Alfetta 159.109, her name is P2...”. I look around for her... I’ll be back to you again as well, I promise. And it’s been exactly one hundred years since ... Credits and Acknowledgments The author, Fabio Morlacchi was born in Milan in 1960, and studied architecture and advertising graphics. In 1983, he started working for an advertising agency, on the launch of the Alfa 33. A car fanatic from a young age, Alfa Romeo was a passion at home too, as both his parents worked there: his father was a designer and his mother worked in Sales. His love of planes came from his paternal grandfather, who was a bomber pilot and officer of the Regia Aeronautica (Italian Royal Air Force) from 1918 to 1943. He is a member of the Alfa Blue Team, historian, speaker and writer on car history, particularly that of Alfa Romeo, as well as the history of Italian aviation. The photographer, Paolo Carlini , is a professional photographer from Milan with over thirty years of experience. He is a member of the Order of Journalists and the National Association of Prifessional Photographers Tau Visual. Specializing in commercial imagery, he has worked with prominent clients both in Italy and internationally. Carlini has captured portraits of artists, designers, and entrepreneurs, which have been exhibited in prestigious shows. He has also published photography books and shares his expertise through workshops and courses. Paolo Carlini is a respected figure in the world of photography SpeedHolics thanks the MAUTO – National Automobile Museum in Turin, for having made available the “Disco Volante” from its prestigious collection for this article. Appendix The Disco Volante “narrow hip” drivers and races Piero Carini: 2nd in the Coppa Sant'Ambroeus on 11-01-1953, 10th in Messina on 25-07-1953, 4th in the Coppa Intereuropa on 11-09-1953 Pietro Palmieri and Francesco Matrullo: withdrawn from the 12 Ore in Pescara on 16-0 8-1953 Goffredo Zehender and A. De Giuseppe: withdrawn after 8 hours at the MM on 16-04-1953 Soldani and Vivaldo Angeli: 11th at the 10 Ore in Messina on 07-7-1953 Nicola Musmeci: 8th in the Coppa D'Oro in Siracusa on 10-10-1954, position not known at the 1954 Catania-Etna Luigi Bellucci: 2nd in Avellino on 12-07-1953, 3rd in the Giro di Calabria on 02-08-1954, withdrawn at the G.P. Supercortemaggiore in Merano on 06-09-1953 (won by Fangio in the 3000 CM) Jean (Willy) Ducrey took part in several races during the 1954-1955 season, 3rd in the uphill race in Cote de Planfoy (F), withdrawn on the Bremgarten Circuit (CH), position unknown at the Gran Prix d’Orleans (F) on 05-06-1954, position unknown at the uphill race in Kandersteg (CH) in 1959.

A tale of genius and passion, on both sides of the ocean, starring personalities of the calibre of Marcello Gandini and Lee Iacocca: the heir of the Countach was not only the fastest production car ever built until that time, but was also what it took to transform the brand from Sant’Agata Bolognese into a technological company in step with the times. Leading this miracle was Luigi Marmiroli, the project manager who, forty years after the start of the works, agreed to tell us the "behind the scenes” Words and B&W Photography Alessandro Barteletti Car Photography Paolo Carlini Video Andrea Ruggeri   Archive Courtesy of the Luigi Marmiroli Archive That year, the Marmiroli family had decided to spend their Easter holidays on Lake Trasimeno, one of the rare opportunities to enjoy some time all together. Aged just over forty, the mechanical engineer Luigi was always traveling around the world. He parked the motorhome near a large farm estate and asked his wife to wait there with their three children, while he continued on foot. It was 1985. On that short trip from there to the gates of the estate, he couldn't help smiling. After all, his was a story of fate. He was born in 1943 on a farm in Fiorano Modenese, on the very land that would later be home to the Ferrari testing circuit. And it was precisely at Ferrari, after university, that he began his career as a designer. His was dumb luck. It was 1970, and he was put in charge of overseeing the introduction of computers, a matter that was as futuristic as it was complex. The Ferrari veterans, from Franco Rocchi to Walter Salvarani to Mauro Forghieri, had to go through him to translate their drawings and ideas into a language that could be managed by the modern computer. And that was how Marmiroli learned the secrets of building cars from the best. In 1976, with his friend and colleague Giacomo Caliri, he set up Fly Studio, and soon became a consultant for Fittipaldi’s Copersucar, ATS, Minardi and Carlo Chiti, the former Ferrari engineer and then star of Autodelta, so all the Alfa Romeo racing history from the 1960s onwards. For Chiti and Autodelta those were the Formula 1 years, and Marmiroli found himself increasingly involved in the project, and indeed in 1983 was appointed technical director of Euroracing, the team that inherited the Alfa Romeo single-seaters. After two years on the world circuits, the call came. During the 1984 San Marino Grand Prix, Marmiroli was approached in the pits in Imola: “Come and work for us,” a Lamborghini delegate asked him. “We have to develop the heir to the Countach.” And that’s how the incredible story of the supercar that would one day be called the Diablo began. [click to watch the video]   When he arrived in Sant’Agata Bolognese, his first decision was the most honest and intelligent. For a few months, Marmiroli stood in the shadows and watched, studying and breathing in the Lamborghini air. And to complete the picture, there was just one more thing he had to do: go and meet the Founder. By the Seventies, Ferruccio Lamborghini had retired to Umbria, to the estate near where Marmiroli had parked his motorhome. This was the man who, with great determination and vision, or rather his authentic character, had given birth to a legend. And the story of that legend is well-known: an acclaimed manufacturer of agricultural vehicles, one day Lamborghini was visiting Maranello and, as a customer of the Prancing Horse, he permitted himself to criticise the Commendatore's cars. Enzo Ferrari, another man with not the easiest character in the world, clapped back immediately: And what would you, a man who makes tractors, know? And so, in 1963, Ferruccio began to make cars. He did this until the early Seventies, but then the accounts didn't add up any more and he decided to move to Umbria, where he began to make wine. “I bought a box of his famous red, Sangue di Miura,” Luigi Marmiroli tells me today. “In fact, I never drank it, I’ve still got it today, a souvenir.” Sitting opposite me, the engineer agreed to tell his story and the behind-the-scenes of the project that, more than all the others, he is still very fond of. We are in a place for enthusiasts, a garage in the province of Padua that hosts the collection of Andrea Nicoletto, President of the Lamborghini Club Italia and owner of the Diablo chassis “No. 41”, the star of the photos in this article. One from the first series, red, in perfect condition and with a unique and original history: it was bought new by Alpine, the famous car hi-fi brand, and was used for its advertising campaigns at the time. “Ferruccio was very hospitable, but I didn't tell him who I was,” Marmiroli continues. “He spoke with such enthusiasm that he gave the impression that the company was still his, when in fact he had left over ten years earlier. In his opinion, a Lamborghini should get a speeding fine even just sitting in a car park. What he meant by that was that a car deserved to bear his name only if it could arouse feelings of speed and high performance even without switching on the engine.” That was all Marmiroli needed to finally find the right direction to follow. Marmiroli explains the various style proposals put forward by Chrysler. The Americans created their mock-ups using clay, which allowed them to quickly refine the models. In the end, Gandini's design was chosen, with only a few minor adjustments.                   Being the worthy heir of the Countach was not the future Diablo’s only burden and honour. The new project – code name P132 – also had the responsibility of turning the company around. After Ferruccio, Lamborghini ended up in the hands of two Swiss businessmen and, at one point, risked bankruptcy. And then the French Mimran brothers came along. “And precisely at that time, came the period that I like to call the Lamborghini Renaissance ,” Marmiroli confirms.          In the years when the Diablo was being designed, the climate at Sant’Agata warmed up again. “We started working on the style,” the engineer insists. Someone from inside chose Giugiaro, but when the Chairman Patrick Mimran received his proposal, he wasn't very keen. “I remember I was quite pleased, because I wanted to call in Marcello Gandini. Who better than the man who, from the Miura onwards, had unequivocally defined the Lamborghini style?” According to Gandini, the new car had to be exclusive. As already happened when passing from the Miura to the Countach – two very different cars, and for this reason each with their unique style – it wasn’t so much the ‘family feeling’ but the uniqueness that counted. “Working with Gandini meant fully returning to Ferruccio’s philosophy. He too thought that the exceptional mechanics and technology under a beautiful cover had to be clearly understood at first glance.”          Gandini’s approach was more one of an engineer than a designer. “Rather than sketches, he started directly from the construction plan, drawing a 1:1 car with all the lines. His staff then made the model starting from these huge drawings. When he presented us with the first full-scale scale model, the approval at Lamborghini was unanimous.”          In April 1987 came the first running prototype. “We renamed it the P0 and painted it an anonymous mousy grey colour so that it didn't attract too much attention, and we camouflaged it with a few fake air intakes here and there. These were the means we had at the time to mislead the photographers and journalists who lay in wait behind a bend or a tree, looking for a scoop. On its first trip out, the prototype drove three times round the company.”          However, the Mimran management began to falter, as it didn't have the economic strength to carry on developing the project. By surprise, the French sold the company to the US Chrysler, whose boss was Lee Iacocca, the Ford Mustang man. “He was of Italian origin, and spoke our language, so it was an easy transition. Iacocca had a beautiful villa in Tuscany, and we set up a meeting there to compare Gandini’s style model with a Countach and a Ferrari Testarossa, the benchmark competitor at that time. He liked our proposal, but I got the impression that a company like Chrysler wanted to demonstrate a more concrete participation in the project.” When they said goodbye, the Americans asked the Lamborghini managers to make a few changes to the rear.          “So Gandini softened the tail, and we went back to Iacocca, but this time he had brought the managers from the Chrysler style centre. There seemed to be more of them than all the Lamborghini employees put together. On that occasion, it was decided to send the style model to the States, where two proposals would be made, one smoother and the other much more aggressive, which to me seemed outrageous compared to the original idea.” Marmiroli and Gandini left for the States on what seemed a diplomatic mission, seeking to find a solution that was not disliked by Chrysler but which didn't betray the original idea. “And we succeeded. I must say that the Americans played the tough guys, because they continued to churn out proposals. They used clay to create the style models. They spread it over and modelled it, really quickly. Iacocca was very decent, because in the end he called us to see all the Chrysler proposals and Gandini’s version, all lined up next to each other. He said: You choose, you have the final say . Our reply was obvious. We went back to Sant’Agata more than happy.” And then Marmiroli had another idea: “ Marcello, we’ve got to sign this,” I told Gandini. He was quite reserved, a bit of an introvert, but he accepted in order to avoid any misunderstandings and to underline the car’s Italian style. And so, on the right-hand side of the final car, we applied a plate with his name on it.” A decision that was also the manifesto of an all-Italian philosophy. “There has always been a sense of belonging here, a kind of engagement, awareness and affection the workers have towards what they are creating. I firmly believe that this was a very important lesson for the Americans too.”   