Marcello Gandini: A lifetime of automotive art

Another Espada predecessor and another influence upon its design was Gandini’s Lamborghini Marzal. Wow, what a car! This prototype appeared at the 1967 Geneva Motor Show with almost completely glass doors. Fascinating, futuristic, and inventive, the excitement of seeing the full interior from outside created a whole new aesthetic. The Marzal played on its strong graphics, right down to the triple headlamps and super-clean surfaces. It was the first time I became aware of how much stance mattered as its wide profile had wheels filling their arches. Then in 1968 he came up with the Alfa Romeo Carabo. Stunning! It was all about graphics and profile. Gandini was challenging the soft forms of 1960s Italian cars, forcing them to make way for sharper edges and more geometric graphics; it was Gandini’s way of upsetting the status quo.

Like Giugiaro, by the early ’70s he was experimenting with purer geometric surfaces and more angular forms. This design direction was often dubbed ‘origami design’, somewhat unfair as the surfaces were never totally flat. For Gandini this led to dramatic statements such as the Stratos HF Zero concept of 1970. How would I describe this car? I think ‘bloody amazing’ probably covers it. This was 54 years ago and I defy you to find something more modern, even today. To me it is one of the most beautiful objects of any kind ever created: so absolute in intent, such a visually striking form which left zero room for compromise at all. Perhaps that’s where the name came from…

A shape so pure it left no room for side doors, leaving occupants to climb in through the front. This was indeed creative ‘out of the box’ lateral thinking and I think it was this ability to break the rules while maintaining beauty that was one of Gandini’s key strengths. Doing different is relatively easy: doing different and beautiful is very hard indeed. This car, of course, led to the production Stratos with its Ferrari Dino engine, which only simulated the original in bodyside profile. However, it was still a dramatic statement as the wheel arches intersected the wedge and the ’visor’ windscreen wrapped around the cockpit. Genius.

But Gandini could be contradictory too, and we should remember that at the same time he was making these phenomenal wedge shapes Gandini was also creating cars such as the Lamborghini Jarama, which was their absolute antithesis. Yes it was inconsistent, but so too was it indicative of his ability to experiment without tying himself to a single style. He was also responsible for the Citroën Camargue, a Stratos-inspired wedge based on the GS, and the 1973 Urraco, a restrained but beautifully elegant Lamborghini, maintaining a horizontal line. Another of the wedge philosophy was Ferrari’s 2+2 308 GT4, a design that was overshadowed by Pininfarina’s more curvaceous two-seat Dino 246 GT and deemed not a proper Ferrari shape. I disagree. It was more modern and had a totality about it. ‘Cab forward’ with a great profile, and it had four seats.

Then there was the poster car. The most dramatically proportioned production sports car until that time and, probably, since too: the Lamborghini Countach. Its profile was dynamic with a sense of speed and direction, exaggerated beyond anything we’d seen on the road before. For me the most exciting surface was from the side, glass spinning around to a horizontal plane towards and over the rear flanks. Pure sculpture and movement, only disturbed by the protruding intakes, which were tacked on after testing. It must have hurt Gandini hugely to see those appendages disturb the purity of his original.

The Innocenti Mini was designed by Gandini. Based on the hugely familiar British and matter-of-fact Mini, he still managed to create something very different from the original. It used the same platform, right down to its subframes, but with a totally different and a very handsome character. It demonstrated the power of clever design.

The flat panel approach continued into the oddball Ferrari Rainbow, which used strong linear graphics to emphasise a separate panel effect. It had great proportions too. This era was now merging with product design of the time, using pure visual geometry to great effect. Gandini’s trademark angular rear wheel arches were inspired directly by those of the Countach, but now hugely faceted. He was being very cheeky, and not for the first time, his approach being the complete antithesis of Ferrari’s usual choice of carrozzeria, Pininfarina.

He did another Jaguar concept too, the Ascot, based on the XJ-S. It showed again how his style could be applied to different marques. And like Pininfarina and Giugiaro, or indeed Chanel or Prada, it was the style that mattered: the brands upon whose underpinnings they were built and whose badge they carried were simply vehicles, both literally and metaphorically, to demonstrate his art.

Then pow! Along came the Alfa Navajo in 1976. Built on the chassis of a stradale Alfa 33, it was the ultimate wedge. I remember being so moved by this while a student of industrial design that it affirmed for me that designing cars should be my life’s work. The drama of the almost straight lines was uncompromising, each line having an affinity with each other line. Perfect balance culminated in that bold wing designed as an integral part of the body. This was product design meeting automotive design at the highest level.

But, as mentioned, Gandini didn’t always get it so right. The 1978 Lancia Sibilo tried too hard. With matrix-printed glass edges its graphics lost definition. The wheel arches were clunky and it was finished in a ghastly brown. I thought he’d lost the plot. But as was his way and exploiting the privilege of concept cars, he was merely experimenting. From this more clunky style the Citroën BX was born, inspired by his 1979 concept, the Volvo Tundra; it sort of worked in an angular but slightly awkward way, but it was certainly no beautiful successor to the GS.

Gandini redeemed himself with the second-generation Renault 5 launched in 1984, a car I admired so much I bought one. It respectfully followed the ethos of the original, while giving the car a little more ‘snap’, with pure graphics and disciplined form. Small cars are difficult to make beautiful, but the 5 was.

I feel Gandini never really shone so much after that. Even the Lamborghini Diablo, a design heavily influenced by his previous Cizeta V16T, was awkward in so many areas. While trying to emulate the surface of the side glass into the rear flanks that I loved so much on the Countach, the forms and intent lacked confidence. The DLO (daylight opening) graphic dropping down into the front wheel arch gave the Diablo a disjointed look. But that’s just my opinion and I know many loved it.

The car I’m leaving until last is the Lamborghini Bravo. I think this was his best work, a car that inspired me hugely while I was studying design at the Glasgow School of Art, not just as a car but as a piece of industrial design in general. Using faceted glass around corners was brilliant and showed his instinctive desire to experiment could often pay off. The silhouette was perfect, the graphics intriguing and the details beautifully understated. That graphic line through the body side tied the car together perfectly. This to me was the best of Italian creativity in the way Ettore Sottsass and his Memphis group of that time were showing the way forward in product design. They should have put it into production. If they had, I’d have one in my living room today!

Marcello Gandini was a brilliant man. He worked alongside Giugiaro and then in competition with him, and I am so grateful for what I learned through their work. He stayed at Bertone while Giugiaro went on to create ItalDesign. Like so many opposing creative contemporaries, they worked to outshine each other, and were probably both better as a result. As for the rest of us, we got to witness some of the best art there has ever been, automotive or otherwise.