How To Design Cars Like A Pro (PDFDrive)
How To Design Cars Like A Pro (PDFDrive)
How To Design Cars Like A Pro (PDFDrive)
TO
DESIGN cars
LIKE A PRO
New Edition
Tony Lewin
Ryan Borroff
Foreword by Ian Callum
Design Director, Jaguar
Contents
FOREWORD Jaguar design director Ian Callum on why design
really matters
INTRODUCTION The car industry is changing fast; you could help
design that change
CHAPTER 1 design defined
Leading designers talk about their inspirations, their
art and their approach CHAPTER 2 from sketch to showroom
How studio inspiration turns into street-level reality
CHAPTER 3 interiors
Design – up close and personal CHAPTER
4 concept cars
Showtime specials that fast-forward the future
CHAPTER 5 designer profile
Jean-Pierre Ploué has restored Citroen’s design
vitality: now he must do the same for Peugeot CHAPTER
6 designer’s diary
Behind the studio doors with Oliver LeGrice of
Land Rover advanced design CHAPTER 7 the design process
The nine stages of a car’s creation – from idea to
industrialisation CHAPTER 8 what is good design?
Professor Dale Harrow, head of vehicle design at
London’s Royal College of Art CHAPTER 9 design and identity
Why brand identity is essential in today’s
multinational world CHAPTER 10 new frontiers in car design
New forms of propulsion will allow designers to
reshape the automobile CHAPTER 11 change or continuity?
Which sells best – a steadily evolving design or one
which reinvents itself regularly?
CHAPTER 12 student work
The designers of tomorrow share their views and
their designs CHAPTER 13 tutorials
Perspective, tone, rendering, highlights – we get you
started on sketching CHAPTER 14 design and the great
designers
The men, the machines and the firms that shaped car
design CHAPTER 15 concept cars that transformed car design
Twelve show cars that shook up our thinking
CHAPTER 16 right idea, wrong time
These were great ideas, but the buyers weren’t ready
for them CHAPTER 17 landmark designs
Fifty cars that define 110 years of automobile
history GLOSSARY All the insider terminology used by
designers, explained by a design expert
DIRECTORY Design colleges and courses; global car brands;
studios and design directors
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
INDEX
foreword
by Ian Callum Design Director, Jaguar
Cars
I really can’t imagine a more exciting time to become a car designer. New
challenges and demands on the motor car are going to change the
comfortable assumptions we have had for many years. Challenges include
safety, resources, and, of course, sustainability.
The process of anticipating trends in technology and customer needs is now a
primary focus. We need to question the whole aspect of how we package
components, because components are changing. Where there is now a large V-8
engine, one day it may house a battery or electric motor. What was once
acceptable for aerodynamics is no longer the norm. What was once crashworthy
is now dangerous. All these aspects affect the way we will design future cars.
Not just incrementally, but dramatically.
Designers starting their careers during the coming decade will need to grapple
with questions like these, and will have the unique opportunity to shape a new
design direction for the industry.
So, more than ever before, car design is a profession where motivated,
talented young people can make a real difference to the world around them.
For many, this can be the fulfilment of a lifelong dream. As a teenager,
classic shapes like the Jaguar Mk II and the XJ fuelled my passion for
automotive design, and inspired me to send my first application letter to Jaguar
as a 14-year-old!
Even during the 1970s, however, car design was a competitive world, and it
took over a decade of hard work and persistence to secure a position within the
took over a decade of hard work and persistence to secure a position within the
industry.
Fast-forward over 30 years, and I have had the privilege of overseeing the re-
invention of the Jaguar brand, returning to the original values of innovative,
modern design which Sir William Lyons established during Jaguar’s heyday.
This revolutionary change was not achieved overnight. It was a long, ten-year
journey, and highlights that the talent to create attractive shapes is not enough:
Designers need to have real tenacity and the ability to communicate the vision
behind their ideas.
At Jaguar, we embraced this change from heritage-led design in three stages.
Each successive model–the XK coupé, the XF sedan, and the flagship XJ–
moved the design language forward, combining distinctly modern appearance
with the purity of line and sense of proportion which underpins all classic
Jaguars.
flagship XJ
The exceptionally favourable reception for these vehicles has been a strong
vindication that our approach was the right one, and is a good example of the
unique rewards which this profession can offer.
Young people who share a similar passion for automotive design, and who
are keen to establish a foothold in what remains a highly sought-after and
are keen to establish a foothold in what remains a highly sought-after and
competitive profession, will find this book a valuable resource.
Providing a detailed insight into the world of car design, it also profiles the
work of a number of young, up-and-coming designers.
Fresh, modern ideas which capture the imagination, and which get customers
enthralled, are the lifeblood of our profession, and I look forward to seeing the
next generation of talented car designers entering the industry.
INTRODUCTION
THE FAST MOVING WORLD OF
design
A lot can happen in the space of seven years, especially in a world as fast
moving as the automobile industry. Why seven years? Because that’s how long
it has been since the publication of the first edition of How to Design Cars Like a
Pro, and because seven years gives a handy perspective from which to take stock
of the changes that have affected the lives of everyone involved in the auto
industry, not least those people working in the design business.
In the space of those seven years the cars in the showrooms and on our streets
became faster, fatter and more fabulous—only to shrink back to more
responsible proportions as tighter environmental regulations became a certainty
rather than just an idle threat. Styles such as the big, bullying SUV have come
and gone in that short space of time, and buyers are becoming increasingly
intolerant of any product that smacks of easy profit rather than personality. At
model level, the struggles of grandiose super-rich projects such as Maybach and
Bugatti contrast starkly with the rise of new entry-level models such as Renault’s
Logan and Tata’s ambitious new $1500 people’s car, the Nano. All are
differentiated by good design.
Even greater convulsions have shaken the companies that build our cars.
Financial pressures leading to the breakup of several of the major carmaking
empires have liberated brands such as Jaguar, Volvo, Aston Martin, and Saab
from centralised corporate control, but also put them at the mercy of harsh
market forces; equally, once-famous marques like Oldsmobile, Pontiac, and
Rover have already succumbed and now languish on the scrapheap.
Even more noteworthy has been the rise of two Asian nations. Korea’s
Hyundai and Kia brands are now a global force to be reckoned with, and China
is emphatically on the map as the biggest car market in the world as well as the
nation with the greatest number of automakers—and perhaps also the greatest
hunger for all things automotive.
But what does this all mean for designers, especially aspiring young designers
who are full of ideas but who have yet to train or find a job? Fortunately, most of
the news is good news. The profusion of newer, smaller and more independently
minded companies means easier access to design professionals for design
hopefuls. In fact, there is something of a renaissance in car design going on.
Never has the design and styling of automobiles been so fundamentally
important to a carmaker as it is now. Design is at the forefront of how cars are
perceived and directly affects consumers’ purchase decisions. And as time
moves forward, consumers are becoming more demanding. They want the cars
they drive to have character, suggest individuality, to communicate to the world
their lifestyles, status, even their values and ideals. In fact, though environmental
and safety regulations now place tight constraints on how cars are shaped, the
era of the anonymous family sedan is over: carmakers are desperate to
differentiate their ranges from those of their competitors, and all of them realise
that design is much the most effective tool with which to achieve such
differentiation. And for that reason most studios welcome the spark and fresh
inspiration that young talent can bring.
It could be argued, too, that it has never been easier to get started.
Professional digital design programs are now available at affordable prices so
that anyone with competence and a computer can produce impressive, near
studio quality results. Back in 2003, when the first edition of this book appeared,
such programs cost several thousand dollars per user. Yet such an obvious
such programs cost several thousand dollars per user. Yet such an obvious
democratisation of design tools brings with it one enormous challenge: Anyone
seeking to make their career in design is now in competition with like-minded
people all around the globe, from Chile to China and from South Africa to
Sweden.
Rest assured, however, that studios and colleges know that true talent will
always shine through. The job of this book is to fire up your interest in car
design: It will guide you through the initial part of the process, help you
understand what makes a good design, celebrate the true classics of design, and
guide your own first steps in putting pen to paper or mouse to keyboard and
screen. It’s then that, all being well, inspiration will take over and it becomes
time to consult our list of design colleges at the back of the book. And beyond
that? It’s all up to you, your inspiration and your talent.
TONY LEWIN
RYAN BORROFF
Spring 2010
CHAPTER 1
DESIGN defined
We asked four leading designers what attracted them to car design, what
influences them, and which of their designs best encapsulates their design
approach.
Marek Reichman, director of design, Aston Martin
Marek Reichman has overseen the most prolific period of design for Aston
Martin and has led the creation of the four-door Rapide coupé, DBS, and One-
77, as well as the Cygnet city car.
My fascination with cars and design began from a very early age. My dad was
a car fan and my older brother a fanatic. We spent many hours at family and
friends’ garages repairing and messing about with cars, hearing stories about
cars of the 1940s and 1950s—so I guess that really rubbed off on me as the
youngest member of the all-male Reichman household. I became very interested
in design as my brother began his education as a designer. I was of a very
impressionable age and remember always hearing about the cool stuff that
design students became involved with.
I was also a fan of all boys’ toys, such as Meccano, Lego, Hornby trains, and
Scalextric, but it was design that really captured my imagination. Reading about
the Bauhaus school, Le Corbusier, and the modern design movement, I started to
sketch various crazy ideas. I wanted a very rounded design education, which is
why I decided to study industrial design. This proved to be a great foundation as
I studied material science, form, function, and manufacturing technologies. I was
always asking the question “how and why?” I think every designer wants to
analyse and take apart objects to discover . . . how they are made. The goal? The
art of the impossible, along with purity and simple refinement. Designers are
essentially geeks who are into things, always attempting to make the world a
better, more interesting place.
All of the designs I have been involved in creating follow this ethos in
principle: It is always about defining the elements of a car or brand in order to
design. As an example, a recently submitted design for a new generation of
London bus used this approach to deliver a functionally better bus with a
characterful exterior. At the heart of design should be beauty and functionality.
The best examples of this approach are the Aston Martin Rapide and One-77
cars.
One-77
Peter Schreyer, chief design officer, Kia Motor Company
One of the world’s most influential car designers, Peter Schreyer is best known
for his work at Audi in the 1990s, most notably the TT, which is already
considered one of the twentieth century’s most iconic designs. He has been chief
design officer at Kia Motor Company since 2006.
I think my fascination with car design was fired by one particular car that I
saw when I was quite young. It was a white 1950s Mercedes 300 SL, with a red-
leather interior. It belonged to a guy who was a motorcycle racer in my
hometown in Bavaria. Even now I still have a screensaver of a photograph of
myself and my brother standing next to it.
My father had a great passion for cars, and I recall one day he came home
saying there was a great new car—the Jaguar E-Type. He said it cost 23,000
Deutschmarks and to me that sounded like millions—like a lottery win. But it
was a great car and it was so beautiful.
I believe concept is so very important to making a good car. Another vehicle I
have always admired is the Rumpler Tropfenwagen—strange perhaps to some
people—and it was in some ways like the old horse-drawn carriages that
preceded the modern car. But the concept of the Rumpler was that it should
provide space for people in comfort in a very aerodynamic body. Its teardrop
shape was remarkable in a vehicle that so perfectly provided convenience and
function—perhaps the first case of form following function in the motor car. In
fact until the 1980s, it still had the best drag coefficient figure of any vehicle.
Of course, it is not just car design that influences car designers. For example,
most people might not imagine that the P51 Mustang influenced the cabin design
of the last model Volkswagen Passat. However, if you look at the cockpit
of the last model Volkswagen Passat. However, if you look at the cockpit
canopy of the Mustang and the cabin of the Passat, there is a great similarity.
Both are organic forms that sit on top of the respective bodies in a fluent manner
—and the Passat cabin, like the Mustang, does not have lines that are merely
parallel with the body of the car; it narrows towards the rear—just like the
Mustang.
I was particularly proud of the Audi A2. I saw several on a recent visit to
London, and the car still looks right on the streets today. That is because it
fulfills its concept—an aerodynamic, lightweight, fuel consumption-conscious
package that provides a good space package, a commanding driving position,
and an attractive shape; it is still a great-looking car.
Audi A2
My design approach at Kia is the same. Our new Venga, like the A2, is
compact yet it provides excellent space and a good driving position. It has good
looks—it is almost like a cute little frog sat on the road—but inside it surprises
its occupants with impressive space, comfort, and style. The Soul was all about
character—despite the fact that it is very much a B-segment car, but it stands out
and makes its owners smile. And our just-launched Cadenza takes that arc of
tension, that direct design link, a stage further. It is a lighthouse car—it will
stand out in showrooms and attract people to the brand. It has consistency of
design, and even if someone comes in to look at the car but goes away in
something more humble, they will know that the design of the car they have
chosen is connected directly to the Cadenza. Communicating a consistent brand
identity is the key challenge as Kia design moves forward. We must have one
language and communicate it clearly and understandably to our customers.
Venga
Soul
Anthony Lo, vice president, exterior design, Renault
Anthony Lo is vice president of exterior design at Renault. Previously Lo was
director of advanced design at General Motors Europe. Designer of the Saab
Aero X, Lo led the design of GM cars for the Saab, Opel, and Vauxhall brands,
including the Saab 9-X, 9-3X, and 2006 Opel GTC, 2007 Opel Flextreme, and
2009 Opel Flextreme GT/E concepts.
Wedge-shaped car design of the late 1960s and early 1970s has greatly
influenced my design philosophy. The idea of a slim silhouette, minimal cross
sectional area, wide stance, and the “no excess” efficient package fascinates me.
Among many great examples from this era (Maserati Bora, BMW M1,
Lamborghini Countach, Lotus Esprit), the Lamborghini Espada stood out for
me. This is a proper four-seater sports car with a supercar performance. The
proportions are classical front engine, rear drive, with long dash-to-axle distance
and a relatively long wheelbase. There is something particularly appealing about
a four-seater GT because of the combination of style, elegance, performance,
and function. The sleek profile was a result of having both front and rear
passengers sit very close to the ground, where seating comfort was questionable
over long distance trips. But then again, if comfort is your highest priority, there
are plenty of other options out there. The Espada is a GT with the strong visual
drama of a mid-engine supercar and an ultimate driving experience for four
travelling at supercar speed centimetres above ground. Designing a sports car
with four decent-size seats is a real challenge, especially with safety, comfort,
entry, and exit in mind. Proportions on the Espada are well managed, with a
sleek profile that stretches over the rear passengers’ head without a hump.
Lamborghini Espada
Drawing, first of all, fascinated me. As a kid, I was sketching in every book,
in every school paper I had. At some point, I was thinking about what I could do
to turn that into a profession. The other thing I was always interested in was how
things are built, how things are produced. So this is why I studied industrial
design and later came to car design.
We at the BMW Group always talk about proportion, surface, and detail, and
we deal with them in that order. It means that we spend a lot of time getting the
proportions right. The way the car sits on its wheels, the relation of length to
width and height. These are things that we study at great length. We study
proportion models before we decide what the right proportion is. After that, we
deal with the surface. Now we are dealing with light and shadow. And in our
surface design, we know we are able to generate a lot of emotion. Finally, of
course, we deal with the detail. We have a great love of detail. This means that
in a premium product like a BMW, a Rolls-Royce, or a MINI, we want to make
sure that the customer will discover more and more great details the longer they
look at the car, the longer they own the car. This is how we can keep our designs
relevant for a long time and can give customers a very strong personal and
emotional relationship to their vehicles for a long time.
emotional relationship to their vehicles for a long time.
In recent times, a show car and a production car encapsulate this approach.
The show car is the BMW Vision EfficientDynamics concept car that we
showed in Frankfurt in 2009. This is a car that is actually not only about design.
It addresses the biggest issues in the car industry today: entirely new drivetrains
—such as electric drive or smaller engines—and much lower fuel consumption
and emissions. With the BMW Vision EfficientDynamics, we did all that by
making a car that is very light and very aerodynamic. And those two elements,
lightweight and aerodynamics, are expressed through the design. They are given
a shape that I would call highly emotional, and I believe that is very desirable.
So in a nutshell, the design philosophy at BMW is that we want to do design that
is authentic, that expresses what the vehicle is capable of, and what the customer
will experience while driving the car. A recent production car example of that
philosophy is the new BMW 5 Series.
BMW Vision EfficientDynamics
CHAPTER 2
SKETCH TO showroom
Great showmanship is about walking the tightrope between the real and the
fantastical—too much of either and you risk alienating your audience
through boredom or disbelief. This certainly applies to carmakers
exhibiting at motor shows, who in years past were pilloried for using
conceptual flights of fancy to deflect attention from the disappointingly
homogeneous production designs with which they shared the stage.
Whether through mounting pressure to make every development dollar count—
some manufacturers, like Audi, don’t really do concepts at all, applying the
name to thinly veiled preproduction prototypes instead—or simply a greater
aptitude for bending the rules, we’re seeing an increasing number of dramatic
concepts reach production virtually unmolested, and in record time. Here we
trace the development of seven key models from the drawing board to the street,
successfully running the gauntlet of safety legislation, plummeting budgets, and
focus groups to emerge with their essence intact. Each one is a tribute to the
vision, skill, and dedication of the designers who created them.
Jaguar XJ
The story of the new Jaguar XJ is not the standard one of a bold and futuristic
concept car wheeled out at a glitzy motor show and only later re-emerging,
barely recognisable, as a bland production model, toned down to chime in with
conservative focus groups and awkward regulations.
Jaguar XJ
A year ahead of the XJ’s unveiling in summer 2009, design director Ian
Callum was clear that this was a car that could go straight to market, without a
concept version ahead of the launch. The smaller XF, introduced in 2008, had
already done all the softening-up work normally accomplished by a show car,
reasoned Callum—and in any case the XF had been preceded by its own
concept, the C-XF, whose impact was still fresh in the customer’s mind.
C-XF
“As I get older, I find I get braver,” commented Callum as he discussed the
XJ’s shape at the unveiling. Given that the XJ had hardly evolved over its many
generations since the William Lyons original of 1968, the bravery Callum was
referring to must have been two-fold: first, in daring to put a new face to a
sacred Jaguar icon that no one had dared to touch and, secondly, in making that
new face such a radical and progressive one.
Though the XF had already signalled the bringing of Jaguar sedan design into
the modern era, Callum wanted to go further with the XJ and make a real impact.
Self evidently, the design would be thoroughly modern, but instead of a cut and
paste of familiar XJ design cues the team looked at the proportions and the
architecture of the original and applied these lessons to a modern Jaguar.
One of the most striking aspects of the XJ is the visually very stretched
window profile, with the rear quarter light taking the waistline to the trailing
edge of the rear wheel arch. “This is a pure teardrop shape, a strong graphic that
gives the car a lot of virtual length,” says Callum. Indeed, the XJ looks very long
and graceful, even in the shorter of its two wheelbases. As with the original, the
rear overhang is long and the roof slender and graceful, aided at the rear by
glazed-over C-pillars that add visual width to the rear window. Perhaps the
boldest aspect of the XJ—and certainly the most discussed—is the pure surface
of the trunk lid, framed by elegantly striated vertical rear lights and with only the
leaping Jaguar symbol for decoration. Again, Callum asserts the need for some
formality in the design.
Reiterating the statement first attributed to Ford’s head of design, J Mays,
Reiterating the statement first attributed to Ford’s head of design, J Mays,
Jaguar managing director Mike O’Driscoll insists the British brand is in the
business of entertainment rather than transport. With its exterior exuding a real
sense of occasion and its interior living up to that promise with state-of-the-art
audio-visual systems and a programmed welcome sequence as you enter, the
new XJ convinces as automotive entertainment of the classiest possible kind.
Chevrolet Camaro
Ford may have kicked off the process two years earlier with its successful
reinterpretation of the Mustang, but it is 2006—with the unveiling of the
Chevrolet Camaro and Dodge Challenger concepts at the NAIAS in Detroit—
that will always be remembered as the year that the American muscle car made
its triumphant return to the world stage.