Technically, the car concept was based on the idea of top performance. “The layout of the Countach, with the longitudinal rear engine and the gearbox between the drivers, would also have worked well on the new car. But that was only the starting point, because in the end the only detail that the Diablo shared with her heir was the Lamborghini emblem on the front.” From the square-section trellis chassis to the V12 5.7 litre engine (that delivered 492 HP at 5200 rpm), from the gearbox to the differential, everything was re-designed. And the P132 also had another merit. When Marmiroli came to Lamborghini, he was forced to make the first calculations with the computers at his Fly Studio, because in Sant’Agata they were still using drawing boards. One step at a time, the engineer managed to introduce the calculation of the finished elements for the chassis, and CAD. “At the same time, we trained young engineers who then went on to become successful throughout Europe.” In addition, the previous models were powered by carburettors, and this was a problem working in the United States because of the strict anti-pollution laws. “There was only one solution, to convert to electronic injection. Marelli worked with Ferrari, and didn't want to work with us. We tried with Bosch, who laughed when they heard our production figures. So we made a crazy decision, all in all, and made it in-house. We called it Lamborghini Electronic Injection, and it was brilliant. In those years we also introduced composite materials for various details on the bodywork, and did this with the help of a young guy called Horacio Pagani, who started out as one of our employees.”   We can say that the Diablo was the last Lamborghini to be tested old-style on the road. “We drove the first prototype round Sant’Agata at night. There were these long roads in the middle of the fields, and a petrol station that always had the light on, and we engineers camped out there. The car was test-driven by Valentino Balboni: when he was about to pass in front of us, we could hear the roar in the distance, and then we saw the car rocket past like a UFO.” One night they stopped hearing that roar. “All of a sudden, silence. Coming from racing and the track, for me, not hearing the sound of the car engine on a test drive meant that something was wrong. I've always been very worried in those moments, until you see what has happened and have checked that everyone is fine. We raced over in the service car, there were no mobile phones in those days. We found Valentino standing outside the car, lit only by the moon. In Modenese dialect, which was our official language, he said: Engineer, nothing’s working here. The electric system had broken, so no headlights. He had stopped before he ended up in the middle of the fields.” Having completed the development and the final prototypes, Lamborghini took on some new testers, notably including the name of Luigi Moccia. “We defined a route that left the company premises, went down the motorway and then along some minor roads. We covered thousands of kilometres, and every now and then our testers passed those from Maranello. It was absolutely forbidden to break the highway code, but I reckon that they had a few races every now and then… Those were the days.” And then the tests began at the Nardò track in southern Italy. A tarmac ring used to test high-performance cars at their top speeds. “That was where we type-approved the Diablo at 325 km/h, so the first production car to reach that speed. I remember that day very well, it was a great celebration for everyone, and I remember another very curious episode. When the Diablo had been on sale for a while, I received a call from a French client: Ingénieur, at 300 km/hour, the windscreen wipers don't work . I replied: Sorry, you drive at that speed in the rain? His answer made perfect sense: Oh yes. You promised this performance, and at that speed the whole car has to work ! We went back to Nardò and tried to recreate the same situation. And in fact, the wipers didn't move. So we started to add a few little fins here and there to deviate the air flow, until everything went like clockwork.” To choose the name for the new car, originally known as Project 132 during its development, a list of proposed names was drawn up on a sheet of graph paper. Each executive then marked their preferred option with a check. The winner was "Diablo".   While the car was being developed it was given the code name Progetto 132 , but soon the time came to find a name worthy of a Lamborghini, also complying with the now-consolidated tradition of references to bull-fighting. “At the time there was nothing like a marketing department, which today would handle a question like this. I took the initiative and, with an eye on the past, I set a few ground rules. The names had to be short and immediately recognisable, possibly just two syllables, perhaps with a Spanish flair. I threw in a few Modenese words for good measure, like “Fulmen”, meaning lightening, so something really fast". "I drew up a list of around thirty options on an A2 sheet of graph paper, the ones we used to draw our designs, I still have it. I sent it round the managers and employees of the company, asking them to tick their preference. In the end, the name Diablo got the most votes.” The car was finally ready to be launched in early 1990. On 20 and 21 January, Montecarlo, the place chosen for the presentation, seemed like a branch of Sant’Agata. “We had organised a Lamborghini Day,” Marmiroli recalls. “The place was full of flags and Lamborghini cars, but nobody knew the real reason for the invitation sent out to the specialised press and sector experts from all over the world. Of course, Emile Novaro and Lee Iacocca were there, respectively the chairmen of Lamborghini and Chrysler.” Around a thousand people came to the presentation in the evening, and looking at the shape of a car hidden under a sheet on the stage, some people began to realise what it was all about. “At one point, the lights faded and the Spanish tenor José Carreras sang Nessun Dorma from Giacomo Puccini's Turandot . When he got to Vincerò, Vincerò, red smoke filtered up from the ground and the Diablo was unveiled to the audience.” Everyone wanted to see it close-up, and ran to the stage. “The floor began to wobble. Off, everyone off … someone cried. We literally had a few moments of panic, but all’s well that ends well. That day, Iacocca said that in all his years he had never seen such a thrilling presentation.” The Diablo was produced for over a decade, from 1990 to 2001. The saga that, if we consider the years of design, with four different managers (the Mimran brothers, Chrysler, the Indonesian Megatech investors, and finally Audi) took Lamborghini from being a small trade business to a modern, technological company. Around three thousand Diablos were built, in seventeen different versions. “There were three progenitors: the coupé on show at the presentation, with rear-wheel drive; the four-wheel drive VT with viscous coupling on the gearbox outlet; an open variant that we called Roadster. I should also mention the competition versions. First and foremost, the JLOC, for racing in Japan, and then the SV-Rs for the Lamborghini Super Sport Trophy, around thirty derived directly from the SV production version, having removed all the superfluous parts and adding safety features such as rollbars and extinguishers.” The engines and gearboxes were sealed so that nobody could tamper with them and so all the cars were the same: what made the difference was the driver. “And at the end of the championship, the parts could all be refitted on the car so that the owner could continue to enjoy their Diablo every day on the roads.”   Marmiroli gazes into the distance, and then smiles. “I want you to really understand the spirit driving this whole project,” the engineer says, returning to the day of the presentation in 1990 again and reciting the speech he made that day: “We come from a small town in Emilia Romagna surrounded by fog. We have come to Montecarlo to present you a project. To create this project, we used all the techniques and technologies you can imagine. We used the best computers, but this car is not the result of a computer. We did lots of tests in the wind tunnel, but this car is not the result of aerodynamics. The Diablo was designed and built by humans for other humans. This is our philosophy.”   Marmiroli stands up, strolls round the Diablo parked behind him and rests a hand on the bodywork, like a father fondly patting his daughter. A recent photo of Marcello Gandini and Luigi Marmiroli, two of the key figures behind the success of the Diablo. Gandini, who passed away in early 2024, played a fundamental role in defining Lamborghini's style, starting with the Miura.   --- Credits and Acknowledgments The author, Alessandro Barteletti: A photographer and journalist with more than twenty years of experience, Alessandro has been capturing and telling the stories behind social, sports, and news events through both images and words. Driven by a lifelong passion for anything that goes fast—whether on the road or in the sky—he has specialized in motorsports, aviation, and space, collaborating with some of the leading industry magazines and creating exclusive projects for National Geographic, Dallara Automobili, and the Italian Air Force. Throughout his career, he has accumulated several flight hours as a photographer aboard jets and military aircraft, including Eurofighter, MB339, M346, AMX, and others. A photography teacher, his work has been exhibited at galleries around the world on several occasions. Alessandro was born in Rome, where he currently lives. The photographer, Paolo Carlini : He is a professional photographer from Milan with over thirty years of experience. He is a member of the Order of Journalists and the National Association of Professional Photographers Tau Visual. Specializing in commercial imagery, he has worked with prominent clients both in Italy and internationally. Carlini has captured portraits of artists, designers, and entrepreneurs, which have been exhibited in prestigious shows. He has also published photography books and shares his expertise through workshops and courses. Paolo Carlini is a respected figure in the world of photography. The videomaker, Andrea Ruggeri : He was born in Rome. He collaborates with magazines and companies as freelance photographer and videomaker. His pictures and videos have appeared in Vogue, Trussardi, Marie Claire, Vanity Fair, L’Officiel, Brioni, Harper’s Bazaar, National Geographic, L’Espresso, Geo, Gambero Rosso, Robb Report, Glamour, Class, Ansa, Repubblica, La Nación. He exhibited at “Festival Internazionale di Roma” of photography and at the Museum Of Contemporary Art in Shanghai. He currently lives in Orvieto. SPEEDHOLICS WOULD LIKE TO THANK ANDREA NICOLETTO, PRESIDENT OF LAMBORGHINI CLUB ITALIA, FOR ALLOWING THE FILMING OF THIS FEATURE AT HIS HEADQUARTERS AND FOR PROVIDING HIS PERSONAL LAMBORGHINI DIABLO. THE CAR (CHASSIS NO. 41) WAS ORIGINALLY OWNED BY THE CAR AUDIO COMPANY ALPINE, WHICH USED IT FOR ITS ADVERTISING CAMPAIGNS AT THE TIME.

