Creating the Jaguar C-X75: Part one

Would that be a mistake? The problem with such an approach is that it commits you to playing by their rules, but with at least one hand tied behind your back. Cost and practicality have always been the most difficult attributes for the Jaguar brand. Cost because we were a tiny company with none of the economies of scale enjoyed by the German premium brands (in recent years the cost of building Jaguars has been its greatest downfall) and practicality because the style and form so essential to what makes a Jaguar a Jaguar so often compromise space.

Even then and at least within the Design department we believed the electric car was inevitable, and far from being dismayed by the idea, to us the unprecedented flexibility of working with an electric platform was immensely exciting and appealing.

Jaguar was working on a ‘range extender’ version of the XJ at the time and although the project was in its early stages, it was both serious and credible. The idea was that a small internal combustion engine, running at a constant speed to provide maximum efficiency, would replenish the batteries when the charge got low, thus extending its range. It was one way forward in producing an electric car and others saw it through to production, including the Chevrolet Volt/Vauxhall Ampera and, of course, the BMW i3.

Jaguar was seriously considering an electric future as long ago as 2009, an ambition realised in 2018 with the launch of the I-Pace and a brand new XJ that was rather unfortunately cancelled at the eleventh hour. I drove the range extender XJ, and it worked well, but the mass of the extra engine combined with that of the electric motors and batteries bothered me and others somewhat. Which is when Julian and his team had the brilliant idea of using miniature jet engines to charge the batteries instead. They had discovered this tiny jet power unit designed and built by Bladon Jets, based on the Isle of Man. These engines were so small you could fit one in a shoebox! They were relatively light, weren’t fussy about the fuel they were fed, offered enormous amounts of power, were incredibly efficient because, unlike internal combustion engines, jets are designed to run at constant speeds, and perfect for packaging within the car.

The team started on the shape, unashamedly inspired by one of the most beautiful Jaguars ever, the XJ13. That car was designed to compete at Le Mans in the 1960s but was delayed by bureaucracy so much that by the time it would have been ready to go, the regulations had changed rendering it ineligible. Only one was built.

The team created sketches of the ideal sports car, guided by the idea of a completely flexible drivetrain. There were no outside influences or demands, as this was entirely a design exercise with no rulebook to follow. We had two electric motors to package between the wheels and two small jet engines. The point was we could create the perfect shape for how we thought a Jaguar sports car should look. This was our manifesto. Uncompromisingly beautiful and fast. That’s it! That’s how the brand should have moved on from that point.

The cabin was centrally mounted and balanced between the front and rear masses. The lines were pure, curvaceous and had movement. We always worked as a team and this piece of creation was a lesson in how to realise a single, collective vision.

Under Julian’s management the car came together with ease as we all pulled instinctively in the same direction. Two areas I was keen to pursue were the fuselage flanked by the wings formed over the wheels and the sweeping tail. The intersection of those sweeping surfaces is always difficult to resolve and I had experienced this challenge several times with Aston Martins, but nothing as extreme as this. It took a while to create a cohesive surface that flowed through the three forms, but it was hugely satisfying when it did. To me the rear had to look exaggerated with huge plan form in the tail: that sense of power pulling forward under tension. The XJ13 possesses some of this but the C-X75 needed to be brimful of it. The whole car simply had to have an abundance of form and dramatic balanced proportions.

It was imperative also that the window graphic was truly beautiful. The DLO as we designers call it (daylight opening) is the graphic that binds the car together. It is such an important element of any design. We worked hard to create a perfect shape that could have stood quite happily all by itself as a work of art.

The only point of debate, so far as I can recall, was the shape of the headlamps. Everything else was naturally obvious to us all because it came from a fundamental understanding of good design and, at least if not more importantly, the brand.

The interior was exuberant with a mass of billet aluminium and colour in extraordinary detail with beautifully resolved organic forms. We had also just discovered the British watch company Bremont. It’s a business inspired by stories, as were we, so an association felt compelling and natural. Together we created a special mechanical clock that could be removed and used outside the car. The door release handles were based at the front of the integrated seats, inspired by jet fighter ejector seats. This came about when we discovered Bremont celebrates Martin Baker ejector seats with a very special watch, only available to pilots who had had to eject. The lighting of the intricate door panels, detailed in Jaguar logos, fluctuated in rhythm with the sound system. It was altogether a charismatic interior that demonstrated the brand values through light, theatre and stories.

The car was launched at the Paris Motor Show in 2010. There had been no pre-launch activity so it was met with huge surprise and delight when the car lifted out of what seemed to be an empty turntable. The moment was hugely dramatic and for Julian and me one of our proudest moments. We, the Design team, had made a statement about what Jaguar stood for and what it truly deserved. From this moment on, we could only hope this set the agenda for the marque’s future.

As for the car itself, I instinctively knew it would go through to another phase. It was simply too good to ignore. What happened after that will be the subject of my next Ti story.

The second part of Ian’s C-X75 tale can be read here