Chevrolet Camaro
The motoring blogs had been awash with speculative images of these cars in
the months preceding their unveiling, what seemed like the world and his dog
getting busy with photo and design software to provide their own take on the
future of the pony car. If anything, the two official cars exceeded expectations—
in particular the Camaro, which combined proportions and graphical elements
inspired by the iconic 1969 version with a progressive twenty-first century
surface treatment.
1969 version
This, though, was the culmination of what was by all accounts a very short
(just seven months) but tumultuous design process. One auto journal talks of a
last-minute walk-through by then-GM CEO Rick Wagoner resulting in a
finished concept being scrapped on the grounds of being too faithful to the
original. A second team was then drafted in to work alongside the existing
designers and come up with a more progressive design under the direction of
newly appointed VP of global design, Ed Welburn. The two rival designs were
created by Simon Cox’s studio in the UK and Frank Saucedo’s West Coast
Advanced Design team in California—we may never know which outfit’s design
made the cut.
Regardless, the final design not only garnered almost universal praise at its
Regardless, the final design not only garnered almost universal praise at its
launch the following year, but also required remarkably few alterations in order
to meet the demands of mass production. From the outside, the 2010 Camaro is a
dead ringer for the concept that previewed it; only the closest of examinations
reveals the difference between the two. The intakes in the rear fenders have been
replaced with decorative slits for aerodynamic reasons; the rear-view mirrors
have swelled to a more practical size; the side indicator and reversing lights have
been repositioned to meet legislation requirements; and the lower parts of the
front and rear bumpers are subtly reprofiled to optimise airflow. And that’s it.
The “Coke-bottle” rear, short front and rear overhangs, and muscular hood that
characterised the concept are very much present and correct on the showroom
model.
While some of the glitzy cockpit detailing has been lost, the spirit of the
concept interior has also survived remarkably intact in the production version.
The instrument panel (IP) is wide and unusually open for a sports car, and
interior design manager Jeff Perkins succeeded in keeping the recessed twin
driver’s dials, a deep-dished steering wheel, and distinctive (albeit less colourful)
four-pack gauges behind the gearshifter that gave the design study such a strong
aesthetic link to the 1960s version. In terms of both concept and execution, the
Camaro is something of a masterpiece.
concept interior
production version
Citroën C3 Picasso
Born in 2004 under the codename A58, the C3 Picasso’s design and
development was overseen by Citroën’s head of concept cars, Carlo Bonzanigo.
The goal was to translate the cutting-edge design language developed on cars
like the C-SportLounge and apply it to a mainstream production minivan (MPV).
In doing so, Bonzanigo and his team created a car that totally subverts
expectations of what a small, affordable minivan should look like, both inside
and out.
Citroën C3 Picasso
Led by Miles Nurnberger and Frédéric Duvernier, the exterior design kicked
off with the traditional PSA two-week sketching phase, after which the initial
themes were translated into 3D computer-aided design (CAD) renderings for
assessment by the entire team. Two of these proposals were then milled in full
scale from polystyrene; this allowed the designers to refine the volumes and
surfaces prior to the management presentation a few months later.
Both themes shared a two-box profile and a stubby, high-set hood reminiscent
of the Audi A2’s, plus a voluminous rear with more rounded surfaces than
previously seen on compact minivans. Duvernier’s initial sketches featured
window lines that sank down between the A-and C-pillars—an element that
featured in one of the proposals but was later adapted so that the visual “kick”
into the rear fender is achieved via the shoulder line rather than the side glass.
Like the car’s three-part windshield, which allowed the A-pillar to be drawn
back to minimise driver blind spots, this went on to become one of the
production C3 Picasso’s most distinctive features.
A full-scale clay model was created in Spring 2005 for final surface
development. It was at this point that the designers came up with the car’s
development. It was at this point that the designers came up with the car’s
complex three-tiered front graphic, which combines some of the dramatic
elements explored on previous Citroën show cars with a benign, almost friendly
down-the-road graphic (DRG).
The interior development process ran in parallel with that of the exterior and
was led by Pascal Grappey and Andreas Stump, who came up with a diverse
range of themes. It was Stump’s “opera” IP theme that was taken to the hard
model phase, as he proposed an IP whose upper panel fans out and away from
the centre, creating a natural recess between the two sections that becomes more
prominent at either end of the dashboard. As on the finished version, the digital
instrument binnacle was also mounted centrally, at eye level, on top of the upper
dash panel and the gearshift located high on a simple, relatively clutter-free
console.
A few more changes had taken place by the time the interior design clinic was
held in June 2006, most notably the replacement of circular air vents with
bevelled rectangular items that echo the exterior theme.
By any standards, the C3 Picasso is a roaring success. Compact, characterful,
and extremely versatile, it deserves to rank alongside the DS and 2CV in
Citroën’s illustrious hall of fame.
Toyota iQ
It is perhaps only fitting that the next evolutionary step in vehicle packaging
should have emerged from the spiritual home of miniaturisation, Japan. Slightly
wider and longer than a Smart ForTwo, Toyota’s iQ nevertheless takes up less
than three metres of road space. Within this length (less than even the original
Mini’s), Toyota’s design and engineering team have managed to create
accommodation for three adults and a child (or luggage)—no small feat given
the airbags, crumple zones, and pedestrian impact protection that each new car
must offer.
Toyota iQ
Like the character line, this dramatic graphic was toned down a little for
production. But the prototype that appeared at Geneva in 2008, just six months
after the Frankfurt design study, retained a surprising proportion of the concept’s
more unusual design elements, presenting an altogether more aggressive face
than its city car rivals. The high beltline, V-shaped crease leading to a slit-like
grille intake, and wide, wheel-at-each-corner stance give the iQ an abnormally
large amount of visual attitude for its size.
high beltline, V-shaped crease
The car’s radical interior design made the transition from concept to
showroom equally unscathed. Gone is the sculptural, manta ray–inspired IP that
flowed along the top of the instrument cluster, folding like a layer of silver-lined
purple silk to form a sharp point and a natural home for the car’s infotainment
screen, HVAC controls, and perforated air vent design. But the very
architectural, T-shaped dashboard architecture remains, as does the V-shaped
console effect.
Volkswagen Scirocco
With the Scirocco firmly established as one of the most desirable coupés of
modern times, it’s perhaps easy to forget the troubled start that it had to life.
Created by then-design boss of Volkswagen, Murat Günak, and launched with
the name IROC at the 2006 Paris show, the concept (above) was a big hit with a
public tantalised by the prospect of a stylish, practical Volkswagen four-seat
coupé.
IROC
The following year, however, saw the departure of Günak in favour of former
Seat design boss Walter de’Silva—and with it substantial revisions to the design
of the already-in-development Scirocco production car. The most notable of
these was carried out to the car’s face.
The street-ready version unveiled at Geneva in 2008 bore a much less
aggressive down-the-road graphic (DRG) than the concept—not exactly unusual
in automotive design. The reasons behind this change were more profound than
a simple loss of nerve on the part of VW, however. The production Scirocco’s
geometric front end—a collaboration between de’Silva, VW Potsdam studio
chief Klaus Bischoff, and former creative director of the VW Group Flavio
Manzoni—was to provide a template for the new face of VW.
street-ready version
Nissan Juke
It was a gamble, but it worked—and the Qashqai has been a huge success.
The company realised that it could benefit from a similar energy boost in the
smaller B segment, where the Micra was lost in a sea of low-cost hatchbacks.
Yet, says Alfonso Albaisa, former London-based vice president of Nissan
Design Europe, the approach would be bolder still: “We wanted it to be both
masculine and agile, something that would be unique in the B segment. It needed
to be less cautious than the Qashqai, as that model has a wider range of
customers. It’s not so rebellious as the B-car world.”
The early target qualities were defined as sports plus tough plus cute, though
the latter was later dropped. Four years away from its planned showroom debut
of September 2010, teams in several Nissan design centres began sketching;
soon, a key sketch emerged, one which everyone could buy in to as the way
ahead. Crucially, the aim was to target a person, a type of customer, rather than
an attribute such as roominess. With Matt Weaver in the NDE London studio
an attribute such as roominess. With Matt Weaver in the NDE London studio
appointed lead designer, a dramatic but small shape began to develop, with a
heavy emphasis on its large wheels and wheel arches, tall build, rally-car style
spotlights, and unusual high-set headlights mounted further back on the hood.
“We pushed in the area between the doors so that the wheel forms became
even more dominant,” says Albaisa. Patrick Reimer, meanwhile, had led an
innovative, very sculptural interior treatment, which included a centre console
shaped like a motorcycle fuel tank and flipper-shaped forms on the door casings
to reflect the model’s adventurous, outdoor role.
Aware that the Juke would represent a major leap in style for the consumer,
part of the plan had always been a warm-up act in the shape of a concept car at
the 2009 Geneva show. Presented as the Qazana—a name chosen only just
before the show—the model shocked, stunned, and baffled showgoers and
commentators, but was judged bold and exciting.
“The brief for the show car was to hint, but not to reveal specifics,” says
Albaisa. “We didn’t need to show the size or the roominess, but all the key
elements were included.”
Riding on massive 19-inch wheels, the Qazana came across as powerful and
impressive, just as Albaisa had intended, and a suicide-door arrangement
allowed photographers a usefully clear view into the cabin. “We wanted to
celebrate the interior as much as the exterior,” commented the design team. The
feedback, says Albaisa, was so overwhelmingly positive that nothing was
feedback, says Albaisa, was so overwhelmingly positive that nothing was
changed on the production car—which, ironically, was being tested in clinics at
around the same time as the concept was being shown.
Few believed that Nissan would have the bottle to go into production with
something as dramatic as the Qazana concept. Yes, some of the more fancy
details have been toned down, but the radical proportions and the aggressive
urban funkiness of the concept have been kept intact for the showroom Juke,
evidence of the trust in design shown by Nissan’s senior managers.
On the strength of the Juke, Nissan’s residual image as a cautious brand may
at last be overturned. “This car needs to attract people who aren’t even paying
attention,” notes Albaisa, tellingly.
CHAPTER 3
interiors
And so here we are at the end of the first decade of the twenty-first century,
some years since the automotive design community collectively woke up to
the importance of interior design to its increasingly design-literate customer
base. So, just how far have we come since those dark days of plastic black
cockpits built down to a price?
Pretty far, it seems. The inexorable cross-pollination between the world of
automotive interiors and other design spheres such as architecture, fashion, and
product design, has been steadily gathering pace. Car designers are openly
acknowledging the influence exerted by the products on display at exhibitions,
such as the Milan Furniture Fair and Tokyo’s 100% Design, as well as the
gadgets they carry around in their pockets to play music and make phone calls
with. The result is a blurring of the boundaries between the car and other
everyday products.
We’re not just talking about exotic prestige sedans or luxury grand tourers
here, either. A quiet revolution has been going on at some of the mainstream
manufacturers, whose small cars now boast some very progressive interior
designs. The drive to lift cabin quality without breaking the bank is pushing
them to explore new material applications, to play with lacquered and matte
surfaces in ways that would have seemed unimaginable before this decade
began.
Combined with the arrival of hybrid and plug-in electric drivetrain
technology, this trend is creating a paradigm shift in the way that designers
approach car interiors. Far from the undervalued space it once was, the interior is
now a playground for exploring new packaging solutions and aesthetics and
create interactive mobile sculptures that engage and delight the occupants. None
create interactive mobile sculptures that engage and delight the occupants. None
exemplify this forward momentum better than the cars explored here.
Citroën Hypnos
When historians look back over Citroën’s long and illustrious career, it is
probably the 2008 Paris Motor Show that will be singled out as its finest hour of
recent years. Packed into the same stand as the stunning GTbyCitroën (a concept
designed entirely in the virtual realm and—prefacing an emerging trend—
specifically for a video game) and the game-changing C3 Picasso compact
minivan, the more conventionally styled Hypnos concept was understandably
overlooked by many at first. But as its barn-style doors opened up, the car lit up
like an aurora borealis; its arresting, otherworldly interior was bathed in
rainbow-coloured ribbons of light that left the viewer entranced as to their nature
and origin.
Citroën Hypnos
Fiat 500
Developed in just 17 months by Fiat design boss Roberto Giolito and the
same people that created the Trepiuno, the 500 echoes the MINI before it in
presenting information such as speed, revs, and trip data, in a large, analogue
dial, although here it’s mounted conventionally behind the wheel rather than in
the centre of the IP. In a nod to the original 500, the full-width lower dash
surface consists of a metal-effect panel finished in the same colour as the
exterior, while Bakelite-style air conditioning and stereo controls below add a
high-quality, tactile feel.
Another classic 500 cue is the disc-shaped headrests that sit atop the car’s
four seats, which can be upholstered in a staggering array of colours and
materials—many of which would be considered too garish by rival
manufacturers, but which fit the 500’s playful personality to a tee. In addition to
the four trim levels and 15 upholstery choices, buyers can select numerous key
case colours to match the exterior bodywork, just as they might switch the cover
of their Nokia mobile phone.
After years of kitting out their small cars with sombre, workmanlike interiors
built down to a price, cars like the 500 mark a realisation among carmakers that
young, particularly female, buyers don’t equate size with quality.
BMW Vision EfficientDynamics
Design often lags at least a couple of steps behind engineering; after all, the
ability to store music on a portable hard drive had been around for years by the
time Apple invented the iPod. So it has proven with “green” vehicle
technologies.
At the 2009 Frankfurt Auto Show, however, we finally witnessed the arrival
of the automotive iPod—or at least a very convincing blueprint for one. The
EfficientDynamics concept was born out of a desire on the part of design
director Adrian van Hooydonk and his team to communicate BMW’s “low-
weight, maximum efficiency” engineering philosophy in physical form. The end
result transcends even that ambitious goal, presenting a holistic, dynamic sports
car design that embraces the concept of sustainability at every level.
Prior to the design process, interior design director Marc Girard urged his
team to ignore the tenets of car design and experiment with sculpting, painting,
and folding fabrics and metals. This became the basis of the car’s highly
sculptural, layered form language—one that makes an art form of exposing the
car’s structural elements, paring weight down to the absolute minimum in the
process.
The IP takes root on either side of the stamen-shaped integrated steering
column and instrument cluster, dividing into upper and lower layers that
highlight the negative spaces behind. The lower layer folds over and back to
form the door armrests, while the other runs along the top of the doors and
behind the “floating” rear seats to meet its twin, before twisting back and
forming a natural cover for the central battery “spine” that divides the interior.
The thin Kevlar seats are every bit as comfortable as the ones in a 7 Series,
according to the car’s designers.
Light, aerodynamic, fast, and clean—not to mention beautiful to sit in and
look at—the EfficientDynamics represents a true intersection between
sustainable design and engineering.
sustainable design and engineering.
Jaguar XJ
While controversy still plagues the exterior design of the 2010 XJ (the first four-
door Jaguar to truly break the mould set by the iconic 1968 model), the car’s
interior is busy refining expectations of prestige car design. Created by chief
interior designer Mark Philips, the XJ interior brings the British concept of
automotive luxury into the twenty-first century.
Jaguar XJ
The clean, low-set dashboard (lower, even, than in the XK coupé) is visually
separated from the windscreen by a veneer “curtain” that extends in an arc from
the upper door panels, creating an environment that is at once both spacious and
intimate. There are subtle links to Jaguar’s past—the pair of eyeball vents that
flank the centrally positioned dashboard clock, for one—but the overwhelming
sense is of sitting in a contemporary lounge space. We’ve become accustomed to
seeing this kind of thing in concepts (Jaguar’s own RD6, for example), but this is
the first time it’s been pulled off in a production car. Philips cites the work of
Hermes, Cartier, and Savile Row, among others, as sources of inspiration for the
XJ’s colour and trim.
XJ’s colour and trim.
There’s a real sense of theatre to the XJ, too. Joining the XK-derived rising
circular transmission control in creating a sense of occasion is a “virtual”
instrument display that sees an animated leaping Jaguar morph into the driver’s
dials on start-up. The centre console is also a work of art, housing the gear
shifter, an elegant touchscreen, and the HVAC interface in a slim, brushed metal
surround inspired by Loewe’s LCD TVs.
The convergence of fashion with automotive and product design has become
something of a holy grail in interior design of late. It looks like Jaguar has got
there first.
Audi R8
The R8 had a difficult childhood, first appearing as the 1991 Quattro Spyder
concept before reportedly being killed off by then-CEO Ferdinand Piech for fear
of competing with his family’s beloved Porsche brand. The project resurfaced
soon after Piech’s departure in 2002, this time dubbed the Le Mans concept;
rapturous praise ensued, and work soon began on a mid-engined sports car based
on the Lamborghini Gallardo’s ASF (Aluminium SpaceFrame) platform.
Audi R8
Those of us who expected the 2006 Paris show production car to resemble a
remodelled Gallardo with an upscale TT interior were proved very wrong. While
elements like the flat-bottomed steering wheel and the three-knob climate
control system located just ahead of the gearlever were already familiar Audi
fare—as was the concept of rotating the brand’s trapezoidal grille by 90 degrees
to form the basis of the centre console, a theme first explored on the A6—the R8
is truly in a class of one in terms of sports car design.
The shroud that follows the arc of the binnacle cover down into the door and
twists below the armrests is unusually sculptural by Audi standards, creating a
sense of intimacy that offsets the rather clinical interplay between the car’s
primary surfaces and materials. Every inch of the interior is upholstered, and the
de rigueur aluminium trim has made way for carbon and lacquered finishes that
echo the exterior’s side blades and paintwork in providing visual contrast.
Then there are those elliptical eye-shaped instruments, the cylindrical gear
lever and the Batman-esque segmented bucket seats, all of which look and feel
superb. Never before has the exotic and the ergonomic been so successfully
superb. Never before has the exotic and the ergonomic been so successfully
combined.
CHAPTER 4
CONCEPT cars
Concept cars are the shooting stars of the automotive world. They burn
brilliantly but all too briefly before fizzling out and disappearing into the
darkness—yet in those few instants, they surprise, startle, illuminate, and
inspire.
Much the shortest-lived of a car company’s products, their lifespan in the public
eye is measured in days and weeks, rather than the years and decades of factory-
built models. Yet even though they represent investments of thousands of man-
hours and millions of dollars, they are soon forgotten after their brief flash of
fame. After all, who remembers Metisse, Iosis, Napta, Eclectic, or IROC? No
one but serious car buffs. By way of contrast, names such as R8, C4 Picasso,
Qashqai, and Auris are much more familiar. Why the difference? All nine are
models picked at random from the list of new designs launched at the 2006 Paris
Motor Show—yet as production cars rather than concepts, the latter four have
stayed in our consciousness rather than fading into obscurity.
Of course, no sensible car company wantonly wastes cash on an unproductive
exercise. It is thus natural to question the logic of blowing millions on something
as ephemeral and as a one-off special that only sees the light of day—or the
showtime spotlight—for a couple of weeks. So why, then, do carmakers build
concept cars? Different companies will give different answers, but most
responses will share a common thread. By deciding to build a concept car,
prototype, design study, research model—call it what you may—and putting it
on a motor show turntable, an automaker is making a statement of intent. It is
saying something about its future policy or the direction it intends to take; it
could be signalling a new segment of the market it intends to enter, or it could be
previewing new design themes or technical solutions. In the case of Renault at
the 2009 Frankfurt show, an array of no fewer than four concepts for electric
vehicles (including the Zoe ZE, above) left observers in no doubt whatsoever
about the intention of the Renault-Nissan alliance to dominate future markets for
zero-emission transportation.
Whatever the reason, there is a lot more strategy behind the appearance of a
concept car than might at first seem to be the case. Renault, for instance, values
concept cars not just for the external impact and the benefit they bring to the
company’s public image: They have an important internal function too,
providing an outlet for the creativity and inventiveness of the company’s
designers, especially the younger designers, and boosting the morale of the
company in general. At Renault a central plank of company policy is to generate
a steady stream of design studies exploring new segments and putting out fresh
design ideas.
“Since 1988 concept cars have always played a strong role at Renault,” says
its former design director Patrick le Quément, who steered Renault design for
two decades from 1987 and who made design central to the marque’s image and
brand values. “I see them as a means of accelerating evolution. We take them
very seriously. That’s why we try to protect them from the external environment
—things like rules, standards, and regulations. The concept car inspiration gives
design direction and releases designers from the responsibility of knowing that
the vehicle will be produced. We try to put the target as far ahead as possible.”