At the heart of this story lies a car: the Alfa Romeo 6C 2300 Aerodinamica Spider, also known as the extraordinary Jankovits Aerospider. For years, debates swirled around its origins and legitimacy, fueling discussions across countless internet forums. Back in 2012, while researching this model for my book "Quando le Disegnava il Vento" (1), I found myself navigating a labyrinth of conflicting theories. “It has sparked schools of thought and divergent opinions,” I wrote then, “starting with the fundamental question: Is it truly an Alfa Romeo?” (2) Words and Drawings Massimo Grandi Today, however, I believe the story has been clarified, thanks to a monumental monograph titled “Alfa Romeo Aerospider” (3) written by its current owner, German collector Georg Gebhard. He dedicated years to research, collecting extensive documentation and introducing a rich array of original materials from the car's creators, courtesy of the son of one of them, who also authored one of the book's prefaces. Eugenio (Gino) Jankovits was born in Fiume (today Rijeka, Croatia) in 1911, followed by his brother Oscar in 1912. After the premature death of their father, the brothers were raised by the wealthy family of their grandfather, Eugen Fabich, a prosperous timber merchant. Upon finishing high school, the two young men enrolled at the Polytechnic University of Turin: Eugenio in the Faculty of Engineering, Oscar in Architecture. However, they both shared a passion for engines, automobiles, and speed. They convinced their grandfather to invest in a garage where they could experiment and work on their ideas and projects. Thus, the “Autorimessa Lampo” was established in Fiume—a garage that was the largest and most modern in the region. It employed skilled craftsmen, mechanics, coachbuilders, and upholsterers. With space for 100 cars, it also became the exclusive dealership for Alfa Romeo and OM (Officine Meccaniche Brescia) in the Istrian region. Unable to balance their studies in Turin with work at the garage in Fiume, the brothers decided to leave the university to fully dedicate themselves to their projects. It was 1933. The adventure was about to begin. At the time, Alfa Romeo was facing challenges in its racing activities with its prestigious and successful P3 GP car due to fierce international competition, particularly from Germany’s Auto Union. The technical director and head of design at Alfa Romeo was Vittorio Jano. In January 1934, Jano was invited by Ferdinand Porsche to witness the testing of the new Auto Union Type A on the track. Jano was highly impressed by Porsche's revolutionary car, which featured a tubular frame and a 16-cylinder engine positioned not at the front but behind the driver, in a mid-engine layout. This configuration wasn’t new to Porsche, who had experimented with it during his collaboration with Edmond Rumpler for the Benz Tropfenwagen in 1923. The Tropfenwagen also had a mid-engine design, was low and streamlined, and, when viewed from the side, resembled a teardrop (in German, “Tropfen”). Ferdinand Porsche maintained this configuration in all his subsequent Auto Union GP cars and in the Cisitalia Tipo 360 . Jano, already aware of the advantages of a mid-engine layout, was convinced by the Auto Union Type A to pursue a similar project for Alfa Romeo: a 12-cylinder mid-engine GP car that could compete with the German machines. However, he knew that Alfa Romeo couldn’t handle the simultaneous development of a new engine, chassis, and body, not to mention the financial risk. Unlike Germany, where Auto Union and Mercedes-Benz enjoyed government funding of 300,000 marks each, no such state investments existed in Italy. Jano understood that Alfa Romeo’s board of directors would never approve his project. Nonetheless, he was determined to proceed. To do so, he needed external facilities, technicians, and, most importantly, funding. This “outsourcing” would also help keep the project hidden from competitors and even Enzo Ferrari, who at the time managed Alfa Romeo’s racing team. Jano was unwilling to risk the project falling into other hands. Jano had previously met the Jankovits brothers when they were students at the Polytechnic University of Turin, an institution he maintained close ties with from his time at Fiat. The Polytechnic was advanced in mechanical and aerodynamics studies, boasting a wind tunnel and producing top engineering talents. Jano recognized the brothers’ talent, preparation, and passion for engines and racing cars. He had even taken them to the aforementioned Auto Union Type A tests in January 1934. The Jankovits brothers had everything needed to start the project: a well-equipped garage, the skills and motivation, and the financial means. Jano proposed his idea to them, and they enthusiastically accepted, immediately starting work. Blueprints and sketches were regularly reviewed and discussed with Jano. Unfortunately, much of the early-stage materials were lost during the war and the Jankovits’ flight from Fiume. Jano managed to supply the brothers with an Alfa Romeo chassis (#700316), prepared for a 12-cylinder mid-engine layout, along with a temporary 95-horsepower engine, a gearbox, Alfa Romeo suspension components, and racing wheels. Modified Ford 8V rear suspension, Lockheed braking parts from a 1938 Buick, and a differential from a Lancia Dilambda were also used. By 1935, the project had progressed significantly, with the design resembling a sporty spider. While it was conceived as a single-seat GP car, its design disguised its true purpose to maintain secrecy. Evidence of this is the centrally positioned driver’s seat. Looking back at the photos taken during the road tests, one cannot help but notice the temporary nose covering the car's radiator—a nose that appears to draw inspiration in its shape from Porsche's Auto Union cars. One could also, purely as a flight of imagination—just as an exercise of fantasy—try to envision a hypothetical form for Jano's GP car. The car’s body took shape by 1937, featuring a sleek, aerodynamic profile. Lacking rear lights and fitted with only one headlamp, it was unmistakably a racing car. But in 1937, Jano left Alfa Romeo, and in his place, engineer Wilfredo Ricart was appointed. Thus, the ambitious GP project fell apart, leaving the Jankovits brothers with a race car that, in its current configuration, had no future. To recoup their investment, they decided to transform the racing spider into a road-going spider. Between 1938 and 1939, they modified the car’s racing design to make it suitable for street use. The P1 engine was replaced with a 6C 2300 engine, two passenger seats were added on either side of the central driver's seat, and a large three-piece windshield was installed to protect the two lateral passengers. This windshield, while functional, was not very consistent in size or shape with the sleek and flowing lines of the bodywork. However, it was attached to the body using screws at the base of its supports, making it easily removable. Additionally, rear lights and a license plate were installed, along with two low, round headlights at the front. With all these modifications, the car was fully homologated for road use. In 1939, the car was truly groundbreaking. Aside from the GP Auto Union cars, no road vehicle featured a mid-engine layout. To see something similar, we must fast forward to 1948 with the creation of the first Porsche 356, the No. 1—a sporty roadster with a comparable architecture: the engine mounted longitudinally at the center of the chassis, between the passenger seats and the rear axle. Even in its exterior design, the car was absolutely original. Aerodynamically efficient, it vaguely recalled the extreme lines of the German record-breaking vehicles, such as the Auto Union Type C Streamliner of 1932. The bodywork does not merely clothe the bare mechanics but is shaped based on aerodynamic principles of drag resistance and, above all, the flow of air streams around its mass. Its clean and harmonious lines, low profile, long descending tail, and smooth, rounded flanks all respond exclusively to aerodynamic and fluid-dynamic needs. The architecture consists of three elements: a central fairing that follows the teardrop shape principle and two pontoon-style fenders with a descending rear profile. The sides are smooth and uninterrupted, with the only exception being the slight protrusion of the rear wheel covers. At the front, there is a low hood beneath the fenders, an air intake designed and cut directly into the body without any grille, and two low, round headlights integrated into the structure. The three volumes blend seamlessly, sculpting an interplay of concave and convex lines in the transverse profile. This integration extended to envelop the entire underbody, preventing turbulence between the road surface and the vehicle’s body. The overall design concept is that of the "Alaspessa," already present at the end of the 1930s and later widespread in sports cars of the 1940s and 1950s. This concept features a longitudinal airfoil-shaped profile with compact forms, fenders, and headlights integrated into the car's bodywork. However, unlike other similar designs, the engine is no longer placed at the front but at the center of the vehicle, immediately behind the driver. This change leads to the evolution of this design concept, revolutionizing the form system: the front attachment, or the car's nose, which drops below the fender profiles; the absence of bumpers; and the headlights integrated flush with the bodywork—these are all elements that together help improve aerodynamic penetration and minimize disturbances to the airflow at the front of the car. In this perfect synthesis of aesthetics and aerodynamics, as previously mentioned, the large windshield in the road version noticeably clashes. While it served to protect the two side passengers from the wind, its size and square shape broke the fluid, streamlined coherence of the bodywork’s design. Today, after passing through many hands and being restored by its current owner, Professor Georg Gebhart, the Aerospider shines once again. Painted in a deep petrol blue-green, it can be admired at the Technik Museum in Sinsheim, Germany. An automobile conceived for racing and speed, its every detail reflects a pure functional philosophy. This purity of concept and simplicity of design make the Jankovits Aerospider a timeless masterpiece, nearly 85 years after its creation. (1) M. Grandi , “ Quando le disegnava il vento ”, Libreria Automotoclub storico, Torino, 2012 (2) Editor's note : Despite the numerous publications and ongoing discussions surrounding this remarkable car, there remains no definitive proof regarding the exact circumstances that led to its creation. Much of the narrative is based on historical interpretations, but the full story continues to be shrouded in mystery. The details of its conception, design, and development remain elusive, leaving room for further research and exploration. (3) G. Gebhard , “ Alfa Romeo Aerospider ”, published by Georg Gebhard, Waldbröl, Germany, 2018 -- Massimo Grandi , architect and designer, previously director of the Car Design laboratory at the Design Campus of the Department of Architecture at the University of Florence. Member of the ASI Culture Commission. Among his published works: “La forma della memoria: il progetto della Ferrari Alaspessa”, “Car design workshop”, “Dreaming American Cars”, “Ferrari 550 Alaspessa: dall’idea al progetto”, “Quando le disegnava il vento”, “Il paradigma Scaglione”, “La più veloce: breve storia dei record mondiali di velocità su strada” (with others).

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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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 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. 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. 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." 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. 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. … 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. 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. 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. 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.

Giovanni Michelotti, my father, was one of the most influential designers in the world of automotive design. With a confident hand and an unmistakable aesthetic, he left a lasting mark on the industry. The Historical Archive preserves over six thousand of his drawings—a mere fraction of his works, many of which remain scattered across the world. Those drawings capture his vision, his ability to create forms with spontaneity and certainty, making each stroke a concrete expression of his ideas. Words Edgardo Michelotti Photos and drawings Archivio Storico Michelotti (http://www.archiviostoricomichelotti.it/) The Archivio Storico Michelotti represents only a small portion of my father’s lifetime production. It offers just a glimpse into my father’s life, with countless sketches and figurines beyond its collection, often treasured by collectors or sold at auctions. His real body of work could easily be three times larger than what’s catalogued. The sketches we have are enough to understand his methods: he drew effortlessly, almost as if transcribing what he already saw in his mind. Watching him in the 1950s was remarkable—each line flowed without hesitation or correction. For my father, creating automobiles wasn’t just work; it was genuine enjoyment, a pure expression of his passion and creative genius. His creative process was as original as it was direct. He never started with preliminary sketches or small-scale plans. Everything was in his mind, and his lines took form directly at a 1:1 scale, ready for realisation. This aspect made his creations authentic and distinctive. I had the privilege of witnessing the drafting of his “piani di forma” (shape plans) at a 1:1 scale, without ever starting with preliminary sketches or smaller-scale designs. His ideas were born fully formed in his mind and were directly transferred to technical drawings, complete with all necessary views: side, top, front, and rear. These drawings were intended for the construction of the wooden model and the subsequent shaping of the prototype, including sections and mechanical details. The "Piano di Forma" was a large-scale drawing, typically 5-6 meters long and about 1.5 meters high, gridded every 20 cm – and every 10 cm in more complex sections. It depicted the profiles and sections of the car’s outer bodywork, including the side view and, overlaid, the top view, with half of the front and rear views placed on either side of the main lines. This tool contained all the information and lines necessary for modelers to build the wooden prototype, used for shaping the metal sheets, as well as to design the equipment required for assembling the shaped panels created by the sheet metal workers. In addition to the main profiles, the Piano di Forma also detailed the mechanisms, such as the linkages for door handles, window regulators, retractable headlights, and the hinges for doors, the hood, and the trunk. In essence, this drawing served as the foundation for constructing the complete car prototype. I saw him use any available tool, from pencils to felt-tips, brushes to ballpoint pens, on any type of surface he could find—tracing paper, cardboard, or drafting film—without ever erasing a line. For him, both the tool and the surface were completely irrelevant: he would use any type of pencil, felt-tip pen, ink pen, or ballpoint, regardless of color. Similarly, he had no preference for the surface: white paper, the back of a sheet of packing paper, cardboard, a notepad, or any other available surface. In my archive, I keep sketches made on graph paper with ballpoints in various colors. He often drew on the white margins of the magazine La Settimana Enigmistica while solving a puzzle or completing a crossword grid. The one thing I never saw him use was an eraser: he never erased anything because his ideas were immediately clear and definitive. He didn’t like making changes and rarely felt the need to do so. The certainty with which he shaped his forms made his work instantly recognisable. I watched him create car forms with a disarming simplicity, in a timeframe so brief that it left me astonished. He drew exactly what was already in his mind, as though he were printing a snapshot of his thoughts. My father loved to set his cars within evocative contexts, giving each project life and character. His works reveal cars speeding alongside motorboats on rivers, models posed against American backdrops like the Lily Ann shop, and perspectives from circuits like LeMans or racecourses. He was capable of building a narrative around every car, enriching his figurines with details that brought them to life. This is one of the traits that made him unique: he was not just a designer but a visual storyteller. Giovanni Michelotti was a tireless seeker of new lines, driven by a constant need to innovate. For him, drawing knew no limits of time or place: every moment of the day and any available surface became opportunities to give shape to his ideas. It wasn’t uncommon for him, while working on a project commissioned by a client, to add a sketch inspired by a sudden intuition. A striking example of this spontaneous creativity is the image below, which depicts the Triumph 2000/2500 second series. This drawing was created in an entirely unique way: he made it during a Sunday evening TV broadcast on Rai, aired before dinner, which commented on the first half of a recently concluded football match. His work pace was relentless. Working in the evening and continuing late into the night was a routine for my father, as he was often busy during the day visiting clients or artisans who created wooden models or components destined for production. When he had his studio at Corso Francia 35, on the top attic floor, he would design on paper while simultaneously overseeing the creation of 1:5 scale plaster models, working directly alongside the modelers. In the various workshops he had set up over the years, he had a drafting table and a large vertical desk where he worked side by side with sheet metal workers, assemblers, wooden frame builders, and upholsterers. This allowed him to stay close to the bodywork process while continuing to draw, always maintaining a direct connection with production. Often, after the employees had left, he would stay for several hours to finish his projects. At home, dinner never began before 9:00 or 9:30 pm, as it was a tradition to dine together as a family, with very few exceptions, and my father never returned earlier than that. Despite the intense rhythm of his days, he never showed signs of fatigue: he had exceptional stamina, a strength and resilience that made it seem as though he never felt tired. By day, he would supervise the progress in Turin’s body shops, but at night, in the quiet of his studio, he allowed creativity to flow freely. He would spend whole nights drawing, producing up to five coloured figurines in a single session, accompanied by the radio, a glass of whisky, and a couple of sandwiches. I can still picture him whistling between strokes, fully immersed in his world, building what, to him, was already a complete car. By morning, his colleagues would find the finished drawing hanging on the drafting board, ready for modelling. A quick splash of water to wake up, a shave, and he would start again, enjoying his work immensely—just him and his cars, exactly as he envisioned and dreamed them. In the photo above, Giovanni Michelotti was captured in his design studio one morning after a night of intense work creating nearly life-size renderings. These detailed drawings were prepared for presentation to the engineering teams at British Leyland, showcasing his tireless dedication and passion for automotive design. One of his personal trademarks was the arc he often drew at the top of some figurines, almost as an implicit signature, a sign of approval. It was his way of saying, "All right, it’s finished now." One of the figurines dearest to me is that of the Reliant Scimitar SS1 Spider. It was the last project he managed to complete before his illness forced him to stop. That drawing, created in the summer of 1979, symbolises, to me, a life wholly dedicated to design and stands as a testament to his unwavering dedication. My father's work is not only a tribute to the automotive world but also a window into his way of seeing and living design. Every line he traced spoke of his passion and his confidence: he never drew to find an idea but to show it exactly as he saw it. And in each confident stroke lay all the spontaneity of a man who had no doubts about what he wanted to create. Another example of Giovanni Michelotti's creativity is the colored figurine shown above, crafted using tempera on blue Canson paper. This artwork was created for a project presentation to Luigi Chinetti, the owner of the N.A.R.T. (North American Racing Team) based in Connecticut. The illustration showcases the car in a ¾ front view, emphasizing its dynamic lines and unique character, a testament to Michelotti's ability to blend technical precision with artistic expression. Today, years later, Giovanni Michelotti’s work continues to be studied and admired in the world of automotive design. My father demonstrated that the value of an idea lies in the clarity with which it takes shape—immediate and spontaneous, without second thoughts. This is what renders his name immortal, a symbol of authentic creativity in the automotive landscape. 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.