Boosting morale at every level is one of the most important aspects of PSA
Peugeot Citroën’s design strategy, as design director Jean-Pierre Ploué made
clear in an interview for this book: “I push a lot for concept cars,” he says. “It
feeds the production cars at the same time. It’s a quick, efficient process: There’s
more freedom, less constraint, and it is good for morale.”
Following a period of unadventurous and formulaic production car designs
around the turn of the millennium, a series of creative concept designs beginning
in the mid-2000s had put Citroën designers back in touch with the company’s
radical roots and built up a climate of confidence and optimism, said Ploué. The
effect was now being felt in the latest production models, he noted.
A second and more commercially motivated tack is to bring a carefully timed
concept car to discourage buyers from choosing a competitor’s product—in
effect staking a claim to a piece of real estate in the marketplace. Audi’s 2003 Le
Mans concept, which directly previewed the 2006 R8 supercar, was a message to
elite sports car buyers to hold back from buying a Porsche; likewise, Audi had
everything to gain by previewing its 2010 A1 small car some three years before
launch with the 2007 Metroproject quattro. With no existing Audi in the
compact segment, Audi could sustain interest with customers who might
otherwise have bought a Mini or an Alfa Mito.
Jaguar, too, has succeeded in manipulating public opinion in a similar
manner, though from a position of weakness rather than strength. With sales in a
free fall and no significant new models for a painfully long time, Jaguar’s very
future was in doubt in 2005 and 2006. Investors needed reassurance that the
company had the means to survive, and Jaguar customers needed to know there
were exciting models in the pipeline that they could identify with. The solution
was the radical C-XF concept car, unveiled to an emotional welcome at the 2007
Detroit show; the production XF sedan, which followed a year later, got off to a
strong start thanks to the publicity generated by the concept.
C-XF
Jaguar’s sister brand Land Rover provides a good example of the tactical use
of concept cars to push public opinion in a desired direction. Land Rover rarely
produces concept cars in advance of a production model. In 2008, however, it
released the LRX concept for a compact, fuel-efficient SUV that still embodied
premium design values. Not only was the LRX a signal of the company’s
intention to open up a new market segment, but its timing in the midst of the oil
price spike provided Land Rover with a handy riposte to critics who accused it
of having nothing but antisocial, gas-guzzling heavy SUVs in its lineup. Four
years previously, Land Rover’s first-ever concept vehicle, a more rakish version
of the Range Rover known as Range Stormer, had been given an enthusiastic
reception. The production model that ensued, the Range Rover Sport, went on to
become the most profitable vehicle in the company’s history.
The Range Stormer example touches on another of the most important roles
of a concept car: to ask questions. The Stormer’s mission was to ask if the
buying public would be interested in a sporty Range Rover—and the response
was a resounding yes. Other concepts from other automakers have asked
different, and sometimes much more profound questions. A recent example is
the Infiniti Essence, presented at the Geneva show in 2009. This plush,
elaborate design in effect invited the public to pass judgement on the plausibility
of Nissan’s premium brand building a top-luxury GT sports car with the aura of
an Aston Martin. Some years earlier, Lexus—the equivalent brand from Toyota
—had posed exactly the same question with its LF-A series of concepts. The LF-
A is now in limited volume production.
Infiniti Essence
Nissan’s Qazana
More fundamentally, public reaction to a show car can assist management
decision-making by helping an automaker gauge whether a planned move into a
new segment will be right for the brand or whether it will be seen as too much of
stretch to be credible. Peugeot’s RCZ concept posed just such a question in
2008. Its mission was to establish whether a provocatively styled coupé from the
French company could be seen as a credible direct rival for Audi’s iconic TT
premium sports coupé (which itself began life as a concept car). The verdict
being judged positive, the RCZ went into production two years later.
Many such litmus-test moves have taken place over the years; some even try
to explore the position of a whole brand rather than just an individual model.
This exercise is not always as successful as managers have planned, however,
especially when it comes to highly image-sensitive super-luxury brands. Aston
Martin, globally admired for the impeccable design of its luxury sports cars,
found out the hard way when, in March 2009, it tried the concept car route to test
its idea for a model to revive its dormant Lagonda marque, a nameplate with a
long history of large and elegant luxury limousines for the aristocratic and
wealthy. The Lagonda concept, unveiled in the highly public forum of the
Geneva motor show, proved to be a bold and very imposing sport utility, as far
removed from Aston Martin’s design purity as it was possible to imagine.
Lagonda
Hypnos
The PSA design director’s message is clear: Future Citroëns will draw the
inspiration for their exterior surfacing from the complex and voluptuous
interlinking sweeps of this key concept model. The interior design of the Hypnos
deliberately pushes the boundaries even further with its rainbow colours and
bold, interlocking shapes. Citroën has no particular production-car agenda with
this interior—nor that of the smaller Révolte concept shown 12 months later—
but the work is nevertheless valuable in positioning the brand as a leader when it
comes to innovative thinking both inside and outside the car.
Révolte
While French, Italian, and often British and US design studies tend to focus
on innovation in the style and the actual format or role of the vehicle, concept
models from German and Japanese automakers often concentrate their
innovative power on the technology under the skin and can place less emphasis
on aesthetics as a result. Mercedes-Benz is the perfect case in point. The
imposing F700 from 2007, widely trumpeted as a blueprint for a next-generation
S-Class flagship, is hardly pretty by conventional standards of aesthetics.
Instead, its dramatic impact is due just as much to the astonishing technologies
built into the platform as to the challenging shapes of its unconventional outer
body. Mercedes reasons that its future customers need just as much time to
understand and appreciate new technology concepts—such as forward-looking
radar that scans the ground to pre-adjust the suspension for the bumps it detects
—as to become accustomed to fresh themes in exterior styling.
F700
The same reasoning could also be applied to the smaller Blue Zero, presented
as a concept in January 2009. An unremarkable body and a very standard-
looking interior concealed a remarkable electric-drive sandwich chassis
configuration able to run with either pure battery power, as a plug-in hybrid with
a range-extender engine, or with a hydrogen fuel cell for fully emissions-free
driving. The concept allows the same basic hardware and packaging to be used
for all three forms of propulsion, thus reducing the manufacturing costs of these
next-generation powertrains—yet it would have been easy to walk straight past
the exhibit because of its unremarkable exterior.
Blue Zero
Citroën’s C-Cactus of 1996 took a different tack to many French designs: Its
mission was not to explore the outer limits of avant garde style or futuristic
interiors, but to exploit the ingenuity of designers and engineers to produce a
highly CO2-efficient medium-sized family hatchback at a cost similar to current
models. To this end, it dramatically simplified the design of both the body and
interior, reducing the number of parts and the complexity of manufacture. There
was no separate dashboard, for instance; the windows were fixed; and the
unpainted doors had just two component parts instead of the usual 12. The
resultant savings, said Citroën, would allow such a model to be offered with
diesel-hybrid power—normally several thousand euros more costly—at the price
of a conventional model.
Citroën’s C-Cactus
This was a concept that, in the words of PSA design director Jean-Pierre
Ploué, was born not from a design brief or an aesthetic vision, but which
emanated from the philosophy of the design team to re-examine simplification,
recycling, and a minimisation to the necessary basics. True, with its bulging
grille, goofy headlights, and bulky rear, it sat uneasily under the showtime
spotlights, and its message was probably lost on the mass of casual show-goers
filing past the Citroën booth. But for industry insiders, it was something to study
and to savour: a set of ingenious solutions that, while not glamorous in the
conventional sense of the word, certainly got everyone thinking.
While Citroën’s Hypnos previews a new external style, the C-Cactus flags up
clever minimalist technologies and the Mercedes F700 goes to the opposite
extreme, Renault’s Zoe and Twizy are the first ambassadors for the upcoming
electric age. But it is perhaps left to BMW, a rare creator of genuine concept cars
rather than simply production preview models, to provide a truly complete
picture. Its 2009 Vision EfficientDynamics is a dramatic and compelling
glimpse into a plausible near-future high-performance coupé, yet it incorporates
lessons for smaller, cheaper models as well as flagging up a radical new surface
language that could be rolled out across a wide range of mainstream BMW
models. As such, the Vision EfficientDynamics is as much a manifesto for the
likely modus operandi of BMW’s new design director, Adrian van Hooydonk, as
it is a technological mission statement for BMW’s engineering division. As a
concept car, it ticks all the boxes—from glamour and visual wow-factor to
technical intrigue and design fascination; it is a breathtaking, tantalising taster
for how we could be driving in a few years from now.
Vision EfficientDynamics
Here, we have touched on just a few examples of the concept car builder’s
art; a proper appreciation of the concept car output of even the past three years
would take a book much larger than this. Nevertheless, there are many more
designs that fairness dictates must be name-checked: the remarkable momentum
of Nagare design studies from Mazda, which must surely presage breakthrough
models in the production pipeline; the imaginative productions of Korea’s Kia
and Hyundai; the prolific past output of designers at Chrysler Jeep, now in
recovery mode from bankruptcy; and, by coincidence Chrysler’s new controller,
Fiat, with its occasional and brilliant concept designs such as the EcoBasic and
the Trepiuno, which previewed the highly successful 500. While for Sweden’s
struggling Saab, now controlled by Spyker, concept cars like the Aero X were
very much a matter of staking out new territory to advertise its track back to
future survival, fellow countryman Volvo has used a series of imaginative design
studies to preview the XC90, XC60, and S60 production models and trail
important safety innovations such as pedestrian avoidance – again fulfilling a
key concept car function.
Trepiuno
Aero X
Yet no one should be under any illusions that this is the finished product. A
concept car under the floodlights on a motor show turntable is not like the
catwalk during fashion week in Paris or Milan. Buyers cannot simply whip out
their chequebooks the second they see a new style they like. Cars have gestation
periods counted in years rather than weeks and are vastly more complex to put
into production than even the fanciest hats, coats, or dresses. The million time-
consuming, dollar-gobbling steps between salon spotlight and high-street
showroom mean that automakers need all the help they can get in planning
ahead, anticipating changes in consumer taste, and avoiding costly fashion
blunders.
blunders.
Strangely enough, it is precisely because it does cost so much money to
develop and build a volume production car that the extra expense of a concept
vehicle is worthwhile. With manufacturers often having to spend up to a billion
dollars to put a new model series into the showroom, the financial stakes are so
high that no one can afford to make a mistake. The concept car is a vital part of
the strategy for, as we have seen, it is the perfect means of flagging up new ideas
and assessing public reaction. The carmaker can then get a clearer picture of
whether the new idea is likely to work well in volume production or whether it
needs tweaking in order to capture the buyers’ imagination; in this sense, the
concept car provides the ideal high-profile, low-risk means of staking out
territory and inviting comment.
More than anything else in the firm’s portfolio, the concept car is a powerful
statement of a company’s aims, ideals, and ambitions—a mirror to the visionary
thinking going on in the boardroom. At its best, a concept car has the power to
change the way the whole industry thinks—Giugiaro’s Megagamma of 1978,
Renault’s 1991 Scénic concept, and GM’s 2001 Autonomy “skateboard” spring
to mind. The truly good ones can indirectly boost the fortunes of a company—
think of how the Toyota RAV4, originally just a show concept, instantly caught
on as soon as it hit the showrooms—while those that are merely very good, like
Ford’s original Ka or Audi’s TT, translate straight into successful production
cars.
Autonomy
At the opposite end of the scale, a mistaken choice of concept can send the
wrong messages or spell out promises that may be impossible to fulfil.
Cadillac’s gargantuan Sixteen, a potshot at Rolls-Royce, now looks like the folly
of overambitious managers, and all the high hopes surrounding Jaguar’s
beautiful F-Type of 2000 backfired on the company, then owned by Ford, when
the project was cancelled. Even Dacia, Renault’s value brand, might have raised
expectations a few notches too high with its stylish 2009 Duster concept: the
production car that followed was sensible and simple, rather than progressive in
its language. Conversely, a too-conservative concept will signal a lack of
corporate vision or ambition; worse still, concepts that are over-the-top,
extravagant, or simply irrelevant are likely to fall embarrassingly out of fashion
the moment the show closes, if not before. Nevertheless, a special mention
should at this point go to the many weird and wonderful, and often totally
outrageous, study models wheeled out by the mainstream Japanese
manufacturers at the biennial Tokyo Motor Show.
Sixteen
2009 Duster concept
Nissan’s Pivo
Either way, however, concept cars provide a welcome freedom that designers
positively revel in, a rule-and regulation-free environment that allows their
creative powers to truly blossom. But, as the wilder excesses of too many
“design-gone-mad” show cars so graphically illustrate, it needs the gentle hand
of enlightened company management to ensure that those creative talents are
channelled in the right direction and not wasted on superficial and inappropriate
channelled in the right direction and not wasted on superficial and inappropriate
stand candy.
Risky? Only if imagination is lacking or management doesn’t know where
it’s going. For sure, a concept car is always going to be the freeze-frame of
future thinking at a particular instant, that shooting star whose light is destined to
burn brilliantly for a few fleeting moments before it falls, expended, to earth.
And its real value, as any designer imbued with wisdom as well as experience
will testify, lies in the inspiration that can later be drawn from that brief first
flash of brilliance.
Jean-Pierre Ploué
Yet since the last great icon of the Lyons era, the massively influential Jaguar
XJ of 1968, there have been many individual design directors who have made an
indelible mark on a brand or brands and who have influenced the history of car
design as a result. Italian Bruno Sacco quietly and confidently steered the design
of Mercedes-Benz cars for the quarter century to 1999, establishing the rock-
solid template that is the foundation of the brand’s modern identity; just down
the Autobahn at BMW, Wilhelm Hofmeister did an arguably even greater job in
transforming the German company from a maker of bubble cars and old-
fashioned limousines into a builder of distinctive sports sedans whose clear
identification with success and dynamism eventually allowed BMW to overtake
Mercedes as a premium car maker. At the turn of the millennium, another more
controversial BMW design director, Chris Bangle, would once again take hold
of the brand’s identity and seek to reshape it.
Yet it is not purely in the premium segment that a clear and consistent design
vision can help bring about change in the perception of a company. Right now,
Asian automakers such as Mazda, Kia, and Hyundai, are working hard through
design to forge a strong, positive message that will attract customers and help
ratchet up the recognition of the firm’s products. Behind this is a clear design
policy decided at the highest levels—and it is a fair bet that these companies are
taking their lessons from the textbook example set by Renault and its recently
retired design director, Patrick le Quément.
The Renault that le Quément joined in 1987 was an incoherent muddle, its
models ranging from the quirky and confusing to the forgettable and bland. The
only thing they had in common was that they did not sell well enough. His great
determination, matched by strong buy-in from Renault’s top management,
allowed le Quément to begin by bringing the quality of Renault’s products up to
scratch; he built up a strong design team and shepherded a series of
groundbreaking designs, such as the Twingo (whose designers included Jean-
Pierre Ploué), into production. By the mid-1990s, a stylish and coherent range of
well-accepted products was in place, and in 1997 le Quément came up with the
Mégane Scénic, a segment-busting family minivan that became a huge success
and left competitors struggling to catch up.
After two decades of le Quément’s carefully planned brand building, Renault
is now into its third generation of Méganes and Scénics and is widely respected
as an innovator in the volume market. “If you don’t want to do an anonymous
car, you have to take a certain risk,” he said at the launch of the Mégane II in
2003. “In the final analysis, our CEO takes the decisions—but I make the
recommendations. It is quite normal that a [new] car should not necessarily be
instantly likeable.”
The keys to the success of his policy, said le Quément, were to use design as
an instrument of product planning policy and to have design represented at board
level.
The situation facing Jean-Pierre Ploué when he became design director of
PSA Peugeot Citroën in 2008 was nowhere near as desperate as that of Renault
in the 1980s—but that did not mean the role was any less challenging. Both of
PSA’s brands enjoyed a strong position in small-car sales, buoyed up by tax
incentives favouring models with low CO2 emissions, yet sales outside of the
core western European market remained weak and it had been a decade or more
since either Citroën or Peugeot had had any success in the generally more-
profitable market for larger cars. Citroën, in particular, had sustained steady
criticism that its products had abandoned the marque’s famed futuristic feel to
become dull and anonymous, and both nameplates had been hit hard by the rise
in market share of premium and near-premium brands, such as VW.
futuristic feel
C-Cactus
“We’re getting there, but we haven’t finished yet,” he adds. “It takes time to
understand the brand, to see what you can do within a big company like PSA, to
find the right connections, and get to what you want to do. We’re working step
find the right connections, and get to what you want to do. We’re working step
by step to improve our technology and our quality and determining what could
be our future design language—grain, colour, harmony, all that. It takes time.”
Now, however, with Peugeot added to his portfolio, the stakes have ratcheted
up quite considerably. “Ever since I was given responsibility for two brands, it
has been more complicated,” he confides. “When you are boss of a single brand,
you put your heart and soul into it; it’s a part of you. It’s one baby to look after.
But as soon as you have two brands, you have to step back a bit.”
While Ploué is quick to concede that he is quite directive in the way he
manages design for the two brands, he is also confident at the same time that the
members of his teams are able to express themselves. “Of course, I have to
guarantee the design at the end—it’s what the [Peugeot] family and the people at
the top expect from me. But at the same time, you have to have the right
creativity and the right energy. You have to be able to allow people to do their
own work and to propose their own solutions. It’s a balance of control and
freedom from control.”
Asked if he still designs cars, Ploué bats the question away with a “far too
busy organising” gesture. Instead, he says, it is brands he now designs. Like
many in his position, he sees his role as someone who sets a framework and a
climate in which the creativity of others can flourish and bloom. Only rarely will
he sit down and sketch, he claims, even though a neat pocket-sized notebook
soon belies this.
Amongst the notes of meetings, phone calls, and supplier contacts are dozens of
neat design doodles sketched when he has a spare moment in meetings, in the
back of a car, or on an aeroplane. Often small details rather than complete
vehicles, Ploué’s doodles show the mindset of an active and creative designer at
work. They are the kind of detailed design solutions to issues, such as door seals,
bodyside sections, and pillar profiles, that only a practising designer would
realise are significant.
Characteristically modest, he declines to single out the design he is most
proud of. Instead, he says each project is different, each one brings a new
challenge and a new adventure. Inspired as a child by “the simplicity of a 2CV,
the luxury of a Delage, or a Citroën ID19”, he is nowadays motivated by an
unceasing quest for renewal and creativity, drawing in ideas from art,
architecture, sculpture, watchmaking—and, he is quick to point out, from
everyday contact with his design teams.
One of the key responsibilities of a design director is to encourage and to
inspire. “It’s my task to motivate and help team members overcome any doubts
that may crop up as a project takes shape,” he says. “You really have to summon
up all your determination to convince them. It’s very high risk but at the same
time extremely motivating.”
Yet, faced with the lofty objectives set for the two brands, Ploué and his team
will need every ounce of inspiration and motivation they can collectively muster.
The aim, says Ploué cautiously, as if to assess the reaction it provokes, is an
ambitious one—to make Peugeot a design benchmark for the auto industry and
to reinvent Citroën even more.
“I don’t think Citroën has done enough yet. In fact, it’s just the beginning of
the story—and my bosses probably agree too,” he explains. “But I think I will
have done a good job with my team if Peugeot becomes number one or number
two in the world in automotive design and if Citroën reinvents itself.”
Quite how these world standings will be evaluated is something Ploué does
not explain, though he refrains from commenting on the design of current
Peugeot models. Instead—and this comes as something of an indictment of
recent Peugeot efforts—he cites as the true icons of the Peugeot brand the 205
hatchback, which debuted in 1983, and the 406 coupé, dating from 1997.
205 hatchback
“There were plenty of good designs before these, but in recent times these
stand out. The 406 coupé displays all the good values of Peugeot—elegance,
balance, freshness, harmony, and also robustness, as this was always a Peugeot
quality. The 205 brought all the new values of Peugeot—dynamism, sportiness,
youth, urban chic—all that.”
Tellingly, both 205 and 406 were styled by Italian design house Pininfarina,
which had had a long-standing relationship with the brand and which had shaped
a whole host of elegant and influential models, including the 403, 404, 505, 406,
and, of course, the spectacularly successful 205. Yet surprisingly, despite the
historical success of these models, Ploué has no desire to return to the previous
historical success of these models, Ploué has no desire to return to the previous
practice of shopping outside for its design work. “To build a solid and strong
design philosophy, you need to do the work yourself. You have to understand
where you are and what you want to do before you ask people outside. You can’t
share this philosophy with them—as a supplier they have their own philosophy.
Pininfarina, especially, may more or less know what Peugeot is, but it doesn’t
know where we want to go. If we want to get Peugeot to the top, it would be
disruptive to call in someone from the outside.”
Only when a brand is confident of its own values and clear in its direction
would it be sensible to consider outsourcing the task of design; this, according to
Ploué, is likely to occur sooner with Citroën, which has in the past used Bertone
for models like the BX and Xantia.
Yet reinventing the Peugeot brand and elevating it to a high position in the
design world could prove to be a tougher task than the same exercise with
Citroën. Peugeot does not possess the same high profile in the popular
imagination as does Citroën. The latter still commands immediate respect for its
inventive engineering solutions, its futuristic body shapes, and its audacity to
innovate. It is linked with artistic and intellectual types, whereas Peugeot’s
traditional place has been in the bourgeois realm, its sober but elegant styling
housing robust mechanical components proven in rallies across Africa. Citroën
has icons aplenty—the 2CV for bohemian minimalism, the DS for a breathtaking
quantum leap in innovation, the GS for advanced engineering at an affordable
price. The quintessential Peugeot, on the other hand, is probably the bulletproof
505 station wagon—plus, of course, the chic 205, cited by Ploué and which
brought the brand a fresh urban audience.
Nevertheless, the Peugeot design team radiates the calm confidence that
comes with the knowledge that there are strong ideas in the pipeline that will set
the brand on its course towards regaining its design benchmark status. Gilles
Vidal, architect of many breakthrough concepts at Citroën, was swiftly moved
by Ploué, first to take charge of concept car design at Peugeot and soon
afterwards to take on responsibility for the full brand. Like his boss, he
maintains the party line of no advanced disclosure, but both hint heavily that a
new Peugeot concept car to be unveiled at the 2010 Paris Motor Show will
provide a very clear public display of the future direction the brand will take.
Barely disguised among these hints is the feeling that the new design will
somehow recapture the emotion of innovation and chic style that the 205 brought
to the Peugeot brand in 1983, but cast in a much more modern context as retro is
not a viable option.
Vidal has the added opportunity of bringing more focus to Peugeot’s strategy,
a policy which in recent years has seen a confusing mixture of mundane close-
a policy which in recent years has seen a confusing mixture of mundane close-
to-production mainstream models, strange three-wheeled buggy-scooters, and
outrageous supercar concepts that are so far disconnected from the core brand
and the prevailing social climate as to be dismissed as irrelevant. What has been
conspicuously lacking from Peugeot’s output has been the kind of design the
customer likes to see—designs which fire the popular imagination and provide a
vision of what production models might be like in five or seven years’ time. This
is what Citroën has become so good at, and the signs are that this might change
under Peugeot’s new leadership.
An early indication of Peugeot’s new thinking, though hardly mainstream,
came in the unorthodox shape of the tiny BB1 electric city car, first presented in
September 2009 and then publicly demonstrated in five European capital cities
over the course of the autumn. The genesis of this very well-received model is
intriguing, says Ploué. Designers, especially those involved in concept work,
pride themselves on being sensitive to what he describes as “l’air du temps”—
the spirit of the times, the mood of the moment. “They’re like sponges—they
filter and soak up what’s going on—it could be a trend, an event, a book, a new
architectural project; this is often where the ideas come from. Marketing people
could have got information from social studies and so on, but this not how it is
usually done. This is the difference between the designers and the commercial
guys who sell the cars.”
BB1
What became the BB1 started in two places, says Vidal. “We had a discussion
What became the BB1 started in two places, says Vidal. “We had a discussion
about small cars like this, and we also had a sketch. We wanted something with
a different attitude, a different posture—not just a new concept with new form
language, but a new morphology and a new kind of mobility too.”
There was already a model with three wheels, but this was not what Ploué
wanted to pursue as it was something Peugeot had done before. “We had all
these sketches, and we picked one of them [that] was very strong—but it was a
two-seater and it had three wheels. So I said to the team: ‘We need to do a car.
But we need to do something compact and incredible, and I want four wheels.’”
As the design progressed step by step, Ploué upped the ante by insisting on it
taking four people—at which point the engineers on the team began to protest
that this was impossible within the specified length of 2.50 metres. Yet, recalls
Ploué, those same engineers came back a week later with a solution that was
effectively two scooters, with the four riders sitting astride twin side-by-side
motorcycle-style seats. The breakthrough in accommodating the four people
was to have them close together and leaning slightly forward, as on a
motorcycle. This then led to the BB1’s characteristic forward-sloping
windscreen. For short urban trips, the level of comfort would be perfectly
adequate, reasoned the team.
motorcycle-style seats
“It’s true; that’s how it was born,” says Ploué with evident satisfaction. But,
as Vidal points out, the normal pattern is to have a discussion on a concept prior
to embarking on the sketches that lead to the designs and styles, which then
to embarking on the sketches that lead to the designs and styles, which then
determine the most suitable aesthetic to go with it. “The BB1 project was quite
special because there was a reflection on mobility [beforehand] and there were a
lot of sketches and morphologies, and the final definition of the concept came
afterwards,” he said.
Then, says Ploué, the marketing people were quick to understand the interest
in the concept and the strength of its design, working on the idea of mobility,
what kind of car this could become, and how to fine-tune it to suit the Peugeot
brand.
Precisely how a BB1-like production car would be tuned in to a dedicated
Peugeot wavelength might in the past have been the subject of intense and
perhaps bitter discussion. But as an integral part of his remit as design director of
the PSA group, it is one of Ploué’s weightiest responsibilities to establish the
strategic direction for each brand and to ensure that they are perceived as
different and individual in the market place—while, of course, maximising the
level of engineering commonality so as to keep costs and production complexity
to a minimum.
To this end, the teams have drawn up a comprehensive philosophical
presentation, linking Peugeot with the elements of earth and fire and the animal
qualities of a lion—physical, feline, and active; Citroën is positioned in the space
of air and water, with a touch of magic and the more intellectual, fluid qualities
of a dolphin. Examples taken from everyday objects and activities help clarify
the distinction. A Peugeot garment would be close-fitting, precise, and elegant
with an haute-couture touch, while Citroën’s style is softer, more extravagant,
and more flamboyant, with a feeling of theatricality.
Summing up the differentiation as applied to individual car components—it is
too early to see it materialised in actual vehicles—Ploué gives the example of
seating. A Peugeot seat is a sporty bucket seat, close-fitting, and supportive;
Citroën, meanwhile, might be characterised by a sumptuous lounging seat, much
like the bench in the rear of the Révolte concept car, where the seat turns the
corner and runs forward again. Peugeot drivers, likewise, are characterised by
their desire to take active control of the dynamics of their vehicles; Citroën
owners—perhaps with a more relaxed, more passive attitude to driving—are
happy to let automatic systems prevail and for the car to make decisions without
the driver having to intervene. An example is given in the future implementation
of lane departure warning systems. In Peugeots, these will take the form of a
warning vibration transmitted through the driver’s seat, as in today’s Citroëns; in
next-generation Citroëns, however, the driver’s course will be automatically
corrected as the system intervenes directly on the steering wheel.
Révolte
Yet the fact that inventiveness and Citroën can once again be uttered in the
same breath is a great tribute to the vision and the perseverance of Jean-Pierre
Ploué. Towards the end of the 1990s, when the creative spark seemed to have
been snuffed out at the brand’s design studios, Citroën had begun to flatline as a
me-too marque, distinguished from its competitors only by a more aggressive
price-cutting policy. He and his team were able to pick up that spark and run
with it, producing a series of memorable concept cars over the space of a decade,
launching five distinctive production models and building up a strong lineup of
new designs for future release.
Looking towards the future, Ploué foresees a time when—with reliability,
safety, and low emissions all taken for granted—the German solidity that
everyone currently craves will begin to seem like something from the past.
“We’ve got to the limit of this protective heaviness, this solidity, now,” he
declares. “People will come to expect designs that are more pure, more simple;
the main trend will be towards simplicity, fluidity, and lightness. This is what
people want, and it’s what we feel too.”
Yet, even with the advent of electric propulsion opening up the possibilities
of totally different mechanical layouts and dramatic shifts in external proportions
and appearance, Ploué is quick to rule out the temptation to be too much of a
thought leader, to be too far ahead of consumer tastes. “We are all working
towards Citroën and Peugeot being the best in design, being a step ahead. But
this is of no interest if we don’t sell the car. After all, what’s the point of
bringing an extreme design to the market if we can’t sell it?
“We should be able to aim our designs not for today’s customers but for the
customers’ tastes in three or four years’ time—and still be able to sell well in
customers’ tastes in three or four years’ time—and still be able to sell well in
seven years’ time,” he continues. “Look at the recent history of Renault design.
They have been very courageous with their designs—even the small Mégane,
which I like. The previous Mégane was a good design, but people didn’t like it—
they bought it because of Renault’s big dealer network in Europe.”
When tested in Citroën’s internal clinics against the C4, the Mégane’s results
were very poor, recalls Ploué. “I liked the design, but I wouldn’t have done it.
We are not just artists. We need to find a way of adapting to what the consumer
and the company want—so no more bizarre designs!”
Thankfully, however, this does not mean that interesting designs are ruled
out. Ploué promises that the DS5, the forthcoming big sister to the DS3 in
Citroën’s new semi-premium sub-brand, will have a “very strong design and an
incredible package,” and the go-ahead has been given for limited production of
the very extreme GTbyCitroën, an outrageously low and wide supercar
conceived for the Gran Turismo Sony PlayStation game and brought into
physical reality for the crowds at the 2008 Paris Motor Show.
GTbyCitroën
Monday
Monday morning. Time to engage the gears and plan for the week ahead.
Nothing happens before morning coffee, which we share as a team—exchanging
stories about our weekends.
Soon we are talking through some of the wider issues surrounding the
products we are engaged in. Most of the team went for a visit to the Eden Project
in Cornwall over the weekend and had a full day getting to understand the
motivation behind the project. The person who made it happen, Tim Smit, was
good enough to give a personal account of what inspired it, what its values are,
as well as how they may be relevant to Land Rover. This subject is vitally
important to our brand, as there is no doubt that the sustainability agenda is
going to be a huge one moving forward, especially for vehicle designers. Maybe
we have an advantage in that Land Rover is already associated with the natural
environment and is used by a variety of humanitarian organisations.
Environmental integrity shouldn’t be something to spray on a product; it must be
intrinsic, integrated, and holistic. We discuss how we can communicate these
aspirations in what we do on our latest project.
As for my weekend, London was a bit of a trip down memory lane. My time
As for my weekend, London was a bit of a trip down memory lane. My time
there at [Ford group design studio] Ingeni in Soho was so formative in terms of
my development as a designer, and the vision that the team had there still
informs what I do on a daily basis. It is absolutely true that as a designer you are
a product of your experiences and what you surround yourself with. Therefore,
where you are based and what you do in your free time will be a constant source
of inspiration.
I’m lucky that the studio where I work is a highly motivating place in terms
of facilities, environment, and team. I can reflect on my time working with this
team and what we’ve achieved over the years, culminating with the LRX, which
is going to be a fantastic product when launched. That’s when the job is at its
most rewarding, when a team creates a great piece of design, which is then
implemented into production as unchanged and as true to the original vision as
possible. Design really works best like this, uncompromised and fresh. It’s what
we all aspire to as we develop the products of the future.
We’ve moved on now from LRX; for designers there is always the next
vehicle in line to deal with. As soon as one is done, the next is ready to be
tackled. For the team in advanced design the aim is to really try to understand
the requirements of the market five, ten, even fifteen years ahead. It is a process
of defining the products people will want, how they want them to feel, and
which features and technologies they will expect. It’s about giving the products a
compelling narrative, or a “story.” Then it is time to start sketching and giving
life to the products, giving them form.
By 11 a.m. it is time for our team meeting. This is a forum where we discuss
aspects of the coming week’s work, as well as some wider plans for models
stretching into the longer term. This is important planning time. All of what we
decide will need to be programmed and resourced, so our programme managers
will have to liaise with the modelling and prototyping teams. These are situated
close to us within the building, and it is their job to bring our ideas to life.
Without them we cannot communicate our designs to the wider business and
beyond.
After lunch the team is sketching and developing designs, and I spend a bit of
time working with the clay modellers refining a full-size clay that will become a
vision property for one of our upcoming programmes. This model will indicate
the size, proportions, and general feel of the product the design organisation
believes we should make. This is a milestone model and will support all the
ongoing events that surround the progress of a design into maturity. It will
subsequently be handed over to the production design area to be refined, and a
deeper level of feasibility incorporated, before signing off for production.
At this point, though, I have to develop the clay without its upper canopy—
which means the entire roof and glazed area. This can be difficult and slightly
risky. I have to rely on experience and judgement and hope that when the two
halves of the model are united it will be what we want. Either way, I am totally
dependent on our sculpting team to give me what I have in mind, communicated
by words, gestures, and the sketchwork we’ve generated. These visuals are our
“contract” with the modelling team and the design director, so they are vitally
“contract” with the modelling team and the design director, so they are vitally
important to the process—as is the patience and good humour of the team. The
aim is to get things right the first time, but in reality design is a process of
development and there will always need to be changes and refinements.
Last thing today, we are meeting to discuss new design tools for the studio.
This means computer software mainly, not pens and pencils these days. Part of
what we do as advanced design is to test new tools and working methods and
propose new ways of doing what we do. We have developed many new key
skills over the last decade and now really rely upon designers to be able to
develop in 3D on the computer, to visualise their design in real-time packages.
This is above and beyond the 2D Photoshop skills, which are now absolutely
vital. Strange to think how little of this stuff existed when I started less than two
decades ago! On Thursday evening I will travel to Germany to talk to a supplier
about these new tools.
Leave the studio at about 5:30 and go to my gym for a workout, then home to
the family. Watch an interesting (no, really!) programme about the design and
corporate identity of the London Underground.
Tuesday
We start relatively early in the studio, so by the time most London creative
agencies are coming to life at around 10 a.m., some of the modelling team have
already put in three hours. Designers are in a little later, guiding their modelling
teams, dealing with issues as they arise. Whilst working on a clay, the demands
are constant: taping lines on surfaces, defining sections, engaging with engineers
on packaging and technical issues; all of these have direct knock-on effects on
the theme that is being developed. Working in the same space around the model
(as happens in Gaydon) is a major benefit, as issues can be addressed as they
arise. Surfacing, too, is part of the design team’s work, and all of this helps
greatly with communication and efficiency. Interaction can be the water cooler
kind, which is then backed up then by more detailed meetings.
The clay development is totally iterative, with the onus on the designer to
retain the spirit of the theme right through the feasibility process, preventing the
life being boiled out of a design in the process of adhering to the wider demands
of the project. These demands are significant and grow more difficult to
reconcile every year. Safety standards, cost pressures, technical proliferation,
supplier integration, product complexity, globalisation and increasing customer
expectation are all making the process of creating a new vehicle incredibly
demanding. Car design isn’t getting any easier! Some older team members go
misty eyed at the memory of how things used to be and how much fantasy there
was in car design. Admittedly, this aspect has diminished, but within advanced
design there is still the chance to dream, especially on a show-car project.
Later on I spend some time on Alias creating some surfaces that can be
transferred directly on to the clay. This is another way of interacting with the
model, and I personally find this way of working very effective. It is possible to
be too “precious” when manually working a clay; you don’t want to lose what
you have and can become afraid of taking a wrong turn. Plus you don’t want to
mislead your modelling team, as this is both inefficient and can cause friction.
These factors can work against experimentation with form, which is why it can
be easier to default to what they know works or, worse still, copying from other
brands.
Using digital form generating tools allows for experimentation, boldness, and
what’s more you never have to lose anything on the way. Plus there’s the
advantage that you can do what we are doing this afternoon: milling a clay on
our five-axis machine, direct from design-generated data. This is a tried-and-
trusted method now and is the most common method for starting a full-size
model.
So I walk to our five-axis milling department and watch as the machines do
their work virtually unaided, transforming a block of clay into a direct
representation of the car I had on my screen only a few hours ago. For me this
stuff is close to magic. I love being able to have this unmediated control, direct
from my imagination to reality.
Late afternoon—coffee with the team and discuss last night’s TV. While
working, I listen to music from my computer. We do have music in the studio,
but it has to be a bit lowest common denominator stuff. No one can relate to the
music I like, so I put on headphones and retreat into my own private zone for a
while. Looking around at the team members, they are mostly doing the same. In
fact, many in the studio are bathed in the glow of their “tube,” staring into their
own private, but shared, space. If it wasn’t for the clay models, there would be a
danger it could look like a call centre. . . .
Get home earlier tonight for some family time. European football’s on, which
Get home earlier tonight for some family time. European football’s on, which
I’m afraid I watch avidly.
Wednesday
Review with the team today to talk about the Eden trip and the progress of our
major project of the moment. We are concentrating on the exterior proposals and
will be comparing the work done by the main team with the results of some
recent graduates who are working in the studio for a short period. They are
gaining an insight into working in a major studio while giving us the benefit of
some really fresh new ideas, untainted by the baggage of too much real-world
experience. It is noticeable how long it takes to really get a grip on the
importance of the history and intrinsic values of a brand like Land Rover. After
some years, knowing what constitutes a Range Rover or a Land Rover becomes
second nature, but at first most students or graduates tend to design for
themselves, or for some generic brand.
Most young designers want to do low, sporting cars with open wheels and
loads of sculpture, but soon understand the real challenges of designing for a
brand like Land Rover and for real-world requirements. I think a designer
becomes really useful after a couple of years and is at their peak creatively from
this point on. How long it lasts is all down to the individual and his or her
circumstances. Some designers naturally slot in to more organisational and
managerial roles, whilst others are only comfortable exercising their creativity.
The key is to play to people’s strengths and where possible trust their judgement.
Back to the football: It’s like a team, some are born defenders, while others like
the glory roles, scoring all the goals. The Land Rover team thankfully has a good
mix of all these types.
The review goes well and there are some promising routes to go down. I think
we will build a number of Alias models illustrating a variety of product
concepts. These we will animate and test in market research clinics. Doing these
digitally has proved to be a very good way of testing the reactions of future
customers; it is cheaper than shipping models around, and you can try lots of
different things. Market research on design solutions and aesthetics is much less
productive; designers need to be ahead of the market and need to be trusted to
get this equation right. This is all vital to the process of product planning, and we
now work very closely with the marketing, strategy, and research areas in the
company to get the right products into our cycle plan.
Today involves a mixture of other things, a lot of taping again on the clay
model, which will be reviewed tomorrow. Also some Alias work on a top secret
“under the radar” project we are doing. I put in about an hour’s work on this a
day—I pick it up and put it down when I have time. I meet with our IT guys and
the advanced project manager to discuss the new design tools we want to try out.
These people are fully integrated with us and take away some of the
administrative work that needs to be done alongside the creative stuff. I am very
glad of this support: Without it we really couldn’t do our jobs.
Checked the dry fit of the upper canopy of the vision clay model last thing. It
fits precisely, which simplifies preparing for tomorrow’s review. Things aren’t
always so smooth, but the master data that we all work to now means that
stacking model parts is much more predictable now than in the past.
Tonight I go to the gym and later out to a pub that has live music. Where I
live a lot of this is just a walk away, as are three theatres. We get out to these
fairly often; it’s another creative world but quite unlike ours. I try to imagine
how a career in the theatre would be. Lots of personalities to deal with, real time
pressure, coming together to get to a result . . . maybe not so different after all!