Ing. Marmiroli this time introduces us to a unique chapter of Lamborghini's history: the brand's adventures not on land, but at sea. The story follows Automobili Lamborghini’s venture into the world of powerboat racing, supplying their iconic 12-cylinder engines to superboats competing for world titles. From Ferruccio Lamborghini’s personal "Aquarama" motorboat to world championship wins, it's a fascinating tale of speed, innovation, and passion beyond the racetrack. Words Luigi Marmiroli Photography Courtesy of Luigi Marmiroli Archive Italy’s most famous encyclopaedia, Treccani, defines the term speed as the “rate of movement of a body over a distance in a given time". It does not specify if this movement is on land or on sea. So I’m sure that our “Speedholics” will enjoy this story of speed without wheels. The story relates to the marine activities of Automobili Lamborghini, which passed smoothly from competition supercars to superboats. For around twenty years, from 1987 to 2000, the company supplied its famous 12-cylinder engines to various teams, often coupled to an unusual and innovative gear to optimise the rpm of the boats’ propellers. But allow me to digress for a moment: the World Powerboat Championship was and remains a world offshore motorboat championship, consisting in a series of Grand Prix boat races in open sea. The Class 1 boats were driven by a pair of engines and achieved maximum speeds above 250 km/h (160 miles/hour). Chosen at the team’s discretion, the engines could be twelve or eight cylinders and powered by petrol or diesel. All the boats had to have a minimum weight. The philosophy was very similar to that of the Formula 1 GPs. Performance had to be maximised through continuous research into aerodynamics and fluid dynamics, innovative materials, engine development and appropriate propulsion studies. The crew was formed by at least a pilot and a co-pilot. One at the helm and the other at the throttles (one for each engine) that controlled the boat acceleration. The boats were divided into two classes: mono-hulls and catamarans. The drawing here explains the difference. Originally the races were mainly organised over offshore routes with long stretches in open sea. Thereafter, the routes went along the coast to offer the greater visibility demanded by the sponsors. This also made rescue operations quicker in the event of incidents or breakdowns. Back to our story..... everything began when in 1967 the founder Ferruccio Lamborghini ordered an “Aquarama” motorboat from the famous company Riva, but had the normal engines replaced with two Lamborghini V12 engines that had already been mounted on the company’s first cars: 350 GTVs. The motorboat immediately achieved very high speeds and its beauty, assured by the use of wood and a curved windscreen, made it an icon in the sector, and was even used by numerous VIPs and actors during their holidays. The wooden models of a large V12 engine with a huge engine capacity - almost 8000 cc - were lying on the shelves of a dusty warehouse. When I joined Lamborghini, I was told that the founder Ferruccio had wanted the engine to be mounted on a large sedan that was to compete with US cars and the English Rolls Royce, but I have never been able to confirm this story. Patrik Mimran, a shareholder at the time, saw that the engine was too big and had the lucky idea of recovering them for use on competition power boats. The first pair of engines were mounted on a boat that, by chance, was called “Miura”, built by Cantieri Riuniti in Viareggio and which successfully competed in the Italian and world championships. One of the following projects was the AXESS Quetzal, the first all-Lamborghini power boat launched in 1984. The 39-foot craft, powered by two Lamborghini V12 engines with modified carburettor, reached a maximum speed of 65 knots. And here I should underline that these Lamborghini engines had to be absolutely reliable. As you can well imagine, breaking down in a boat on the open sea is very different from breaking down on the motorway. The working conditions of nautical engines are very different and cannot be compared to those of a car. Especially when the weather conditions are favourable and the sea is calm, these engines are used at maximum power for much longer than car engines. In Formula 1 GPs, the engine maintains maximum power for a few tenths of a second, but in Offshore GPs for dozens of minutes at a time. The Lamborghini engines continued to be developed, passing from the carburettor version to one with mechanical fuel injection and finally electronic injection, and this is why the results came quickly with Walter Ragazzi and Renato della Valle. In 1987 the L804V4 engine project began to take shape. It was built entirely in light alloy, with 12 cylinders, 4 valves per cylinder and 880 HP at 6800 rpm. The materials used offered incredible resistance to thermal shocks and even to the typical corrosion of the sea water used to cool the engines. After 88 wins, national, European and international titles, on 25 November 1994 the last world championship race was held in Dubai. The whole world was charmed by Norberto Ferretti and Luca Ferrari's super boat called Giesse Philosophy, which after a season of brilliant successes won the World Class 1 Offshore Title bearing the Italian flag. The two powerful Lamborghini L804 V12 engines played a key role in this victory. The winning series of Lamborghini engines mounted on various boats with different pilots and international teams continued until 2007 with a dozen World Championship victories. In open sea, in any condition, the speed of the boat, often flying over the water, offered a full charge of adrenalin. If you don't believe me, listen to what a man who made speed his life - and unfortunately also his death - had to say. Yes, Ayrton Senna. Invited by Ferretti to try out the GIESSE catamaran powerboat, he said that it was a wonderful experience and was sorry that the sea had been so flat on that day. He praised the smooth handling of the craft and the progressive speed obtained as he lowered the throttles with his own hands. He was amazed by the sound of the two Lamborghini engines, which really gave an impression of power. This was all told very well in an article published in the journal Power in 1984, with a few pictures taken by Domenico Pirazzoli. Luigi Marmiroli was born in Fiorano Modenese in 1945. After graduating in mechanical engineering at the University of Padua, in 1970 he was hired by Ferrari to introduce electronic computing to Maranello for the first time. In 1976 he founded Fly Studio with Giacomo Caliri, designing and managing competition cars on international circuits. Their main works were for Fittipaldi Copersucar, Autodelta, ATS and Minardi, with whom they joined forces. The developments in the partnership with Autodelta led Marmiroli to manage the technical unit of the Euroracing team in 1983. Two years later he was hired by Lamborghini to design the heir of the Countach. Other projects came after the 17 versions of the Diablo, though due to the continuing changes of ownership of the Sant’Agata based company, they were never put into production. Marmiroli relaunched Fly Studio in 1997, providing consulting services. One of the projects of the last few years is the development of microcars, quadbikes and commercial vehicles, including electric versions.

In 1949, Giovanni Michelotti embarked on his freelance career, marking the beginning of a successful journey in automotive design. With the establishment of the "Laboratorio Automodelli" in Turin in 1959, he created a hub of innovation that would give rise to legendary prototypes. Architect Edgardo Michelotti sheds light on this pivotal moment in Carrozzeria Michelotti’s history and its impact on the automotive world . Words Edgardo Michelotti Photos and drawings Archivio Storico Michelotti (http://www.archiviostoricomichelotti.it/) I had the privilege of witnessing the most significant years of my father Giovanni Michelotti’s career up close, and I am here to recount a crucial moment that marked his professional evolution: the founding of his coachbuilding firm. Reflecting on those years and revisiting the drawings of the vehicles created during that time constantly reaffirms for me how essential that period was—not just for our family but for the entire automotive design world. After twelve years working at Stabilimenti Farina (1936-1948), where he honed his craft and learned the importance of detail, in 1949 he made a life-altering decision: to embark on an independent career as a freelance designer. He was just 28 years old but already had a clear vision of what he wanted to achieve. Over the next fifteen years, he collaborated with nearly all of Turin's coachbuilders—a city that, during the 1950s and '60s, was the epicentre of automotive innovation. I recall his discussions with the great names of the era, where they would spend hours talking about shapes, curves, and aerodynamic solutions. Michelotti had a deep affection for Turin, a city that provided him with the challenges and opportunities he needed to express his creativity. In 1957, he experienced a major turning point. He began working as a consultant for leading international car manufacturers such as BMW, Standard Triumph, Prince, Ford, and Alpine. Not long after, in 1965, the Dutch company DAF also joined his client list, which I will cover in a future article. He wasn’t content with simply creating something beautiful; he focused on functional, modern solutions that appealed to international tastes. It was during this time that he realised the importance of having dedicated spaces for developing prototypes destined for major manufacturers. Previously, these projects were entrusted to trusted coachbuilders like Vignale and Allemano, but there was always the risk that his designs could be seen and copied. He decided to open his own "Laboratorio Automodelli" at Via Levanna 2 in Turin. This workshop, staffed by seven master craftsmen, became a nerve centre for creativity and innovation. Each team member had a specific role: panel beaters, welders, and assemblers worked in synergy to bring the designer's ideas to life. It was a space dedicated to creating prototypes for discerning clients who aspired to "stand out" with special vehicles. That same year, he also relocated his design and styling studio from our family home on Corso Duca degli Abruzzi to a penthouse on the eleventh floor of a building on Corso Francia—a space that offered both privacy and a perfect environment for work. From his studio, he enjoyed breathtaking views of the entire Alpine range surrounding Piedmont, a panorama often mentioned in his conversations as a source of reflection and inspiration. The studio quickly became one of the most important in Europe, attracting interest from car manufacturers seeking innovative and functional solutions. My father loved sharing his passion with young talent, encouraging them to experiment and bring their ideas to life in an environment where learning and creativity naturally intertwined. Under his guidance, embryonic concepts, colourful sketches, and shape plans took form and transformed into complete automotive projects. In his atelier, prototypes that would shape automotive history were born, the result of a collaborative and inspired creative process. One of the most significant prototypes produced during those years was the Fiat Osca coupé, presented at the Paris Motor Show in 1959 and at Geneva in 1960. The car, with its modern front and "pagoda" roof, became a reference for many manufacturers. The Lancia Fulvia coupé, designed by Piero Castagnero in 1963, borrowed many stylistic elements from the Osca, while the Mercedes 230 SL, with its pagoda roof, unveiled that same year at the Geneva Motor Show, confirmed the success of Michelotti’s innovation. My father often recounted an episode linked to the Osca Coupé: French journalist Alain Bertaut initially criticised the roof design, but Michelotti made a deal with him. If other manufacturers adopted the design, Bertaut would publicly acknowledge Michelotti as the originator. And so it happened—Mercedes adopted the pagoda style, and Bertaut kept his promise. It was a time when intellectual honesty still held great value. Another important chapter in his career was marked by his involvement in racing. During the 1960s, track and hill-climb racing was highly popular, and my father contributed to the creation of models like the Triumph Le Mans coupé and the Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint Veloce, both prepared by Virgilio Conrero. I clearly remember Carlo Peroglio, the driver of the latter, telling us about his feats at Monza, where the Alfa Romeo, mainly driven by Peroglio, surpassed the Alfa Abarth Zagato at a speed of 222 km/h. This success did not go unnoticed: Carlo Abarth called my father in and asked him what he had "put inside" the car to make it so fast. The answer was clear and direct—it was all down to aerodynamics and lightness. Among the most significant collaborations with Triumph, in addition to defining the style of some of the brand’s most iconic models, such as the Spitfire, Herald, and TR4, an important chapter was the creation of the Le Mans coupé, a model developed specifically for endurance racing. This car represented the perfect synthesis of elegance and performance—qualities that Michelotti masterfully combined. Michelotti never ceased to innovate. Another example of his genius was the prototype on a Maserati 5000 GT chassis created for Briggs Cunningham. The retractable pop-up headlights were a true innovation for the time, once again demonstrating his ability to anticipate automotive design trends. Today, these vehicles remain in the hands of collectors in Switzerland and the United States, and they are still fully functional. The exhibition "Giovanni Michelotti: Genie et Élégance," held in Aigle, Switzerland, in 2022, paid tribute to the centenary of his birth. The Alfa Romeo Conrero, one of the models on display, still stands as a testament to his ability to create cars that harmoniously combined beauty and performance. About tha 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.