Thursday
It’s a rush this morning. The model needs to be dressed to be viewed. That
means coating the surfaces in a painted foil called Dynoc, graphicing it up with
tapes, before putting it on its wheels (the largest we can justify—they almost
always look best) and rolling it out into the main part of the studio. People
always gather round a model when it’s being viewed. This can disturb a review
if you’re not careful, but models have a natural gravity for designers. Everyone
has a view and everyone’s is valid. But for today it is our director Gerry
McGovern’s view that is important. It’s down to him to set the direction and
McGovern’s view that is important. It’s down to him to set the direction and
guide the development of a design, along with his team. We need to get it right
for him so he can stand beside the result and sell it through the business and
ultimately at launch.
We view the model in our viewing garden. It’s surprising how different a
model looks outside. As it happens, we get a clean bill of health. Changes, but
not a major carve-up. I’m happy, but probably not as happy as the modelling
team who only have a very limited time now to get the model ready for the paint
shop and subsequent finishing next week.
Early afternoon and we have a joint Jaguar Land Rover advanced design
review. We do this occasionally to share our latest work and get feedback from
our colleagues, a kind of peer review. This is a good discipline, as the critique is
very open and can lead to genuine insights on a project. The fact that we are all
one team, while being geographically separated, both preserves the strong split
in DNA as well as giving each team the role of expert outsider to the other.
Otherwise, there is administration to finish, before heading off to
Birmingham airport for the flight to Germany tonight. I dislike flying and
generally don’t like being away for too long, so I’m not too concerned that
constant travelling isn’t part of our remit. The exceptions are when we support
some high level research in a nice part of the world, like Santa Monica for
instance. The research we did there a couple of years ago on LRX was not only
illuminating and enjoyable, but the spark of the idea behind the car was ignited
there. Seeing a Mini Cooper parked behind a Range Rover in the bright
Californian sun got me really thinking. The rest flowed from there.
Smooth flight—thank goodness, and a Eurobland hotel. (But the beer’s
always good in Germany!)
Friday
A big breakfast, then travel to the supplier’s offices. We talk over the issues and
make a lot of progress, while triggering some new ideas for how we designers
could work in the future. By mid-afternoon, we are finished and I meet some old
friends from the automotive design business. It genuinely is a small community
and most people know each other. People move around too, so they get to know
the different brands. This can lead to some cross fertilisation at times, but
actually the number of publications and websites devoted to auto design spread
the ideas around anyway. Real innovation and novelty can be quite a rarity. Still
it’s great to see old friends and discuss the moves, intrigues, and rumours.
There’s always something going on somewhere, and without the personalities it
would be much less interesting. Being here in Germany also reminds me of my
time in Stuttgart working for Mercedes Advanced Design. We eat and drink
time in Stuttgart working for Mercedes Advanced Design. We eat and drink
well, and it is a harsh transition into the cold night and onto the train to the
airport again for a late flight home.
Time in the air gives a chance to reflect on a productive week and to give a
little thought to the next. Designers never stop thinking about what they are
doing, designing in their minds, resolving 3D problems, wrestling products out
of the future and into the present . . . and it all begins again next week!
CHAPTER 7
THE DESIGN process
Factors that influence the design of a car include branding, function, and
useful effectiveness (usability), safety for both occupants and pedestrians,
vehicle security, and engineering, including cost, material, and manufacturing
constraints—such as component and platform sharing—as well as, increasingly,
environmental considerations such as recyclability, emissions, and the cradle-to-
grave life cycle impact of the automotive product itself. All of these factors have
the potential to have a compromising or even negative influence on the final
vehicle form.
Although differences may exist between individual organisations, the
automotive design process is broadly similar across all of the world’s
automakers. Typically, the stages of the automotive design process are the ones
we detail here:
Stage 8: Feasibility
Once management approves of a final design, the full-size clay is scanned to
create a new 3D digital model and generate final data to be used by engineering
and manufacturing operations to create final components and tooling parts.
Professor Dale Harrow, head of vehicle design at the Royal College of Art in
London—home to the world’s leading transportation design course—looks
at the nature of car design and considers how car designers have a
responsibility to wider society.
Dale Harrow
The engineering process has evolved to produce cars that have amazing
ability and function. The processes and methods used by designers may have
changed, but all car design starts with a sketch, a theme, or an idea that can be
developed and refined to a conclusion. Car design features a high degree of
experimentation through the development and reviewing of drawings and
models, where a three-dimensional object is refined and finessed through a series
of stages to its final solution. The process is unique in that despite the many
sophisticated technologies that allow designers to visualise and animate CAD
data on screen, many designs are still signed off for production on a final review
of a physical model.
SEAT Leon
Communication
Designers now talk about this being the age of emotions. Increasingly aware that
the consumer is an emotional being, savvy designers know that today’s
consumer is more sophisticated and better informed and so will be very critical
and want more control of the automotive products they buy.
J Mays, group vice president of design and chief creative officer at Ford
Motor Company, says, “We are in the entertainment business,” as he contends
that all cars are well engineered, and that it is design that makes the difference
and design that makes the emotional connection with the consumer.
We have many categories of style in the market at the moment—retro,
technical, sculptural, product design, toy, and eco. All set out to satisfy many
different consumers, and designers need to have an in-built radar to understand
them. When Audi launched the first TT—which proved to be a pivotal design
and very influential with its refined, pure logical shape—it immediately became
the car of architects, designers, and media people. The TT’s design
communicated technology, refinement, inner confidence and the high-quality
engineering value that the consumer wanted to be associated with. It’s no secret
that the designers involved were searching to find ways to visually suggest such
attributes to support and enhance the engineering and technical achievements,
including turbocharging, four-wheel drive, excellent production, etc.—
technologies that were being developed by Audi at the time and that had been
increasingly associated with the Audi brand. The Audi TT is a good example of
one of the fundamentals of good car design. It communicates the designer’s
intentions to the viewer in a clear and often subliminal way.
So, what tools does a designer have when creating new cars? There are form
and shape, obviously, line and surface, contrast, texture, colour, and material
finish. All can be used to bring out an overall design character.
But every designer wants to generate great design when they are faced with a
new challenge and a blank piece of paper. There are many different approaches
to this. Many car designers talk of wanting to achieve an emotional connection
in their work, a passion for the object that makes you want to buy the car. This is
often achieved by making the car dynamic—“looking as if is moving when
standing still” is a common term—with the use of diving graphic lines and a
sculptural body shape. Some say that the best design is one that can be easily
understood, drawn with few lines, and is defined by its simplicity and an
instantly recognisable profile. For others it’s the evocation and retention of past
values through the use of materials and historical reference. But for all cars to be
successful, they have to exist as a piece of sculpture (using surface form and
design), have good stance (the relation to the road surface and how it sits on the
wheels), great proportions (the relationship between wheelbase and overhangs
front and rear), have perfect volume (balance of mass of the sculpture in
relationship to its proportions), use graphics well (window areas, light, and
window shapes), and finally have surface lines and details that enhance the body
shape (door shuts and other lines on surface) in order to achieve the perfect
overall composition.
Consider, for example, how the car headlight has evolved in recent years—
and the amount of time, energy, and effort that has been put into the detailing of
that component. Marvel at the technology on even the average headlight and the
sheer quality of it. Headlights have become a reflection of the amount of
technology hidden inside the car and a reflection of the quality of the
engineering. Good design will communicate this.
For tomorrow
As we move further into the brave new world of the twenty-first century,
designers are creating our own futures as manufacturers look to designers to
communicate their brands and differentiate their products. The world of car
design is changing. There are new issues: climate change, urbanisation, an
ageing population, and increasing numbers of drivers worldwide. All of these are
going to have the greatest impact on car design in the future.
We are in a new age where traffic jams, congestion charging, parking spaces,
safety, and environmental concerns are all determinants of the changing
landscape for private and public transport. The motorcar, the defining machine
of the twentieth century and the technological achievement that facilitated
private transport for the masses, has to respond to the changing social, cultural,
economic, and environmental agendas of the twenty-first century.
Looking forward to the next decade, we can be sure that the car will adapt
and change. We will still crave personal mobility, but after what has been a
period of evolution and incremental improvement we can expect a revolution.
Some key designers share these views. Chris Bangle, until recently design
director of BMW Group, sees the car as an avatar—something far deeper than
just a form or shape. He describes the car as a vessel for personal expression and
emotion, for the person you become. He also suggests that if a car is an avatar
emotion, for the person you become. He also suggests that if a car is an avatar
then, by deduction, public transport is an elevator—something that goes from A
to B that you personally have little connection with. There will also be a new
category that Bangle calls swim fins—personal transportation, such as
skateboards, bicycles and Segways, which are part of the overall mobility
scheme.
The car industry is already changing radically, with new start-up companies
producing cars for the first time. The motoring landscape, where major
manufacturers develop and produce cars for a worldwide market, may change as
the technology for electric vehicles is much simpler to acquire and more
adaptable in its application. New lightweight materials used in the
manufacturing of cars will result in greater efficiencies in car construction,
resulting in environmental improvements in both the production process and,
ultimately, the products they build.
Aerodynamics will again become a major preoccupation for car design, and
this may also reduce the overall size of the car. Cars will be smoother and less
aggressive in appearance as they won’t need the big cooling apertures required
for internal combustion engines. As a result, they will fit in better with the urban
landscape and the changing social culture around the car in the city.
Cars will communicate with each other and to other road users so that they
can find less congested routes and avoid the possibility of collisions. In the city,
they may even have a function when stationary, becoming a piece of street
furniture or a display or information point—or even a store for energy.
New patterns of ownership, such as car sharing, will have an impact as
traditionally cars have been designed as a personal space and status purchase.
Imagine if the car interior self-cleaned or the exterior was finished in a material
that aged well and got better with time.
Car designers will have to respond to these factors in order to realise truly
successful designs. Good car design is the successful answer to the questions
that society raises, ideally in the form of an automobile that entices and excites
its customers and communicates its brand and even, perhaps, manages to be
beautiful.
CHAPTER 9
DESIGN AND identity
What comes to your mind when you think of the Ferrari brand? What
about Aston Martin, BMW, Citroën, Fiat, Mazda, or Volvo? Perhaps, more
importantly, what do you feel? Interest, excitement, passion, indifference?
The emotion you feel for an individual automotive brand will almost certainly
stem from your knowledge and understanding of it and any experience you may
have had with its products. But what about those more visceral responses you
may have, the subjective, more personal—even irrational—impressions of
beauty or aesthetic form? Real passion for autos is most likely to be generated by
a marque’s car designs and its design heritage.
One’s emotional responses to a brand are based on a myriad of factors that
are unique to each one of us. When it comes to cars, it’s not just a car’s
marketing and advertising that’s designed to seduce; the styling of the cars is
cleverly tailored to make us identify with the brand and ultimately desire the
cars.
Today’s automakers are looking to sign you up to become a loyal and
committed follower of their badge. They want you to buy their cars, and if you
can’t buy them, they want you to aspire to.
For most of the world’s design studios, the days when car design was solely
focused on the creation of automotive form have passed. The simple business of
creating attractive and desirable cars, if it ever was simple, has been surpassed
by the role that design now plays in the broader theatre of brand image and
communication. Today’s automotive industry demands that car design contribute
to the overall perception of the automaker.
Increasingly, vehicle styling is required to enhance a marque’s image in what
has become a very crowded automotive marketplace. These days design
directors will be as concerned with the brand message their latest concept
vehicles communicate as they are with the form resolution of their creations.
Distinguishing automotive brands used to be a lot easier in the days before
cars shared components and platforms, when car marques were singularly owned
rather than part of a global automaker’s stable. Today, cars can share a high
commonality of parts, often from the same component suppliers and even
between rival car companies. The result, along with more than a hundred years’
worth of technological advancement, safety regulations, and end-of-life
regulations, means that technical and performance differences between
competing cars are often slight—and to some car buyers, barely discernible or of
little interest to them.
This is where car design comes into its own, to bring as much individuality
and distinctiveness as possible to a product, to help it stand out and attract
buyers, whilst enhancing and underlining the values of the carmaker’s brand.
The marque’s identity and the message it relays need to be distinctive, clear, and
The marque’s identity and the message it relays need to be distinctive, clear, and
consistent.
To achieve this, car designers generate a design language constructed from
those historical and contemporary design elements that are considered of most
value. These elements are then used in the design of a vehicle to introduce,
enhance, or transition an automotive brand’s image. These design elements can
be explicit or implicit and are created to maximise the possibility of making an
emotional connection with as many potential car buyers as possible.
These elements are often part of a long evolution of an automotive brand. But
sometimes, for a range of reasons, automakers may decide that a marque needs a
revamp, to freshen its key brand values with the goal of achieving a whole new
image within the marketplace, created then communicated through product
design. It is at these times that change may be so dramatic that it seems more of
a revolutionary step than an evolutionary one.
Car brands that have undertaken such an image rebirth in the past include
Ford of Europe with its Kinetic Design initiative, Mazda with its Nagare (or
Flow) design identity, and Renault with its successful Touch Design language.
Other brands, including Audi, BMW, and Toyota, have all undergone significant
changes design-wise in order to enhance or manipulate their overall image
perception.
Nagare
Designers begin this process by asking themselves what lies at the heart of
their brand, what the marque means to consumers, and what is the brand’s
identity. They think about how consumers perceive the brand, whether it is being
communicated effectively, and whether the image is as the company intended it.
Only through such analysis can the difficult process of honestly evaluating
where a brand is positioned and how it is perceived within the marketplace
begin.
It is during this process that car designers work closely with marketing and
brand strategists to target how and where they may want to position or reposition
their brand. Once defining or, more commonly, redefining the brand has been
achieved, they then evaluate which elements of a carmaker’s design language
successfully communicate these brand values to consumers and which detract
from the desired message. In some circumstances, a whole new design language
will be created to revamp a brand, taking the best of its heritage, in brand and
design terms, and combining those elements with new ones that represent where
the automaker wants to take the brand.
Case Studies
Volvo
One of the most successful examples of such a brand reinvention is Volvo,
which began to create a new design identity in the early 1990s. Long marketed
for safety, solidity, and reliability, over the years Volvo had become so
associated with safety that it had become devoid of excitement in the eyes of
consumers. For years, this had been all that had been communicated through its
vehicle design. But when its competitors began to make serious inroads into its
market by improving their own safety performance, the marque’s design was left
lacking. Volvo cars were considered clunky, boxy, and brick-shaped, and they
were seen to be slow, heavy, and even dull.
The automaker needed to revamp its image with a cool, stylish Scandinavian
design language to get away from the sturdy, boxy, and, arguably, ugly aesthetic
it had become associated with. Under an initiative started by British designer
Peter Horbury in 1992, Volvo design began to change consumer perceptions of
the brand by transforming its look. Horbury set out to replace the utilitarian
designs of its earlier cars with a more stylish design language. Distinctive curved
surfaces and an overall softer form became part of the marque’s designs, while
Horbury maintained key Volvo design cues, such as the V-shaped bonnet and
upright grille. Through beautiful designs including the C70 and S80, the
carmaker was able to gradually change consumers’ perception of its brand by
suggesting that in addition to safety Volvo cars also stood for attractive design.
C70
Audi
Perhaps the automotive world’s most transitioned brand, Audi has successfully
managed the visual design identity of its products and ensured it has a unified,
coherent visual identity across its entire media.
In the early 1990s Audi set out to reposition its brand and move it upmarket
by communicating its underlying brand values—which were summarised in the
cue words human, leading, visionary, and passionate—and aimed to give Audi a
greater emotional appeal.
Audi realised it needed to encourage an emotional connection between
consumers and its brand. Its management knew that car buyers no longer
purchased its cars for purely practical or rational reasons and reached a similar
conclusion as Volvo did.
Audi began to set itself apart through a commitment to advanced
technologies, including aluminium, which was displayed beautifully on the 1991
Audi Avus Quattro concept—penned by J Mays—and later seen on the A8
concept introduced at the Geneva Motor Show in 1994. Ultimately, this use of
aluminium became so closely identified with the German automaker that it
contributed to the communication of its key brand value of being seen as
technology leader.
Avus Quattro
Ultimately, the Avus concept’s form led to the shape of the Audi TT coupé
and roadster concepts, both launched in 1995. These cars took heritage Audi
design elements and combined them with stylish design cues from the Avus
concept to build a new design language for the brand. This new design language,
in combination with the established brand slogan Vorsprung durch Technik
(“progress through technology”), helped Audi successfully gain its desired place
within the premium segment.
Today Audi design’s goal remains the visual communication of Vorsprung
durch Technik by blending form and function harmoniously. Audi designers
communicate this technological leadership via a design language that has
incorporated strict, well-defined guidelines to suggest premium, progressive and
sporty elegance. In many respects, the carmaker has succeeded in taking the lead
it set out to achieve in the 1990s, resulting in what is arguably the car world’s
strongest visual identity.
Mazda
In recent years, Mazda’s products have undergone an equally substantial design
evolution using its still emerging design language, Nagare. The Japanese
carmaker unveiled the first of its new concept vehicles at the LA Auto Show in
2006. Called Nagare—the word for flow in Japanese—the car had a dramatic
futuristic wedge-like shape and an unusual exterior body form with textured
surface elements.
Nagare
The Nagare concept was notable not just for its unusual form, but also
because it was visually different to the three concept vehicles that had preceded
it. Why, when these cars had been so successful, would the automaker make
such a significant, and risky, transition in terms of its brand image?
Led by the then Global Design Director Laurens van den Acker, Mazda felt it
needed to communicate its brand image better. At the time, the company’s
marketing identity was synonymous with its famous “zoom-zoom” tagline.
Zoom-zoom communicated the promise of an exciting and emotional motoring
experience for Mazda drivers. The design studio set out to capture the driving
spirit embodied in zoom-zoom into a new, bolder design language and to
communicate such emotion even when the cars were stationary. Such dramatic
and fundamental shifts in the re-imagining of automotive brands are relatively
rare. They are risky because they can alienate existing customers and require
true courage and vision on behalf of the automaker.
Designers began by evaluating the marque and summarised the brand into a
series of adjectives—zoom-zoom, young, stylish, spirited, insightful, emotion in
motion, innovative—all had become associated with Mazda over the years. Also,
Mazda products were heralded for their exceptional functionality, responsive
handling, and excellent driving performance. The design team concluded that
such powerful brand characteristics were not being communicated as effectively
as they could be and wanted to create a new and fresh aesthetic that would
redefine the Japanese carmaker, one that visually communicated the brand, and
that would become something that it could “own” from a design perspective.
The most obvious element that the design team created was the exterior
surface treatment itself, first seen on the Nagare concept, and used in the four
subsequent concepts the Taiki, Furai, Ryuga and Hakaze. The unusual textured
surfaces were designed to enhance Mazda’s image by conveying fluid movement
even when the car was stationary. Designers achieved this by suggesting airflow
or water flowing over the vehicle’s side surfaces. Such surface design, so
unusual in terms of its texture, was created to play with light to suggest that the
car was speeding through the air, thus communicating the brand’s dynamic
driving characteristics. This became a fundamental design cue for all of the
Nagare concept vehicles and thus for the Mazda brand. Although the textural
surface elements vary depending on vehicle type, it quickly became a
recognisable Mazda design cue, as did the five-point grille and head and taillight
treatments.
Taiki
Furai
Hakaze
CHAPTER 10
NEW FRONTIERS IN car design
You won’t find any powerful luxury cars, heavyweight SUVs, or 200-mile-per-
hour supercars parked outside the offices of Gordon Murray Design—even
though Murray is the father of one of the most sensational sports cars ever built,
the three-seat McLaren F1, as well as the architect of many of the Formula One
designs that dominated the racetracks from the 1970s to the 1990s. Instead, it’s
smaller and more modest cars that monopolise the GMD parking lot: Minis,
Polos, the odd Toyota iQ, Mitsubishi i, and new Fiat 500. Murray himself is a
fan of the old 500 and assorted smarts—and indeed there are two smart Roadster
coupés parked in the directors’ bays closest to the main entrance.
Such a swing towards smaller and more intelligent cars comes as no surprise.
Gordon Murray Design is one of many engineering consultancies worldwide
now turning their expertise toward conceiving cars that are more compact,
lighter, and more economical, rather than ever faster and more powerful.
Murray, famous in Formula One for his radical but invariably effective
solutions, has been able to mobilise this free-thinking inventiveness to develop
not just a new family of vehicles, but also a low environmental impact
manufacturing process to go with them, insisting that a lightweight design is by
far the best tool with which to chase low fuel consumption and low emissions.
2+2-seater luxury coupé
One of Murray’s new family of vehicles, codenamed T25, is a tiny city car,
shorter and narrower than a smart Fortwo but which seats three and is able to
swallow an impressive 750 litres of cargo with just the driver aboard; most
impressively of all, however, is that it weighs under 600 kilogrammes—half the
weight of a compact hatchback such as a Polo—and is capable of double the
economy. By any standards this is a dramatic rewriting of the rules of the car
business, and Murray is negotiating with potential production partners among
leading auto-sector suppliers.
While Murray’s T25 has a small gasoline engine mounted in the rear, the T27
battery model under parallel development offers designers even greater
flexibility when it comes to the positioning of the major mechanical and
electrical assemblies. No longer is there the large, immovable lump of the engine
and transmission unit to force the proportions and the packaging of the vehicle.
Batteries can be placed almost anywhere (though low down and in the centre is
clearly best for handling and stability), and the relatively compact motors can be
located on either axle—or even in the wheels themselves.
Such freedoms provide engineers and designers with an unaccustomed
opportunity to rethink not just the way vehicles are powered, but also how they
are configured and packaged, where the hard points are, and where the
are configured and packaged, where the hard points are, and where the
passengers and luggage are accommodated. An unusually prescient concept was
presented as early as 2002 by GM in the United States: the Autonomy, running
exclusively on fuel cell electric power, contained all its engineering within its
thin skateboard-like chassis, leaving designers free to choose different upper
body superstructures to suit the vehicle’s commercial role.
The primary structure of Murray’s T25 is in effect the same thing: All the
mechanical elements are contained within this chassis module, and it takes all
the point loads of the suspension and seat belts so that it can be driven on its
own, even minus the unstressed upper bodywork. The scope for multiple body
variations at little extra cost is clear.
“Customers must be reassured that this is a real car, that you can trust it, that
it will drive and handle well,” she says. “So we have made it similar to
[conventional] automobiles.”
Yet the details, she says, are definitely not similar to those on conventional
cars, and here Think does begin to advertise its alternative status. The body
panels are unpainted textured plastic with a matte finish, for instance,
emblematic of the sustainability ethos that underpins every aspect of Think’s
business. “People want to show they have made a different choice,” she
explains.
Von der Lippe sees fresh approaches developing as customers become more
familiar with electric vehicles. The 2008 Think Ox concept, for instance,
proposed a TFT screen-coated A-pillar that could convey messages, such as state
of charge and availability for lift sharing. Yet even with these advantages, she
does not see dramatic changes in format or shape for small electric vehicles:
“Think will still be in the automotive realm and still clearly recognisable as a
car. Yes, we will be more towards a consumer product than other manufacturers,
and to some extent we will be the missing link between private and public
transport. But the personal car will still be an important thing, and customers
will still relate to the car—so cars need a stronger identity than consumer
products.”
2008 Think Ox
Fisker Karma
luxury sedan
Mainstream programmes
However, not all those dipping their toes into the electric car business are high-
minded start-ups or idealistic engineers with visions of a zero-emission future.
The big firms are keen to get in on the action too. Anyone visiting any of the
major international auto shows in 2009 would have been left in little doubt that
the future is electric, or at least plug-in hybrid electric. For mainstream
automakers, having a battery-powered car on display brought an immediate
impression of future-mindedness, of a willingness to embrace the challenge of
carbon—even if, as was the case with both Audi and Mercedes-Benz, the electric
cars in question were prototype high-performance supercars derived from
existing gasoline-powered designs. As the decade drew to a close, the only
company to have shown a proper, production-ready electric car was Nissan. Its
five-passenger Leaf small car is not radical in its styling themes, though it is
easily distinguished from the Tiida small car on which it is based.
Leaf
Rather more exciting to the show-goer have been the various concept cars
developed by automakers such as Renault and intended to give future customers
a clearer idea of what battery driving might look like. While the Renault Fluence
ZE is a near production-ready electric version of the combustion-powered
model, the Zoe ZE proposes an unusual proportion and much interesting design
detailing for a Golf-sized family car running on electricity. Emerging fast as a
signifier of electric power is the use of cool blue LEDs and highlighting, in
much the same way as automakers are now employing strings of LED running
lights to provide brand-specific frontal signatures for their models.
Zoe ZE
Twizy
A new approach
Electric power in its various forms—pure battery, plug-in hybrid, and fuel cell
hybrid—clearly offers the greatest potential for a Lego-set approach to car
design, allowing the individual pieces to be dismantled and rearranged to form a
new shape or package. The Mercedes-Benz Blue Zero concept (discussed in
chapter 5) is another important pointer toward the future freeing up of design
through the use of a shared sandwich chassis across many different versions.
As with Murray’s T25 and the French electric car projects, the Blue Zero is
able to exploit new technologies and engineering methods to help advance new
packaging concepts and body-style formats. Yet automakers who seek to do this
the other way round do so at their peril. In line with the industry consensus,
engineers at Gordon Murray Design believe the original smart, though
revolutionary in concept, would have been successful much sooner if it had not
been built using the conventional method of welded-steel pressings. “The smart
is as small as you can go by scaling down conventional technology,” says design
director Barry Lett, noting that its manufacturing investment is similar to that of
a larger vehicle. “We want to ensure [our T25] has a much lower start-up
investment than the smart.”
smart
Yet what the smart has unquestionably done is open up consumers’ minds to
the idea of a microcar, and in consequence it has given other automakers the
confidence to move into this area. Competitors to date have been largely
conventional and generally seek to provide more flexibility and to seat more than
two within a footprint that is little or no larger than the smart’s. Good examples
of what can be achieved by rethinking and redistributing conventional hardware
are the Mitsubishi i—which mounts its engine centrally under the floor for more
passenger space—and the Toyota iQ, which rearranges the gearbox and
differential on a standard front-drive platform to allow an asymmetric 3+1
seating layout within a length of under three metres.
Mitsubishi i
Nano
However clever these cars are, few would label them revolutionary or mould-
breaking. Perhaps more dramatic in this respect is the step taken by India’s Tata
—in a very different corner of the market to the classy city car territory inhabited
by the Mitsubishi and Toyota. The Nano, announced in 2008, is the result of
Tata boss Ratan Tata’s personal mission to bring an ultra low-cost car to help
mobilise the many millions of Indian people who today travel in great danger,
with whole families often crammed onto a single flimsy motorcycle. By
providing a car at a price midway between a scooter and existing small cars,
Tata believes he can tap a lucrative market at the same time as making family
travel safer and more comfortable.
To achieve the targeted 1-Lakh price—that’s around $1,500—Tata’s design
team had to come up with innovative engineering and clever solutions, many of
which involved keeping the weight low and making sure as many components as
possible perform multiple functions. The packaging concept—tall, narrow, and
with the engine between the rear wheels—helped with the lightness, and the
simplicity of assembly was aided by the one-piece dashboard moulding and the
single instrument unit.
Indeed, lightness—both visually and in terms of kilogrammes—is emerging
as the common theme across a whole raft of forward-looking design projects. It
is especially important in electric vehicles, where the batteries themselves can
account for a high proportion of the all-up weight. Lightweighting is a virtuous
circle. The lighter the basic structure, the lower the braking and suspension loads
are, enabling lighter suspension and brakes; lower weight also means less
consumption, allowing for a smaller fuel tank or battery for the same range,
again permitting a further round of weight reduction.
For Gordon Murray—schooled in the science of racing cars, where every
unnecessary gramme is a competitive handicap—strict discipline on the weight
front is the key starting point for his new generation of city cars. “Light weight is
the tool we have right now to help us with fuel consumption and emissions,” he
says. “No matter what powertrain you’ve got, light weight is working for you
one hundred per cent of the time.”
While light weight is at the heart of the T25/T27 concept and underpins his
new low-energy iStream manufacturing process, Murray admits that most of the
major companies visiting his operation have been more interested in the
production systems than the T25 design itself; in fact, programmes T26 and T28
—Murray’s projects are always numbered chronologically—are studies for a
Japanese and a European carmaker, respectively.
“All these projects use iStream,” he says. “And they all have the advantage
that iStream gives in low capital investment, low-energy manufacturing, low
lifecycle damage—and flexibility of different bodies on different chassis.”
Management inertia and huge amounts of investment tied up in conventional
stamped-body manufacture have meant that automakers have habitually steered
clear of new ways of making cars, says Murray. Recently, however,
environmental pressures, the recession, and the need for rapid product flexibility
have forced the automakers to sit up and realise that they do need to change.
Most of the senior executives visiting Gordon Murray Design are coming from
Most of the senior executives visiting Gordon Murray Design are coming from
the perspective of possible parallel production and wanting to do a business
study, he judges. “If the business case looks good enough, you’d just start it in
parallel. It’s nothing to do with losing stamped-steel cars overnight—it’s to do
with something more sustainable in terms of energy, and it’s a lot more to do
with having a platform that can deal with the volatile market. Even with platform
sharing these days, once you’ve spent your hundreds of thousands on the dies,
the stamping tools and the body-in-white shop, that’s what you make. And if the
public doesn’t like it or someone else comes up with something better, you’re
stuck with it. Any change in a stamped-steel platform is expensive.”
Revolutionary though Murray’s iStream manufacturing process undoubtedly
is, it will not be immediately obvious to the customer—apart, of course, from the
advantages it promises in terms of price, performance, and fuel economy.
Ironically, where Murray’s initiative may have a much bigger impact is in a non-
technical domain—that of branding and the new business models that might
follow.
New technologies, such as fuel cell and battery power, are already drawing in
suppliers from outside the traditional auto industry. These suppliers have no
fixed assets committed to conventional manufacture (such as engine production
or stamped-steel plants) and are thus open to new approaches; so too are the so-
called Tier One suppliers—major producers of subsystems, such as electronics,
suspensions, brakes, who are generally prepared to work for anyone who will
buy their products. What these potential groupings do not, however, have is any
automotive brand name—and this is where the big jump may come. With both
propulsion technology and manufacturing reaching important turning points, this
could be the perfect opportunity for a non-automotive brand to pitch in and grab
a slice of the market for mobility. Names such as Sony, Dell, Easy, Apple, or
even Google spring to mind. These are global brands with high recognition
across all age groups and would have a major head start over any other
newcomers to the sector.
This is why Gordon Murray and his head of design, Andy Jones, have
deliberately designed the T25 as an unbranded car. “Its style is a vanilla one,”
says Jones. “It’s not masculine or feminine, young or old—the shape is very
generic. There is nothing striking, no classic design cues, such as the VW front.”
The thinking here is to pitch the design as a blank canvas, a fresh surface on
which the chosen brand can apply its own identity. “We have been approached
by some non-automotive companies, and it’s very exciting,” says Jones.
The model’s wraparound dashboard design presents major opportunities for
linkages to these new brands and to create exciting multifunctional and
interactive interior environments never before seen in any car, let alone a small
and affordable one. “An Apple version could have a bespoke centre console, for
instance,” says Jones, “and its membrane switch technology, as seen on the
instance,” says Jones, “and its membrane switch technology, as seen on the
iPhone, could be used on the dash. Downloadable sat-nav, integrated MP3,
fantastic sound—anything’s possible.”
And with Murray’s new business model as just one of many initiatives to
approach car design from completely fresh angles, it does indeed appear that
anything is now possible. The sweeping under-the-surface changes taking place
in the auto industry will of course take some time to filter through into radically
new shapes on the road, and the scale of investment makes it unlikely that the
car business will ever experience the four-wheeled equivalent of the iPod—an
innovation that completely revolutionised the way people listen to music and
media. But the sense right now is that we are closer than ever before to just such
a new era—the exciting new world of car design, where old values are
overturned and creative, forward-looking thinking can at last flourish.
GENESIS OF A revolution
“The idea began in 1993 when I was stuck in a traffic jam on the A3
motorway and, looking around me, realised that all the cars around me were
large but with just one occupant. At that stage I was only thinking about
congestion, not pollution.
“Conventional small cars use proportionally fewer materials than large
ones, but the number of parts is about the same—so I began to think about
the manufacturing process too. It had to be low energy and the platform
the manufacturing process too. It had to be low energy and the platform
would have to be flexible so it could be used for other vehicles, such as
pickups, a van, an inner-city ambulance, and so on.
“I started off with the footprint. A natural length was 2.4 metres, which
would allow it to park nose-in to the kerb; the width of 1.3 metres allows
two to run in parallel on each lane of a dual carriageway.
“We really wanted to capture the urban market, so we looked at six
functions, including dropping people at the train station, leaving the car at
the station, dropping your kids at school, a week’s shopping for a family of
four or five people. It was pretty obvious that the car had to be a minivan to
do that. The next big step forward was the seating layout, the occupancy—
and, of course, the powertrain. We needed to select that at an early stage. It
becomes pretty obvious that if you want to make a car substantially under
three metres and still have some crash length, you’ve got to put the engine
at the back. It’s forced upon you, really.
“In the UK, eighty-five per cent of all car trips are single occupancy. But
“In the UK, eighty-five per cent of all car trips are single occupancy. But
you can’t design a car for facts and figures—you’ve got to get out there and
talk to people, and you’ve got to look at cases like the Smart. So many
people would rather buy something slightly bigger with four seats, even
though they probably never have more than two in the car.
“We had this dilemma: two-point-four metres is tiny. It’s either going to
be a single seater or have more than two seats; at one-point-three metres
wide, side-by-side seating is going to be impossible when it comes to
passing impact tests from the side. Comfort, too.
“So the McLaren layout that I dreamt up for the F1 seemed perfect. That
gave us the flexibility on the market. Capturing the shopping market will
give us the biggest gain in appeal. This will be a first-time buyer’s car, a
student’s car, or a second car in a family. It will never be the only car in a
family. If you have a smart in the family and you want to do the shopping,
you’ll probably take the big car so you can open the boot and chuck
everything in. So six shopping trolleys was our target. You need about five
hundred or six hundred litres for the average number of bags for a family of
four or five’s weekly shop. We have that—in fact, if you pack the thing to
the roof, you’ve got seven hundred and fifty.
“It’s a completely flat floor at a good height for your back and with no
lip to lift over. We’ve tried to think about absolutely everything to assist the
market. We’ve also done a design for a van, and it’s brilliant. It doesn’t take
much more design to get a cubic metre of load space.
“We’d been looking at various materials. What I didn’t want was any
steel pressings. The smart went a little way there, but they’ve still got a
pressed-steel section—I think it’s about one hundred and thirty parts—to
make up the Tridion. My thinking was that if we are to make a break from
an investment point of view and an energy point of view, we don’t want
any pressings at all. So apart from a few minor stampings for strut tower
caps and brackets and things, which come from a jobbing shop, our factory
doesn’t need a press plant. It doesn’t have a body in white plant; it doesn’t
have an E-coat or paint plant.
“The other thing I was keen to do was to open up the opportunity for the
build-to-order car. If you stamp a car, you have this pristine, Class-A
[visible exterior panel finish] body, which you have to E-coat. Then you
have to go straight to paint, which has to be under clean conditions and a
partial vacuum. You take it out of that and hope it hasn’t got any grains of
dust under the paint. Then you don’t want to move it under any
circumstances more than a few metres to your assembly plant.
“We don’t have that issue. Our frame is very damage tolerant. It’s a
“We don’t have that issue. Our frame is very damage tolerant. It’s a
combination of quite coarse composites and steel tubes; there’s no Class-A
finish involved. You could have a central frame plant. The bodies are all
injection-moulded and painted somewhere else. A Tier One could make the
frames and ship them in on the back of a truck, because you can stack them
with some very cheap stillaging. We’ve designed them so that compared
with bodies in white you can get twelve times the number of frames in a
shipping container. They stack like IKEA furniture—it’s a flat-pack car.”
CHAPTER 11
CHANGE OR continuity?
Crisp, fresh, pure, and above all modern, the original Giugiaro-designed Golf
was just what was needed to fire up a Volkswagen organisation that had become
stuffy and unadventurous. Buyers were fired up too, flocking to the new VW in
droves as the Golf came to be seen as the successor to the legendary Beetle as
the true people’s car—or Volkswagen. The Golf’s hatchback format and its taut
and precise (but still friendly) design language inspired a generation of imitators,
while its powerful C-pillar, forward-kinked at its leading edge, became a key
Golf identifier and something that would be retained to provide an instant
identity for five further generations of Golfs.
A single facelift midway through its long nine-year life brought broader rear
lights and bigger bumpers to add substance to the Mk 1’s design, but the sheet
metal remained unaltered and the sporty GTI and groundbreaking Cabriolet
remain icons to this day.
FIAT Ritmo/Strada 1978 Styled by Bertone with smart surfaces and a wealth of
unusual features, the Ritmo/Strada was big news in 1978 as an aspiring Golf
challenger. It was unusual for its era not only for being assembled by robots, but
also for its radical take on details. Quality and reliability were poor, however,
and despite facelifts in 1982 and 1985 aimed at making the design more
mainstream, the Ritmo never sold well outside its home market.
RENAULT 9 (1981) & 11 (1983) Taking over from the characterful but
troublesome Renault 14 hatchback in 1981, the 9 and, two years later, the 11,
were the French company’s attempt to build a family car with Japanese levels of
efficiency. Unfortunately, both the 9 sedan and the 11 hatchback proved to be
desperately dull designs, and reliability was still patchy—ensuring former
Renault buyers shopped elsewhere for their next car.
VOLKSWAGEN Golf Mk 2 1983
A Volkswagen in-house design that nevertheless retained the key visual cues of
the Giugiaro original, the Mk 2 of 1983 signalled a move away from the
lightweight clarity and big-window feel of the Mk 1 towards the weightier and
more substantial look that would come to define the Golf brand for the next three
decades. Still evident on the Mk 2 are the angled flat bonnet drawn by Giugiaro
for the Mk 1, as well as the thick, parallel-sided C-pillar and the full-width
rectangular grille, red-rimmed on the iconic GTI version. Yet the surfaces are
less crisply defined and there is less energy in the design language.
Compared with the Mk 1, there is more mass to the body and less emphasis
on the glasshouse—especially evident at the rear where the horizontal graphic of
the rear window contrasts with the near-square proportions of the original
tailgate glass. Nevertheless, despite these many changes, the Golf identity is
clearly carried over.
OPEL-VAUXHALL Kadett E/Astra 2 1984 A complete change of theme came
in 1984 as the Kadett/Astra embraced the aerodynamic era with a smooth,
rounded design with a high, Alfasud-like tail. The shape worked best as a
hatchback, especially in its characteristic white, but none of the versions showed
any continuity with the previous model.
FORD Escort Mk 3 1980 This was the big culture shift at Ford as its
mainstream model moved over to front-wheel drive. The styling was crisp, fresh,
and innovative—in particular the much-discussed “bustle back,” which sought to
combine hatchback practicality with an element of the look of a sedan to appease
conservative customers. This was a passable shot at a Golf competitor,
especially as the Mk 1 version of the VW had by now been in production for six
years.
FIAT Tipo 1988 Fuelled by the success of the progressively styled Uno, Fiat
hoped a radical approach to the replacement for the fading Ritmo would bring
parallel success to its larger hatchback range. The Tipo enlarged the Uno look
and had a distinctive rear glasshouse with twin parallel C-and D-pillars, yet even
with a lot more interior space than its rivals and the reassurance of a rustproof
allgalvanised body, it lacked the charm of the Uno and did not sell as well as had
been hoped.
RENAULT Renault 19 1988 Styled by the master, Giugiaro—who had shaped
the original Golf—the Renault 19 had clean and simple, if unexciting, good
looks and sold steadily for almost a decade as a hatchback, a sedan and, for the
first time, a convertible. There was little visual continuity with the unloved and
insignificant-looking 9 and 11, but the facelifted versions introduced in 1992
paved the way for the frontal identity of the 1995 Mégane, a critical family in
Renault’s revival.