The story, known previously to only a handful, of an Alfa Romeo test driver and racer who walked away from the sport directly after winning the Italian and European titles in one of the most prestigious car championships. Words by Mario Simoni. Photos by Centro Documentazione Alfa Romeo , Foto Alquati Milano , Quattroruote, Leone Pelachin Archive, Mario Simoni Archive. From 1976 to 1983, hundreds of skilled drivers participated in the Alfa Romeo Promotional Trophy – a series of races held on circuits across half of Europe. In those championships, two young drivers who later rose to Formula 1 fame took part, the Spaniard Luis Perez Sala and the even more famous Gerhard Berger. Monza, Imola, Zeltweg, Nürburgring, Paul Ricard, Zandvoort, and Hockenheim were just some of the racetracks. In front of hundreds of thousands of Formula 1 spectators, real battles took place in the pursuit of the Alfasud and Alfa Sprint Continental Titles. Of those drivers duking it out, Leone Pelachin – in his Alfa Romeo – always stood out for his sportsmanship and gentlemanliness. These were the years in which Alfa Romeo regained its prestige in the world of racing thanks to the skill of a great technician like engineer Chiti and the capabilities of a racing team like Autodelta. In 1975, it had just won the World Championship for Makes with the 33TT12 and entered Formula 1, supplying its 12-cylinder engine to Brabham from '76 to '79. Also in 1979, Alfa returned to the World Championship as a constructor, where it remained as a team until 1983. The awareness that competitions were the best business card to win over sports clientele led, in those years, to focusing on a racing version of the best-selling and most popular Alfa Romeo sedan, the Alfasud. Thus, in 1976, the Alfasud Trophy was born, reserved for the racing version of the coupé birthed in ‘72 by Rudolf Hruschka – one of the most skilled technicians in automotive history who had started his career at Porsche and Cisitalia. In Hruschka’s Alfasud project, a sporting soul was imbued in the compact two-volume sedan, equipped with an excellent front-wheel-drive chassis (the first in Quadrifoglio's history) and a 4-cylinder boxer engine capable of optimizing weight distribution, but above all with great potential for sporting use. For the engineers at Autodelta, tasked with developing the kit that would transform the comfortable Alfasud into a real racing car, the task was not the most challenging. There are few drivers who, without a "father" or a sponsor behind them, have managed to reach Formula 1. Among them, it's worth mentioning Consalvo Sanesi and the great Lorenzo Bandini, who went from being a simple mechanic to an unlucky Ferrari driver. The real major hindrance to Leone Pelachin's career, besides his family, was the handicap of starting racing at the age of thirty, when the careers of many drivers are already on the decline. Not so much for physical or skill reasons, as demonstrated by the successes of "grandfathers" like Alonso at 42 and Hamilton at 39, but also the incredible career of Nuvolari, who at over fifty risked winning the Mille Miglia twice. But Leone Pelachin had all the strength and desire to continue racing and winning at 35, and that farewell at the peak of his career and the dream of a lifetime must have been the most difficult moment after years of success. MS: Leone, did you never think about starting racing until you were thirty? LP: I'd always had a passion for cars and racing, but I never thought I would have the chance to race on the track. In reality, I wanted to be a tester. Racing was a dream that came true when I realized I was really good at driving, but before reaching that point, I had to cover tens of thousands of kilometers, first on the roads and then on the Balocco track with Alfa Romeo models under development. It was at Balocco that I truly learned to drive: hundreds of accelerations from a standstill, top speeds, recoveries, special tests with all the prototypes of Alfa production cars, always collaborating with the designers from Arese, including engineer Felisa, who later became CEO and Managing Director of Ferrari and Aston Martin. But before becoming ‘good’, how many mistakes, how many breakdowns, how many accidents... Fortunately, never with any consequences. MS: How did you go from being a simple mechanic to a tester for Alfa Romeo? LP : At 14, I started as a mechanic in a workshop in Rho, just a stone's throw away from Arese, but my dream was to work at Alfa Romeo. So, in 1969, after my military service, I applied and was hired as an engine/carburettor technician. I was already capable of dismantling and reassembling an engine by myself, and I enjoyed that work. After not even a year in the experimental department at Arese, my dream increasingly became to become a tester. The desire was so strong that I asked my workshop head every day to be transferred to that department, and after being told "no" a hundred times, he finally said, "Okay, if you really want to, try it..." The test went well, and so, after covering almost 100,000 km in less than a year on the roads of Lombardy, along the Apennines, and over the Alpine passes to test the new Alfa models, the big day arrived. The chief tester called me and said, "Pelachin is doing well, from Monday he goes to Balocco track." I'll never forget that day. It was as if the gates of Heaven had opened. I could have cried tears of happiness! MS: And how did you find Balocco? What cars did you drive? LP: I drove all the production models from that period, from the Alfa 6 to the Montreal to the Alfasud. But my main task was to develop and verify tires for the new models before putting them into production. We conducted endless tests, especially at night, to avoid being photographed by "prototype hunters," and of course, we drove a lot on wet surfaces. That's how I became a true expert in driving in the rain, as seen in the wet races of the Trophy. Among the testers, there was also a sort of time challenge on the Balocco lap, and after a while, I was the fastest of all, both on dry and wet tracks. At first, no one believed it, until I had to compete for a series of tests – first with my chief tester Bruno Bonini, whom I "defeated" driving an Alfetta prototype, then with the head of all the Balocco testers, Guido Moroni, who at the end of the tests with a GTV 2000 declared, "It's right that the apprentice goes faster than the master." There was also a tester from Autodelta, as well as a driver in the World Championship for Makes, who once, invited to a challenge with me by the head of the Balocco timekeepers, preferred to turn down the invite. Who knows, afraid of being beaten maybe? MS: In the many tests you conducted, is there one you'll never forget? LP: The most incredible of all was driving the Montreal: a "speed test" from Reggio Calabria to Lubeck. From the extreme south to the extreme north of Europe in just 20 hours with the Montreal. It was a report published by the magazine Quattroruote with the title "See you tonight in Lubeck". It was 1972 and there were no speed limits then, and the traffic was a whole different story, but there were still customs checks, and some sections of the Salerno-Reggio Calabria and Brenner motorways were missing. What we did with two Montreals, myself and the tester Francesco Brignoli in one, and the journalist Bruno Bonetto and the chief tester Bruno Bonini in the other Montreal, is truly incredible and unrepeatable. It's almost 2,600 km, so we maintained an average speed of over 130 km/h! Today, no one, with any car in the world, could beat that record. All thanks to the Montreal which, with the 200 hp of its V8, exceeded 220 km/h and, in addition to demonstrating great road qualities, never had any problems throughout the entire journey. MS: In the early Seventies, the development of the Alfasud was in full swing. How was it going? What was its development like? LP: From the first tests, when we drove with the entire body camouflaged, almost like a van, the Alfasud performed very well, and we never had major problems. When the Golf came out, which was considered the most direct competitor, we compared it extensively at Balocco with ours. We were superior in everything, especially in road behavior and steering functionality, not to mention the engine and performance: our 1200 boxer engine clearly outperformed Volkswagen's 1100 and 1300. There was also an Alfasud that no one ever saw and that was on the verge of going into production, but even after our tests, it was rejected. MS: What model was it, and what happened? Were there other Alfas that you tested but never made it into production? LP: It was the Sprint Spider, designed by Giugiaro alongside the sedan and coupe, which in some ways resembled the Fiat X1/9, with the large roll bar and removable roof. It was intended for the American market, but due to the investment required and the design that didn't convince, it remained on standby. The final blow came from our tests at Balocco on the cobbles: it was found that the chassis couldn't withstand the stress, it tended to flex and therefore needed to be modified and strengthened. That was the verdict that definitively ended the project. Among the engines we tested but never made it into production was the 2-liter, 16-valve, 4-cylinder engine of the Alfetta GTV. It was an excellent engine, Alfa Romeo's first production engine with 4 valves per cylinder. It generated over 150 hp and was responsive, but for some reason, it was decided not to continue its development. Another engine we tested in our cars was the Wankel, also being developed by NSU and Mazda at the time: I don't remember if that was one of the rotary prototypes produced at Arese or if it was of Mazda origin. The engine was powerful, but we immediately saw that in terms of noise, fuel consumption, and reliability, it was a step backward rather than forward. Moreover, it had another serious flaw, the lack of engine braking, which put a strain on the braking system and did not provide confidence when driving at the limit. MS: So we come to the end of 1977, when you decided to start racing. What happened? Who helped you, who gave you the car? LP: Actually, I had already done a few races in '75 and '76, but in rallycross with the 2 CV. The first year had few races and many breakdowns, but by the end of the second year, I was in contention until the last race to win the Italian championship, but I came second. Almost everyone at Balocco knew about my desire to race, including Giorgio Francia who in '77, in addition to competing in the World Championship for Makes with the 33 TT/12, had been hired as a tester for Autodelta. We often met during breaks at Balocco. That's how he said to me, almost jokingly, "But didn't you want to be a driver?" Without hesitation, I replied, "Where? With whom? With what?" He told me that the SPECAR dealership in La Spezia had a car for the Trophy but wasn't satisfied with its driver and was looking for a new one. So if I wanted to try... MS: Speaking of Autodelta, the Alfa Romeo cars prepared for racing, including the F.1 and the 33 for the World Championship for Makes designed by engineer Chiti, were often tested at Balocco. Did you ever manage to try them? LP: I would have liked to, indeed! But, for some reason, I was never in the good graces of Teodoro Zeccoli, the head of Autodelta's testers, and I never managed to get close to those cars. In fact, once, in 1980, Zeccoli, acting as a technical commissioner at the Imola track, did me a disservice by disqualifying me for a minor irregularity, which seemed deliberately done to diminish my championship victory. But that's another story.. Actually, once, in the absence of Zeccoli and Chiti, who would never have given permission despite my successes with the Alfasud, I managed to convince Manfredini, the head mechanic at Autodelta, to let me try the F.1. It was Giacomelli's Alfa 179 race car, and a few days later, there was the French Grand Prix at Le Castellet. They let me do three laps, but... if I had broken something, I wouldn't have been able to set foot in Balocco or Alfa Romeo again! It was a mix of joy and fear! At 160 mph on the straight, if you accelerated a bit too much, you felt all 500 hp of the naturally aspirated V12 unloading onto the rear, causing it to hint at slipping, while in the corners, it felt like being on a rail, but only up to the limit I had set for myself to reach. After that, it's better not to know. MS: So you made it to Formula 1, congratulations! Even