VOLKSWAGEN Golf Mk 3 1991
FORD Escort Mk 4 1986 Buyers quickly saw the 1986 Mk 4 Escort for what it
was—a superficial makeover of the 1980 version. The facelift consisted of little
more than detailed tweaks and a general rounding off of styling features such as
the lights and grille; the effect might have been in tune with contemporary tastes,
but it diluted the fresh feel of the original design.
FORD Escort Mk 5 1990 This was a relaunch that backfired badly as the press
rounded on the dull style of the new Escort’s body and the inadequacy of its
engines and its chassis. The more rounded theme reflected the mood of the
moment, but personality was desperately lacking. The model, once a massive
seller, steadily lost ground over the following years, with Ford facelifting it
twice in order to stem its steady decline.
VOLKSWAGEN Golf Mk 4 1997
Coming after the unloved Mk 3, 1997’s Mk 4 Golf had a lot of damage to repair.
It needed to freshen up an image that had become bloated and stodgy; it needed
to look younger and more modern, and it needed to elevate the VW brand above
that of its mainstream competitors by offering a classy, premium feel.
It did this with remarkable success, and over a decade later it is still regarded
—along with the Mk 1—as perhaps the most accomplished of all Golf
executions. VW resisted the temptation to make the Golf bigger and fatter,
instead choosing to invest in an interior that stunned the industry with its
genuine premium quality and feel and that left competitors struggling to catch
up.
Externally, the Mk 4 referenced the strongest points of the Mk 1—its deep
glass areas; its clean, sheer sides; and its simple clarity—to provide much-
needed freshness, even though an echo of the Mk 3’s roundness remained in the
front fender area and the dumbbell arrangement of the narrow grille flanked by
almond-shaped headlights.
Still, however, the key broad C-pillar remained, flowing smoothly down into
the rear fender without an intervening shoulder line; this, as with all Golfs, puts
the visual emphasis on the pillar structure and, cleverly, suggests integrity and
lightness at the same time.
OPEL-VAUXHALL Astra G 1998 Appearing a crucial 12 months later than its
direct competitor, the Mk 4 Golf, the 1998 Astra G marked the point where
Opel-Vauxhall ceded the initiative to VW. The new design was an unremarkable
corporate committee affair, with lots of detailing but little overall impact. The
lack of visual carryover from the previous model was a weakness in terms of
brand equity, further weakening Opel’s perceived presence in the segment.
FORD Focus I 1998 The 1998 Focus showed Ford at its radical best, bouncing
back from the dark Escort years with a creative and imaginatively styled
replacement that won praise not only for its dramatically different looks but also
for its roomy accommodation and good driving characteristics. The peak of
Ford’s New Edge design phase, the Focus cleverly disguised its high build with
its amalgam of curved surfaces, angled cuts, and sharp points. Its interior,
echoing the same radical theme, was less well received, and the sedan and
station wagon versions were more conservative.
FIAT Bravo/Brava 1995 This duo took over from the Tipo in 1995, the first
time an automaker had introduced different names and substantial body
differences for the three-and five-door versions of the same basic car. Both were
smooth and rounded in style and owed little to the Tipo—the Bravo being the
sportier three-door design while the five-door Brava had a distinctive
arrangement with three individual lozenge-shaped tail lights on each side.
Ultimately, however, Fiat’s originality in design was undermined by poor quality
and reliability, and the range never fulfilled its potential.
The Golf had been at the top of its game for six years by the time the Mk 5
appeared, slightly delayed, in dealers’ showrooms at the end of 2003. In terms of
external style, it once again fine-tuned details of the generic Golf look to project
a greater sense of substance and status. Bigger headlight units brought a stronger
identity to the front, with the narrower grille moving to a less horizontal graphic
—especially on the GTI, where a chromed or blacked-out frame linked it
vertically to the lower air intake.
This was the first Golf where the bonnet was dished between the front
fenders, adding to its visual presence. The body sides, too, showed a weightier
look, with a higher waistline and the beginnings of a shoulder line to break the
continuity between the now more upright C-pillar and the rear fender for the first
time. Nevertheless, this could not be anything but a Golf.
Notable, too was the greater depth of body side above the wheel arches, again
strengthening the impression of quality and gravitas. Here, Volkswagen could
clearly be seen to be capitalising on the premium status earned for the Golf
nameplate by the Mk 4. This was reflected in VW’s initial strategy to charge
premium prices for the model, something resisted by consumers until the
company upped the equipment content to a suitable level.
OPEL-VAUXHALL Astra H 2003 A much less timid design than its
predecessor, the 2003 Astra merged a more sharp-edged form language with a
bold grille and headlight and glasshouse graphics to produce a crisply
contemporary shape that sold well and stood out among its competitors. The
GTC coupé, with its steeply raked rear window line, became emblematic of a
revival in Opel design values.
FORD Focus 2 2004 A more conventional car that had been given a handful of
design cues to make it look like the original Focus, the second-generation model
marked a retreat by Ford from the radical stance of the original. Only the shape
of the headlights and the angled rear lights set high up into the C-pillars
identified it as a Focus, and the cautious executive-style dashboard signalled the
abandonment of innovation in the interior, too. A facelift in late 2007
strengthened the frontal appearance with a more prominent grille, successfully
bringing the Focus identity up to date despite the fact that the design links to the
original are tenuous.
FIAT Stilo 2001 Often referred to as the forgotten Fiat, the Stilo was developed
in record time with the aid of outside contractors tasked with dramatically
improving the brand’s quality and reliability. The calm, well-measured design
again had a different rear-end look for three-and five-door versions, and interior
finish was a quantum step up from earlier Fiat offerings. Perversely, this led
commentators to complain that character was in short supply, and this well-
conceived model never recovered from its poor start amid the market hiatus
following the events of September 11.
OPEL-VAUXHALL New Astra 2009 All change again in 2009 as the Astra
takes on the curvier, more organic form of the larger (and well received)
Insignia. Strong design cues are the arched cantrail, the strong shoulder running
forwards from the rear lights, and the kick-up from the sill in front of the rear
wheel aperture. It’s an attractive design, but lost in the mix is any sense of
continuity with the previous generations.
FORD Focus 3, 2010 A strong return to form for Ford for the third-generation
Focus under the design direction of Martin Smith. Gone is the cautious look of
the 2004 edition, to be replaced by a confident design building on the edgy
themes of the smaller Fiesta but with a greater sense of substance to suit the
buyer profile of a family hatchback.
Like the Fiesta, the 2010 Focus has a beltline that rises sharply from the low
Like the Fiesta, the 2010 Focus has a beltline that rises sharply from the low
front to the raised rear, communicating dynamism; the dynamic impression is
heightened by a glasshouse that tapers towards the rear, and by the arrowhead
rear lights that mark a complete break from the C-pillar mounted lights that were
such a hallmark of the first two generations.
This less clinical, more sculptural approach also works well as a sedan and a
sporty station wagon, versions that in previous Focus generations have been
awkward in their proportions.
A further mark of confidence is the simple grille composed of a single bar
and a centrally-mounted Ford oval emblem, breaking into the front edge of the
hood for added prominence.
What is your favourite car? Ferrari 250 GTO, the definition of a great Ferrari
—race-bred, road-driven, limited production. Probably the most beautiful car
ever.
What is your favourite design icon? The Transamerica Pyramid. The
simplicity helps shield it from ageing, and I think it’s iconic because it was a
new take on a classic shape.
Which designer do you admire most? Without sounding cliché, I admire Chris
Bangle most because he affected almost all automotive studios while directing
and working at only one.
What type of car or product do you most want to design? I’d most like to
help on the design of a halo car—a concept car that embodies the future of a
brand. I think designing a car such as this is always a great opportunity to move
design on to something more interesting.
Which will have the biggest influence on car design in the future: fashion,
environment, or cost? I think it will vary with each car; with some types of
cars, fashion is more important, with others cost. It’s usually a combination of all
three with an emphasis on one. I don’t think one will ever clearly override the
rest.
Name: Frank Wu
Nationality: American
Age:
Age:
21
College/university: College for Creative Studies, Detroit
Course: Automotive Design
What is your favourite car? Spyker C8
What is your favourite design icon? Coca-Cola bottle Which designer do you
admire most? Frank Stephenson What type of car or product do you most
want to design? Luxury sports car Which will have the biggest influence on
car design in the future: fashion, environment, or cost? All have a great
effect on car design, but environment will definitely be the greatest influence
towards future car design.
CHAPTER 13
tutorials
Tutorial: Perspectives
When drawing, a basic understanding of the rules of perspective is essential if
you are to achieve a realistic effect. Only once you have learned these rules can
you begin to distort or exaggerate them in order to accentuate elements of your
design. There are three basic forms of perspective (one, two, and three point).
There are also three main elements present in each of these (the vanishing point,
convergence lines, and horizon line). This tutorial shows the basics behind one-
and two-point perspective only; three-point perspective is not required in
automotive sketching.
automotive sketching.
Horizon line
This line, as its name suggests, describes the horizon, which is always
considered to be at eye level. For instance, an object sited above the horizon line
is above the viewer’s eye level and will therefore show its underside.
Vanishing points
Sited on the horizon line, these are the points where all convergence lines meet.
Although always on the horizon, their position depends on the viewer’s angle.
Convergence lines
All parallel lines in a scene will always appear to converge to a single point (the
vanishing point). The exception to this rule is that lines viewed in parallel or
perpendicular to the viewer will not converge. For instance, the lines running
lengthways through the vehicle in picture A. In one-and two-point perspective,
you can also consider all vertical lines as nonconverging lines.
One-point perspective
One-point perspective is evident when the object being viewed lies parallel or
perpendicular to the viewer. This means that only lines travelling toward or
away from the viewer appear to converge to a single vanishing point on the
horizon. Picture one shows how this makes for a very simple version of
perspective, which is especially useful for sketching quick side views of a
vehicle.
Courtesy Car Design News
Ellipses
Getting correct ellipses when drawing a car is probably the hardest part of
perspective. If you look at a circle straight on at an angle of 90 degrees, what
you see is indeed a circle. But once you start to reduce the angle you view the
circle from, it starts to appear to be an ellipse. An ellipse consists of a major axis
and a minor axis. In picture C, you can see where these are situated on an ellipse.
The major axis divides the ellipse into two equal halves along the longest
dimension, whilst the minor axis divides the ellipse into two equal halves along
its shortest dimension. A good rule of thumb is that you should always align the
minor axis with the axle of your vehicle. The major axis, and therefore the
longest dimension of the ellipses, should therefore run perpendicular to your axle
line. Finally, how do you ensure that the angle of your ellipse is correct?
Two-point perspective
When the object being viewed lies at an angle to the viewer, as in picture B, all
the horizontal lines appear to converge. This, therefore, introduces a second
vanishing point on the horizon. Where the vanishing points fall on the horizon
line depends on the angle of the object to the viewer. Looking at picture two,
you can see that if the vehicle were turned so that more of the side was visible,
then the right vanishing point would move to the right and out of the image.
One-point perspective
When I begin a sketching programme, I almost always start by drawing only in
side views. The point of early sketch work is for the designer to find many ideas
in a short space of time. By sketching in side view (and usually reasonably
small), I can generate many pages of ideas very quickly. This is mostly down to
the fact that you need to think about perspective very little and can therefore
concentrate on thinking about ideas. Almost the only element of perspective
visible in these drawings is the way that you can see the far side wheels. This is
due to the fact that in one-point perspective the only convergence lines that
converge are those moving toward or away from the viewer.
01 You can see here that I have started by gently roughing in a ground line and two wheel positions. I have also
lined in a shoulder height for the vehicle. The important thing to remember here is to keep your line work fast
and light. This way you can change and move things around as the sketch progresses. A common mistake when
learning to sketch is starting a new drawing when you realise something is out of place. Don’t! Continue with
the drawing, using the mistake as a guide to sorting out the problem.
02 Here I have lightly marked in the rough proportions of the vehicle, using a centre line and the window
opening. When putting in the centre line, try to avoid the temptation to shorten the overhangs too much by
bringing the front and the rear very close to the wheels. Look at a photograph of a car in side view and you will
see that the corner of the vehicle falls somewhere in the space you are leaving. If your vehicle has a lot of plan
shape at the front or the rear, then you will have to leave even more space.
03 I have now defined the top edge of the bodywork from the rear window, over the roof, and down to the front
bumper. Remember when drawing this line that it denotes the curvature over the roof and through the two
screens (when looking directly from in front or behind the vehicle). For instance, you can see that the rear screen
has a little curvature, which flattens out into the roof (although not completely flat), and then as the corner
surface travels into the windscreen, the curvature increases. You can see that the closer the edge line is to the
centre line, the less curvature is implied for the surface between.
04 Once you are happy with the general shape and proportion, you can begin to firm up some of the details
(remembering, of course, that it is only a sketch). I have added some light reflection lines in the side window and
down the body side. I have also defined the front corner. Again the same rule applies here as when drawing the
roof. The further the corner is from the centre line of the front end, the more curvature you are giving the front
bumper in plan view (viewing from above).
05 This is the final stage before applying colour. Here you can see I have firmed up all the details I am happy
with and added some detail to the wheels. It is always worth putting a little bit of effort into getting the spacing
reasonably correct on the wheel details since it will lift the look of your sketch a lot. Also important to note is
that the sketch is still very loose and fast in its line work. This will only come through perseverance and practice.
06 When you are happy with the general design and proportions, you can begin to add colour. Here I have simply
shaded the windows and wheels using a dark grey marker five or six. Note that this does not have to be super
accurate. I have then further darkened the lower area of the windows and the front wheels, by letting the
marker dry and going over the area again. The reason I have only darkened the front wheels further, and not the
rears, is to help give the drawing a sense of movement. If you give all areas of your sketch the same weight and
level of work, the final result can look very flat on the page.
07 This is the stage where you will have to force yourself to not become precious about your sketch. Hopefully,
you will now have a nice drawing on the paper, and to attack it in a loose and fast manner with a marker pen is
not easy. These lines represent the scenery reflecting in the body side. You can see that I have continued the
reflection in the window onto the bodywork and darkened down just beneath the shoulder. The area I have
lightly marked halfway up the body side represents the horizon line, which is reflecting from behind the viewer.
The important thing here is to be very loose and to keep your choice of marker very light.
08 This is probably the simplest part of the drawing, yet the one where you really see your sketch coming to life.
Just choose a colour of pastel similar in colour to the previous marker work and apply it along the length of the
bodywork, centring just beneath the shoulder line. Do not worry about going over the edges of the drawing.
09 You are now in the final stage of the sketch and really just finishing off. Using an eraser and gently rubbing
out all the areas where pastel has fallen on upwards-facing surfaces, you can really bring out the 3D form of
your vehicle. This is the point you could stop. The drawing is now complete enough that anybody can look at it
and get a good idea of the 3D form you are trying to describe. For a little bit of extra sparkle to the drawing,
however, you will probably want to add the smallest hint of highlights.
10 By using an airbrush (this is easiest to do in Photoshop), you can brush a very quick faint line down through
the bodywork. Then, on all the upward-facing surfaces it falls on, you can spray a light halo of white. Remember
to be subtle here since you don’t want to lose the definition of your surfaces—you only want to add that final bit
of sparkle.
Courtesy Car Design News
Though I have clearly used the new digital technologies, the technique is built
upon experiences I gained earlier in using vellum paper, marker and pastel. I
think you have to go through this stage of traditional techniques before you can
successfully optimize your digital workflow and not end up with generic-looking
impersonal artwork. In that same respect, I use all of my clay modeling
experience in making my Alias models. Again, being familiar with both
traditional workflows and the new digital methods is something you have to do
to be most effective in your design work.
Autodesk Maya
Originally developed for the movie and entertainment industries—recent
computer-animated films made with Maya software include Avatar, Ice Age,
Pan’s Labyrinth and Spider-Man 3—Maya is increasingly used for the animation
and simulation of car designs. By using advanced visual effects designs can be
rendered inside simulated environments for review or for use in marketing and
promotional media, such as putting a concept car into a ‘life like’ urban driving
environment, when (of course) the car has never been there, and in fact doesn’t
environment, when (of course) the car has never been there, and in fact doesn’t
even have an engine to power it.
Autodesk Showcase
Created for design managers who need to show design work to executive
management, Autodesk’s Showcase software allows designers to take their 3D
CAD data and transform it into visually realistic images for management review.
Car companies are making more and more decisions digitally where in the past
such major decisions would be dependent on viewing full size clay models. On a
powerwall a design can be shown in extremely high definition. It also allows for
different background environments to be generated; to see how paint may affect
the look of a vehicle under different lighting conditions; to see how reflections
may affect a vehicle’s lines and even how changing a vehicle’s colour may
affect the perception of its form. All these changes can be made quickly so that
management can review them quickly, too, enhancing the decision-making
process.
Bunkspeed Drive
Bunkspeed Drive is used for automotive and transportation design visualisation,
whether for design review or for marketing communication. Designs can be
manipulated for realistic presentation in create driving animations with near
photographic ‘realism’, so that reflections and other physical properties can be
better understood using a powerwall or other full screen presentation method.
Learn how to Make Your Designs Real
This FREE online manual from Majenta Academy will show you
how to transform your 2D sketches into a 3D model ready for
prototyping.
The goal of any creative designer is to produce innovative shapes and forms. In
the design world, these forms must be modelled to a high standard. Our online
manual will show you how to transform your sketches using Autodesk AliasTM,
the world’s leading 3D digital modelling tool, into a 3D model. Following Class-
A principles, we show you how to obtain volumes, solve the final design and
generate high quality and innovative sculptural models.
Using the design of Marten Wallgren, winner of the Pilkington Award for Best
Design Interpretation and a 2010 graduate of the Royal College of Art in
London, we take you through the step-by-step process of modelling, from
sketches to the final model. Visit the Majenta Academy website (link below) to
register and download the initial sketches, package as well as all the data needed
for the intermediate stages.
Majenta Academy training materials are created by professional 3D modellers.
Our manuals and courses will teach you the ins and outs of the professional
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To download the free manual and learn more about Majenta Academy’s
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www.majentacademy.com/Onlinemanuals
CHAPTER 14
DESIGN AND THE GREAT
designers
Harley Earl
The car’s success led GM to create an Art and Color Division—later renamed
the Styling Division—with Earl as its first director. During his three-decade
career at GM, Earl made the company a world leader in car design and styling
while defining the car design process and its use of the 2D sketch, modelling
clay, the full-size clay model, and the concept car. It is ironic, considering that
he was the son of coachbuilder, that Earl’s revolutionary work would ultimately
signal the beginning of the end for coachbuilding as automakers began to take
more and more creative responsibility in house.
Battista Pininfarina (Born Farina, 1893–1966)
Founder of Carrozzeria Pininfarina, Battista “Pinin” Farina (inset) will be
forever linked with postwar European sports car design, especially for Ferrari.
His work streamlining cars for Alfa Romeo (6C 2300 B Berlinetta
Aerodinamica, 1935) and Lancia (Aprilla, 1937) set Pininfarina on a path to
evolve aerodynamic simplicity, producing designs that were devoid of clutter
and free flowing in form. The lack of chrome and any other elaborate decorative
elements in his designs gave his cars clarity and purity. His 1947 Cisitalia 202
sports Berlinetta design, is for many, Battista’s crowning glory.
By the 1950s Pininfarina was penning what would become the most classic of
Ferrari’s designs, combining aerodynamic form with simple aesthetics. Over the
course of the 1950s and 1960s, designs including the 250 GT Spyder (1957), 250
GT Berlinetta (1961), 250 GT (1963), and the Dino 206 GT would establish
Pininfarina as Ferrari’s premier designer and forever link the names of the two
companies.
250 GT
Loewy’s car design career began in 1934 working for the Hupp Motor
Company, designing the Hupmobile. Loewy introduced streamlining by
integrating the headlights and spare wheel housing in order to give the vehicle a
sleek and attractive form, eliminating any protruding elements. Though
interrupted by World War II, Loewy’s automotive design continued with
Studebaker. In 1947, Studebaker launched the Champion, which featured a far
more exotic and European (Italian) look compared to most other American cars.