if it was just for three laps! But let's go back to the beginning of your career when you had your first test with the Alfasud Trophy. LP: The pivotal moment of my career was at the Varano racetrack, where the dealer Piero Simoncini had decided to assess my skills, given that I had never been on a track and had never driven a race car. I didn't know Varano or the Trofeo, but despite that, I wasn't worried at all; I was truly confident in my driving abilities! MS: And how did it go? LP: Simoncini and his workshop manager were satisfied with the performance and said to me, "Okay, let's go, if you agree." I replied, "For me, that's fine, as long as I don't have to incur any expenses because I really wouldn't know how to manage." For this reason, we didn't have any other winter tests until the beginning of the Trophy, and we had to skip some races during the season, including the first one at Mugello. So, here we were at Monza, on April 23, 1978, for the debut, and it was a debut with a "bang"... in every sense of the word! MS: What happened? LP: We arrived at Monza with all the top teams who had already tested extensively on that track, which I didn't know, and at the end of the official practices, I was in the top five, just 17 hundredths off the pole position. Some of the more established drivers started wondering, "Who's that guy, never heard of him, and he comes in and goes faster than us who have been racing in the Trophy for two years!" Meanwhile, Autosprint’s headline the following Monday read, "An Alfa Tester Unleashed." On race day, my first impression, at the start, was, "are these guys all crazy?" I didn't know where to look; I was in the middle of a real "battle," with cars touching, pushing, and banging doors. When we got to the first chicane, I said to myself, "well, if that's how it is, I'll play the fool too," and I threw myself into the mix: and so began my racing career. In the heat, after starting on the front row, I was leading the race in the penultimate lap when I was overtaken by two other Alfasuds. They collided at Ascari and spun right in front of me: I couldn't do anything but hit them, and so, after turning the nose of my Trofeo into a "wedge," I had to retire. Fortunately, the dealer understood that it wasn't my fault, and since I also set the fastest overall lap time among the Alfasuds, he said to me, "It's not a problem, let's continue!" MS: And did it go better at the second race? LP: Not entirely. We were at Varano in May, and there too, I was among the best in practice. I started on pole in my heat, but on the first lap, I was pushed from behind, sending me into a spin: I hit a couple of Alfasuds, and so I found myself off the track, stopped in the middle of the grass. I unbuckled my seat belts and tried to get out to see the damage to the car, but the door wouldn't open. So, I buckled up again and... I restarted like a madman! I set the fastest lap time, and at the end of the heat, I was fourth, qualifying for the final! In the final, I then achieved my best result of the debut season, finishing fifth. MS: So the rest of the season didn't go as you hoped? LP: Actually, we only planned to compete in five or six races, and even though I didn't achieve any other results, I managed to gain some satisfaction. In the second race at Varano in June, I won my heat, setting the fastest lap time. At Misano, I secured pole position in the official practices, while in the only race of the Trofeo Europa that I participated in at Le Castellet, I qualified sixth and finished the race in fifteenth place. MS: Not bad for a rookie. So, were you able to get an Alfasud Trofeo for the 1979 championship? LP: Yes, SPECAR dealership confirmed me, and finally, the first victory came at Monza in my seasonal debut, in the third race of the Trophy! It was a head-to-head battle with Sigala which finished in a sprint finish – a win by just a few centimeters! During the championship, I won my heat at Varano, Misano, and Mugello, but due to several retirements and skipping some races, I didn't go beyond fourteenth place in the Trophy standings. However, the tuner Bigazzi, who assisted my car and Bertolini's, managed to win the preparers' cup. MS: So, we come to 1980, the year of the championship victory. Was it all easy? LP: Almost, although there were some problems and mishaps. The car, always prepared by Bigazzi, was perfect at the beginning of the championship, so much so that I won the first four races of the championship. But at Mugello, it didn't seem the same anymore, while my teammate Bertolini's car was flying. We had this feeling or impression that the tuner favored him, so the owner of the SPECAR dealership for which I raced decided to leave Bigazzi and switch to another team, Luicar. Immediately, things returned to normal. With two more victories at Magione and Misano: the Trofeo Alfasud was mine! But at Magione, a couple of incidents made me think that someone wanted to prevent me from winning: leaving the car in a workshop the night before the race, we found it with a loosened cylinder head cap, as if they had tried to make the engine run out of water during the race. Fortunately, we noticed the ‘sabotage’, and in the final, after winning the heat, I found myself with a significant lead in the last lap. It seemed done, but a backmarker cut me off and gave me a push that almost sent me spinning. I managed to keep the car in control somehow and finished the race more than 5 seconds ahead of Calamai. Was it the backmarker's mistake or a deliberate maneuver? I'm still wondering. MS: In 1981, the national championships gave way to the Trofeo Europa, which was even more thrilling with 10 races, half of which were concurrent with the Formula 1 Grand Prix. How did it go? LP: Well, I can tell you that I finished ahead of Gerhard Berger in the championship that year, as he began his leap into Formula 1 and Ferrari. I, always racing for Luicar, won at Imola, and he won at Zeltweg, but the season's dominant driver was Rinaldo Drovandi. We only finished sixth and seventh. Ahead of us was also a young man from Ferrara, Renato Croce, who could have really made it to Formula 1. But instead... At Monza, in the final race, he won, racing alongside Drovandi with the Alfasud prepared by Bigazzi for Autolodi. The owners of the Lodi dealership called me at the end of the season to offer me a car for the 1982 Trophy, which would no longer be contested with the Alfasud but with the Alfa Sprint. However, there was a big problem: my departure from the Bigazzi team in 1980. It hadn't gone down well with the Tuscan tuner, and he immediately demanded my apologies for doubting his integrity. MS: So, did you "apologize" and manage to join the strongest team in the Trophy? LP:  Needless to say, I apologized to Bigazzi for ‘thinking badly’, but in reality, some doubts always remained… His team was indeed the strongest. Besides me and Croce for Autolodi, the Bigazzi team fielded three Alfa Sprints for the Spaniards Villamil, Emilio Zapico, and Luis Perez Sala, another guy who managed to make it to Formula 1. It was an exciting Trophy: just over halfway through the season, Croce and I were leading with two victories each, but despite this and the many battles we had on the track, there was a good relationship – respect in the race and friendship in life, even though he often said to me, "You're not Leone, you're a Volpone." So we arrived at the last two races with almost the same points. At Monza, I won, after risking going off the track several times. Meanwhile, Croce, after colliding with Drovandi, driving the third car fielded by Autolodi, damaged his Alfa Sprint and lost many positions. Then he went off the track trying to get back to the front of the race. That incident, which I believe was entirely unintentional however, marked Renato Croce's fate. He felt like a victim of a plot and suffered dramatically from the so-called ‘injustice’ he’d been dealt. There was still one race to go, and everything was still to be decided. Croce and I were the favorites, but the Spaniard Emilio Zapico was right behind us. And we were racing in Spain, where a real bullfight awaited us. A bullfight indeed. It began right away, with Renato Croce getting involved in the starting melee and finding himself at the back of the pack. He launched an incredible comeback, gaining fifteen positions, but he couldn't do better than eighth place. I, as Croce would have said, like a true "fox," focused mainly on securing the result, I didn't attempt any heart-stopping overtakes and settled for third place. But the victory in the Trofeo Europa was mine! MS: For the winner of the Trophy, the Alfetta GTV 6 2.5 was at stake, which was worth almost 30 million lire. Didn't you think about racing in F.3 with the winnings? LP: Actually, the GTV went to Autolodi and the team. I was left with just a ‘tip’! The agreement was that I wouldn't have any expenses, but all the prizes went to the team, except for some ‘pocket money’ for me. I didn't have the economic means to move up to a formula car, while the Trophy I was asked to leave unless I wanted to lose the chance to continue working in Alfa Romeo's sports activities. The desire to race was still strong, but I had to let reason win over passion. MS: So, did you hang up your helmet for good? And what happened to Croce, your great rival that year? LP: Yes, I hung up the helmet, but not forever. Ten years passed, and at 45 I returned to the track with the Alfa 33 Group A, immediately winning the first race at Misano. From '92 to 2000, I competed in many touring car races in Group A and N championships and returned to win several times. But if I won the lottery today, I'd return to the track immediately, and I'm sure many wouldn't be ahead of me. Renato Croce, on the other hand, in the winter of '82 tried the Alfa Romeo-powered F.3, but he also decided to return to racing with the Sprint in 1983. He arrived at Imola for the trials of the first Trophy race, which was won by Calamai ahead of Sala. But something had changed in him. Partly due to the disappointment of the previous year, but above all it was because of a parasite that had begun growing in him – drugs. Unfortunately, he didn't even start the race at Imola, and a few months later he lost his most important race – the one for life. About the author, Mario Simoni .   Cars, racing, and journalism have always been among my passions. I am among the few fortunate ones to have turned my passions into a lifelong career. And all this almost by chance, through a series of fortunate circumstances that have led me to write these pages about the life of a driver and tester like Leone Pelachin. I also began my career as a driver, but at 23, competing for two seasons in the Renault 5 Cup. However, while my financial resources were similar to those of the "Champion Without a Suitcase", my driving abilities were evidently different. Thus, after a couple of spectacular accidents and no significant results, I hung up my helmet... but not forever. It was Alfa Romeo itself that called me back to the track, at Imola in 1982, to compete in a race of the Alfa Sprint Trophy, the one won by Pelachin in a photo finish against Renato Croce. In reality, I had been called not so much as a driver but as a journalist, to recount to Autosprint readers the thrills, emotions, and driving sensations behind the wheel of the Sprint Trophy. But let's take a step back: at the end of the seventies, I began my career as a journalist in the automotive sector for a minor magazine, until in 1981 I started collaborating with Autosprint, writing among other things about promotional championships, such as the Alfasud Trophy. An undeniable passion for Alfa also led me to propose a competition in Autosprint to entrust a young driver with a Sprint Trophy for the '82 season: and the main selector in the final test at the Balocco track naturally had to be Leone Pelachin. In those two unforgettable seasons with the Sprint, I admired and recounted all the duels and battles on European tracks, becoming friends with almost all the protagonists of the Trophy. My career then continued, leaving racing to move on to production cars in the editorial staff of the monthly magazine Auto, where for almost thirty years I tested every type of car and authored investigations, tests, travel stories, and scoops on upcoming releases from automotive manufacturers. In the meantime, I also wrote a book about Alfa Romeo spiders and two about another of my life's passions, Cisitalia.

A journey through history, with legends, brown bears, phantasmagorical fountains and a picturesque river. And the charming Alps less than an hour’s drive away Words Alessandro Giudice Photography Alessandro Barteletti Video Andrea Ruggeri and Anthony Egas 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 Bern Route from Bern to Gurnigel Distance 36 km Travel time 1h Driving pleasure 4/5 Panorama 4/5 An enchanting place, a human-sized city steeped in history and a territory dominated by a generous nature, made of rivers, lakes and spectacular mountain peaks. This is Bern and the canton of the same name, capital of the Swiss Confederation and one of the destinations we chose for our Swiss Grand Tour driving some of the greatest classic Alfa Romeos. This is the turn of the Giulietta Sprint Speciale, a model designed by Bertone, which certainly does not go unnoticed with its aerodynamic lines that became a benchmark between the 1950s and ‘60s when it made its début on the market. [click to watch the video] Putting the car at our disposal for this itinerary was Serge Stotzer, owner of the Oldtimer Galerie in Toffen, to the south of Bern, a leading company in the organisation of classic car auctions. We arranged to meet Serge in Klösterlistutz, a fairly large and easy-to-reach area in east Bern. From here we headed for the historical centre, across the Nideggbrücke, one of the many bridges crossing the River Aar, which is an integral part of Bern. Precisely at this point, a large bend in the river has turned the area into a kind of peninsula, where the first settlement originated. And, talking of origins, before the bridge you will come across the Bärengraben, the “Bear Pit”, the city zoo’s home for three brown bears, considered not only a lucky charm for the people from Bern but is also the symbol found on the city’s coat of arms. A few hundred yards from Bärengraben, a panoramic terrace overlooks the architectural structure of the Nideggbrücke, with its three bays, and the rooftops of the old town and the surrounding river. Crossing the bridge, you enter the medieval centre, declared a UNESCO world heritage site in 1983: here it is worth avoiding the main traffic flow, which bends to the right to enter Kramgasse, straight ahead. This long, flag-decked road is lined with shops protected by the characteristic arcades of Bern, which boasts six kilometres of arcades that make it a place of choice for shopping in any weather. At the end of Kramgasse, the city’s most famous landmark and much-photographed tourist attraction, the Zytgloggem, a large tower housing the spectacular astronomical clock. Built in 1218 as a guard tower and used over the centuries as a prison, it was later adorned with gold-leaf decorations and the impressive Gothic spire. Before you reach the tower, in the middle of the road you will note a coloured column topped by a standing bear, wearing a golden helmet with a cub eating grapes sitting between its paws. This is one of the eleven allegorical fountains in the historical centre that make Bern famous throughout Switzerland, and just one of the 100 or so scattered around the city. Searching for them among the houses and squares is a favourite pastime for tourists. Strolling through the streets, you will find two religious buildings, the Cathedral devoted to Saints Peter and Paul, dating back to the mid-19th century, but particularly the protestant ‘Münster’ with a Gothic bell tower measuring over 100 metres high, which can be seen from anywhere in the city. Meanwhile, the compact, nippy Giulietta SS takes us through the city's medieval streets – where the ancient walls and cobbled streets reverberate with the powerful, dry roar of the four-cylinder engine – emerging in the bright, open spaces of the large Confederation Square. And here stands the magnificent Federal Palace, home to the Federal Council, the executive body of the Swiss Confederation government.   Before leaving Bern, a quick trip along the banks of the Aar is a must: stop in one of the many lively bars frequented by the university students for a snack or drink, to enjoy a different view of the old city. For instance, along the Dalmaziquai, which runs beneath the bridge of the same name, offering an attractive view of the rear of the Federal Palace. Another place not to be missed is the spectacular Zentrum Paul Klee, designed by Renzo Piano to house the artist's works.   Our next destination, as well as the point of arrival of our itinerary, is the Gurnigel Pass, 1600 metres above sea level in the Bernese Prealps. To reach it, we leave Bern from the same place we met Serge, heading south towards Belp. Passing the town, the landscape opens up offering views of boundless meadows set against the first Bernese peaks. In Toffen, we take a technical break at the Oldtimer Galerie, with its precious two- and four-wheel gems, and then start to climb towards Gurnigel.   The road is quite smooth, alternating short straight roads with wide bends through the mountain pastures. Reaching Riggisberg, a small municipality with 2500 inhabitants, we just have to stop at the Abegg-Stiftung Foundation, set up by the Zurich-based couple the Abeggs to conserve and promote an extraordinary collection of heritage fabrics, including a visit to their own villa and the artworks on show. For car enthusiasts, Riggisberg comes alive in early September each year with the “Gurnigel Bergrennen”, the 3.8 km hill climb race inaugurated in 1910 where the best Swiss and international drivers compete: this unmissable event attracts a 10,000-strong audience every year. Accompanied by the grit of a Stelvio Quadrifoglio, the Giulietta Sprint Speciale climbs quickly towards the pass along the road on the eastern slopes of the Selibüel. Pure driving pleasure, but unfortunately we have to reckon with a rather menacing sky. And indeed, in just a few minutes the sun makes way for torrential rain, though it seems that people are quite used to this round here. Having reached Grunigel and the end of our itinerary, we should make two considerations: the first in favour of the small Alfa Romeo, which was agile and easy to drive even in the pouring rain; the second in favour of the location which, although penalised by low clouds and limited visibility, concealing the view towards Lake Thun and the Fribourg Alps, has a charm that makes you want to return. We hope next time when the sun is shining. THE COLLECTOR: Serge Stotzer The "Giulietta SS" I have always loved Alfa Romeos, one of the first cars I drove was a 2003 GTV. This Bertone Giulietta Sprint Speciale was purchased in Switzerland on 7 September 1961 and it seems as if it has always been here. The 97 HP four-cylinder engine should really have more horsepower, with its original intake ducts designed by Virgilio Conrero, from 1963 the official Alfa Romeo engine manufacturer, also known as the “engine magician” due to his skill in increasing power output. In the mid-1990s, the SS was fully restored – mechanics, bodywork and interiors. In 2002 it was bought by an enthusiast who, in 2004, had a new drive shaft installed, along with new main bearings and new piston rings, with a complete overhaul of the cylinder head. Preparing it for its MOT, in 2016 it had a new tank, new silencers and an electronic ignition. I really enjoy driving it, even though, like many classic Alfas, the second gear is a little stiff. But it doesn't take long to get used to it. The Modern Alfas First, I should say that the last car that I think holds all the thrills of the brand is the 4C, so a car designed 11 years ago. It is not a modern Alfa Romeo but a future classic, with tonnes of personality, in both its design and its driving style. What I love about recent Alfas is the noise and the performance of the Giulia Quadrifoglio and Stelvio Quadrifoglio, excellent cars for everyday use and safe in any condition. Packed with electronics, they are easy for anyone to drive, despite their huge power output. They are very beautiful cars but they don’t offer the same thrills of a true sports Alfa Romeo like those of the past.