The Champion had sculpted, clean lines; flush fenders and doors; and a tapering
rear end. Overall, it was a very restrained look, with a notable lack of chrome
used on the exterior. This was to be Loewy’s legacy: the creation of smooth,
simplified, sculptural body forms, with few seams and a minimum of fuss.
Champion
Alec Issigonis
Streamlining
Raymond Loewy wasn’t the first to explore ideas in streamlining or
streamforming—far from it. As early as 1913, Giuseppe Merosi at Castagna
created a streamlined, teardrop-shaped body on an Alfa chassis.
Streamlining started with a series of one-off vehicles, but it wasn’t until the
1930s that the streamlining movement could be considered to have truly
begun. In the United States, consumers were fascinated by it, perceiving it
as being at the forefront of modernity, human progress, and speed, despite
the fact that in car design aerodynamics were essentially symbolic. During
this time, designers, including Norman Bel Geddes, William Bushnell Stout
and Paul Jaray, penned cars including the Motor Car Number 1 (1928),
Stout Scarab (1935), and Tatra 77 (1934), but it was Carl Breer’s Chrysler
Airflow (1934) that is, arguably, the most attractive. By World War II the
movement was pretty much over, but the legacy of streamlining remains in
the form of the unified body shell with a minimum of protuberances—a
characteristic that has become the norm on all modern cars.
Tatra 77
Nuccio Bertone (1914–1997)
One of history’s greatest designers was in fact not a car designer but an
extremely clever businessman. Nuccio Bertone was a design genius not because
of the cars he designed, but for the way in which he managed his father’s
coachbuilding business when he took over the running of Carrozzeria Bertone in
1952. Realising that the future of Bertone did not lie in coachbuilding for
individual clients or in small production runs, he committed himself to the
styling of cars for automotive customers. Some of the most memorable car
designs of the second half of the twentieth century originated at Bertone, cars
like the BAT (Berlina Aerodinamica Technica) cars of 1953, 1954, and 1955;
Lamborghini Miura, Espada, and Countach; as well as other icons of design,
the Lancia Stratos and Fiat Dino coupé. But, along with the BAT cars, it is the
Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint that is most closely associated with Nuccio Bertone.
The car went on to become the Italian GT car—it was fabulous and affordable—
and although Alfa had only expected to build a few hundred cars, the design was
so successful Bertone went on to build almost 40,000 of their bodies for Alfa.
The Giulietta Sprint marked the transformation of Carrozzeria Bertone from a
craft-scale producer to an industrial manufacturer of vehicles.
Nuccio Bertone
1953
Lamborghini Miura
Sting Ray
It was under Mitchell that cars evolved to a cleaner and more minimal styling.
Perhaps the car that best defines his approach and that was his greatest
achievement is the Corvette Sting Ray. Rather than endow the car with chrome
and jewellery to add interest, Mitchell took the inspirational form of the mako
shark. The result was a clean, low, flat, and streamlined appearance that quite
literally resembled the creature it was inspired by. It is also undoubtedly one of
literally resembled the creature it was inspired by. It is also undoubtedly one of
the finest, most exciting, and best-loved car designs of all time. At a time when
American cars had become ostentatious and garish, Bill Mitchell ensured US car
design was beautiful again. He proved that automotive sculpture, when executed
exactly, can provide all of the drama and excitement a vehicle needs.
Coachbuilding in France
It is perhaps unsurprising that the link between automobiles and fashion
first occurred in Paris. Between the world wars, the work of the French
carrossiers led the world in automotive high fashion. Coachbuilders
including Saoutchik, Facel, Figoni & Falaschi, and Chapron created elegant
bodies for Bugatti, Cadillac, Daimler, Mercedes-Benz, and Rolls-Royce.
The cars were extravagant, making use of materials that would ultimately
come to define automotive luxury: chrome, leather, and highly exotic
woods. But by the end of World War II, the growing influence of mass car
ownership and changing practices in construction meant that the French
coachbuilding industry was all but dead. The automakers turned to the
Italians as they adapted their methods to meet the demands of volume
production.
Mercedes-Benz
Bruno Sacco (born 1933)
After unsuccessful attempts to join the Italian carrozzerie, Bruno Sacco joined
Daimler-Benz as a stylist in 1958. By 1975 he was head of the Daimler-Benz
styling centre and from then on influenced every Mercedes product until his
retirement in 1999. Today he is considered one of the car industry’s greatest
designers.
Bruno Sacco
Lancia Stratos
Giorgetto Giugiaro
Lotus Esprit
BMW M1
Ford Mustang
Mays’ designs looked back to the heritage of each brand, selecting the
elements that resonated emotionally with car buyers and creating contemporary
designs that exploited those emotions. His later work for Ford—specifically his
Thunderbird, the Forty-Nine concept car and, most significantly, the Mustang
(2005)—again successfully looked to the past to influence forward-looking
(2005)—again successfully looked to the past to influence forward-looking
designs. The results are still controversial. Many question how successful these
vehicles remain over the passage of time. Regardless of one’s viewpoint, there is
no doubt that the way in which Mays approached his work has had a lasting
effect on contemporary car design.
Chris Bangle (born 1956)
American designer Chris Bangle’s career in car design has seen him become one
of the most celebrated—and also reviled—designers in recent automotive
history. After starting his career at Opel, he moved on to Fiat where he served as
chief designer for the Fiat Coupé. Most famously known for leading BMW
Group design through one of its most controversial periods, Bangle introduced
flame surfacing to the Bavarian manufacturer, and the entire BMW lineup
currently bears signatures of his work. Bangle’s most controversial design was
the E65 7 Series, introduced in 2001. A dramatic contrast to its more
conservatively styled predecessor, it was named one of the 50 worst cars of all
time by Time magazine. And yet it was also the best-selling 7 Series in BMW
history. The design language that Bangle created for BMW was so
individualistic that some of his peers suggested he had thrown the baby out with
the bath water, in design terms. In an interview with Business Week magazine,
Bangle was quoted as saying, “We aren’t copying anyone else’s design
language, not even our own, and I think that makes some people
uncomfortable.” This type of deconstruction in automotive design had never
been attempted on such a scale before.
Chris Bangle (born 1956)
Fiat Coupé
E65 7 Series
Regardless of the relative merits of his designs, Bangle’s work at BMW made
him the most talked-about car designer in modern history, and there is absolutely
no doubt that his work had a fundamental influence on automotive design.
Ford’s design director Martin Smith called Bangle’s flame surfacing style
“surface entertainment,” and the American’s lasting influence can be seen in the
fact that surface entertainment can now be seen across the vehicle ranges of a
number of automakers.
CHAPTER 15
CONCEPT CARS THAT
TRANSFORMED car design
Many major advances in car design can be traced back to visionary concept
models penned by imaginative designers. Few of these forward-looking
show cars were fully understood when first unveiled; some were even
greeted with shock or puzzlement, but all would go on to have a profound
influence on the cars we buy and drive.
Briggs/Ford V-8, 1933
When Ford took this car along to a 1934 Chicago exhibition entitled “A Century
of Progress,” it was instigating a research method entirely new to the automotive
industry. Engineers, company founders, entrepreneurs and crackpots had long
been happy to demonstrate their spluttering prototypes at any public forum
where an ogling crowd might be drawn. This time, though, Ford was carefully
showcasing a design it might, or might not, proceed with; the decision would
depend on the reaction from bystanders. This makes the Briggs the first concept
car in the form we know it today—a nonfunctioning but, in all other ways,
realistic representation of a car for the near (or distant) future.
Its origins, however, were from outside Ford. It was the work of the chief
production design engineer of its Detroit supplier Briggs Body Company, John
Tjaarda. Briggs had two important clients, Chrysler and Ford, and in 1932 Ford
had complained it was being treated as a second-class customer at a time when
Briggs was deep in collaboration with Chrysler on the upcoming Chrysler
Airflow. Tjaarda’s task was to claw back Ford’s goodwill with presentations that
showed how its own products could evolve. Since the late 1920s, he had studied
a rear/mid-engined, aerodynamically proficient sedan called the Sterkenburg
(after his town of birth, in Holland), and as Edsel Ford declared himself
impressed by them, Tjaarda and Briggs turned these designs into running
prototypes, using custom-made aluminium Ford V-8 engines.
The car shown in Chicago was an all-metal mockup intended to gauge
reaction to its radical styling. Ford employed pollsters to mingle with showgoers
and, on their clipboards, to record audience response to this startling exhibit. The
feedback reflected the attitude of the wider American public to aerodynamic cars
like the Chrysler Airflow: They were not keen on a low-set sloping nose without
a radiator grille. And, in this case, they definitely didn’t like the idea of an engine
positioned behind the rear seats.
However, the character line of Tjaarda’s design survived to form the basis of
the 1936 Lincoln Zephyr, with the faired-in headlamps and much of the
streamlined side profile remaining intact. It’s a genesis that has become routine
throughout the car design world.
Rover Jet 1, 1950
The crowds thronging the Festival of Britain exhibition on London’s South Bank
in 1951 probably sensed that, despite the bleak aftermath of World War II,
Britain’s motor industry was on top of its game. For here, on display, was a car
demonstrating Britain had the technology and ingenuity to out-do both America
and Europe.
It was Rover’s Jet 1, a name echoed by its JET 1 number plate—the world’s
first gas turbine car. It’s an interesting early example of adapting the lightly
modified silhouette of a familiar production car as a showcase for
groundbreaking alternative power technology; the open two-seater body used
panels recognisable from the Rover 75 sedan. But as a jet-propelled car, it really
did work, and it offered seamless power delivery.
Harold Hastings, of The Motor magazine, was among the few outsiders to
drive it. “With a peculiar and rather eerie high-pitched whistle just behind my
left ear, I cautiously pressed the accelerator,” he wrote in 1955. “I was just about
to ask what was wrong when I realised that, almost imperceptibly, we had begun
to move.”
In 1952, the car established a new record at 151.96 miles per hour for the
In 1952, the car established a new record at 151.96 miles per hour for the
flying kilometre; although other companies would build turbine cars too, none
would pursue the technology as doggedly as Rover, with its experimental
programme stretching into the mid-1960s.
For the tight-knit Jet 1 project team, led by Spencer King and Frank Bell,
there were numerous engineering obstacles: The engine turned at 26,000 rpm,
five times higher than most normal car engines in the early 1950s; it was air-
cooled; and turbines have no internal engine braking. These were overcome, but
two problems proved insurmountable: greedy fuel consumption (typically 5
miles per gallon) and the huge costs of making such an engine. These inherent
drawbacks have never been solved by carmakers, and there’s no imperative so to
do.
Yet Jet 1 was such a useful publicity tool for Rover that its bodywork was
updated to bring it into line with the evolving detail styling of the well-liked P4
sedan range—a real example of making a concept car earn its keep. Jet 1 is,
today, a prized exhibit in London’s Science Museum.
General Motors LeSabre, 1951
The 1951 LeSabre, the first significant postwar concept car from General
Motors, would exert a huge influence on mainstream products from the company
for the remainder of the decade.
But the Corvair proved alluring to those in awe of race car technology, a
discipline that had benefited from the migration of the engine to a position
behind the driver. Chevrolet’s own Corvair Monza GT was a 1962 show car
intended to capitalise on this, packaging the Corvair’s rear-biased drivetrain in a
two-seater GT notable for a cockpit accessed through a single canopy that
hinged forwards, taking the windscreen with it.
This obviously fired the imagination of management at Italy’s Bertone, as the
signature feature of the 1963 Testudo was the very same. The windscreen, glass
roof, and doors all hinged forward as a giant, one-piece canopy to admit driver
and passenger. The lack of windscreen pillars was matched by an extremely
slender instrument panel set into the dashboard, where the main feature was a
prominent grab handle for the passenger.
Impressively, the Testudo was conceived and constructed in a mere two
months, from January to March 1963, at which point it was exhibited at the
months, from January to March 1963, at which point it was exhibited at the
Geneva Motor Show. There, it caused a wave of excitement. Its smooth and
aerodynamic form was the work of a promising young designer named Giorgio
Giugiaro, an as-yet unknown who was, nonetheless, the force behind Bertone’s
influential output since the departure of Franco Scaglione.
The Testudo’s very low frontal area, eliminating the radiator grille and with
headlights that swivelled up from their lie-flat position (later copied for
Porsche’s 928) on the bonnet when switched on, was made possible because of
the rear engine; cooling air was drawn in through intakes just aft of the canopy.
On a hot day, the Testudo would no doubt have been unbearable, with the sun
blazing down through the glass top. But in spring 1963, conditions were almost
perfect for driving the car, which Nuccio Bertone himself did from his Turin
headquarters to the Geneva show hall—quite an achievement for a hastily
completed concept car.
Pininfarina/BMC 1800 Berlina Aerodinamica, 1967
The consensus about this shining example of intelligent, scientific, and
exuberant car design is that it was, by quite some distance, a vehicle ahead of its
time. The Berlina Aerodinamica came about at the tail end of a long and, in
general, productive relationship between the British Motor Corporation and
Italian design consultant Pininfarina; the fact that its all-round excellence was
never harnessed by BMC is, in retrospect, a tragedy, for BMC’s usual 1800 was
an ugly car. Pininfarina had tried its best to infuse some style into Alec
Issigonis’ undeniably spacious package envelope, but his stubborn insistence on
proportion meant there was little to redeem it.
Bracq was very much the man of the design moment, glowing in the
adulation heaped upon him for his work on designing the exterior of the French
TGV high-speed train. Now, wearing his new BMW hat, he set about creating a
unique supercar that was at once wedge-shaped, like its contemporaries, but also
loaded with features to show that BMW cared about minimising the impact of
collisions through passive safety. The core of this philosophy was the
deformable front and rear ends of the Turbo—foam-filled plastic sections
mounted on telescopic steel beams. The cockpit was, in effect, one giant roll
cage, with a steering column jointed in three places so it would collapse if
struck. BMW’s claim that the car, because of its low-to-the-ground stance,
offered a safety advantage was a somewhat specious boon, but the inclusion of
offered a safety advantage was a somewhat specious boon, but the inclusion of
anti-lock brakes and a radar-activated proximity sensor were wise and proper
active safety benefits.
While other potential supercars tapered to aggressively infinitesimal tips, the
Turbo made a visual virtue of its soft and rounded ends with a striking paint job:
bright, safety-style orange graduating to a deep claret red. The gullwing doors,
meanwhile, provided some theatre to push back the worthiness.
Power came from a turbocharged, 200–brake horsepower 1,990cc BMW
straight-four, an engine that found a production life in the 1973 2002 Turbo. The
Turbo was constructed by Italian design studio Michelotti and, although a
second, non-running car was commissioned for display purposes there was never
any question of the Turbo going on sale. Or so it seemed—because plenty of the
car’s design features would indeed find a production car home when BMW
marketed its mid-engined M1 in 1978.
Toyota MP-1, 1975
Chrysler’s minivan range of 1983, initially sold as a Plymouth Voyager or a
Dodge Caravan, is widely—and rightly—considered to be the first multipurpose
vehicle (MPV) as we know it today. By that, it’s generally expected to be a tall,
roomy car, the interior of which can be altered in several different ways for
various passenger/cargo configurations. Chrysler defined that in the minivan,
even managing to incorporate sliding side doors without it seeming like a former
delivery van. Yet a full seven years earlier, Toyota was right on the money, able
to put a big tick against everything on the tentative MPV checklist with its MP-
1. It offered a lofty passenger compartment with excellent all-round visibility; a
compact, steeply sloped bonnet for a quasi-one-box profile; a modular interior;
sliding rear aside doors; and a huge tailgate. With the ageing demographic of the
population in mind, wheelchair access was a key feature, with a lifting platform
built in to the step of one of the rear passenger doors.
It was such a thoroughly logical and sensible car that it seemed production-
ready. The MP-1, though, was a concept, exhibited at the 1975 Tokyo Motor
Show, and that’s all it would remain. Eight years later, Toyota would be in early
on the MPV party with its Model F Space Cruiser. But that was not in the
Chrysler league because it was derived from the Liteace van, and its below-par
driving dynamics immediately betrayed that fact.
driving dynamics immediately betrayed that fact.
Had Toyota been brave enough to push its MP-1 down the production line,
things would have been very different; being based on the floorpan and running
gear of the Crown saloon, it would certainly have been acceptably car-like to
own and drive. The MP-1 proved what an on-the-ball organisation Toyota had
become and set a template that the entire automotive industry would come to be
grateful for. The only way to get your hands on an MP-1—literally—was to buy
it in miniature, courtesy of Japan’s Tomica toy brand.
Lancia Megagamma, 1978
Giugiaro the GT wizard; Giugiaro the family car mastermind; and now, Giugiaro
the compactness and interior space visionary. The Megagamma saw the young
Italian well into his third phase of car design. Here was the middle of three
concepts in which Giorgetto Giugiaro redefined the importance of cabin
spaciousness and anthropomorphic proportions. At the same time, his
consultancy Italdesign would take a side-swipe at one of the auto industry’s most
long-held—and baseless—tenets: that sheer length equates to prestige.
The Megagamma, as its name suggests, took the Lancia Gamma chassis as its
basis, complete with a compact, flat-four, 2.5-litre engine and the front-wheel
drive that set it apart from many mainstream executive cars. Giugiaro then
squeezed the proportions of the donor car to eradicate its long front and rear
overhangs (length dropped from 458 to 431 centimetres) and greatly increase its
height, which turned the doors from long to tall (height grew from 141 to 162
centimetres). This formed a cabin where drivers and passenger sat upright, with
a commanding view out through deep glass.
It was, in essence, the abrupt antithesis to the trend, begun in Detroit in the
1950s and then embraced universally, for increasingly low-slung cars where the
occupants sat close to the ground and often peered out through fairly narrow
windows and screens. Customers seemed prepared to trade the relative
windows and screens. Customers seemed prepared to trade the relative
discomfort this afforded in headroom and access for a sporty image.
The Megagamma, revealed at the 1978 Turin show, confounded this norm
espoused by top-selling cars like, for instance, the Ford Cortina/Taunus.
Giugiaro began his research in 1976 with an Alfa Romeo–based study for a
compact, passenger-friendly New York taxi, and the Megagamma was followed
in 1982 by the Capsula, with its engine and luggage concealed beneath a high-set
floor.
Lancia, hidebound by its traditional luxury car values, declined to
manufacture the five-door Megagamma. But Giugiaro’s tall theme was
enthusiastically espoused by Fiat for its 1983 Uno supermini and by Nissan for
its Micra small car and Prairie minivan.
Fiat VSS, 1981
Renzo Piano is a world-renowned architect with a deep knowledge of materials
and processes. In 1978, Fiat asked him, along with leading structural engineer
Peter Rice, to take a long hard look at how it designed and built its cars and to
summarise his findings in a way that would help it plan the cars of the 1990s. It
was a $3.25-million project, and the I.DE.A Institute was founded in Turin to
undertake it.
The team came to the eventual conclusion that what could transform both the
engineering and the manufacturing processes would be a car manufactured in a
series of subsystems. It was accepted that welded steel was still unbeatable for
construction frames, with its excellent ability to absorb energy in an accident,
although constructing it in a modular way as a space frame could slash weight by
a fifth and boost crashworthiness. But instead of relying on a structural steel
outer skin, various types of separate, non load-bearing plastic panels could be
attached. This, said Piano, could by clever design also cut noise and vibration
but, most important, allow a range of models to be built all using the same
frame.
On the one hand, it was an ancient concept—that of a separate chassis
supporting different body styles—but seen another way it was the birth of the
platform-sharing configuration that would come to dominate mainstream car
industry strategy. The findings were made real in the fully functioning Fiat VSS,
standing for Vettura Sperimentale a Sottosistemi (or experimental subsystems
standing for Vettura Sperimentale a Sottosistemi (or experimental subsystems
car). It incorporated Fiat Ritmo/Strada parts in a structure that—angular looks
aside—amply demonstrated Piano’s vision.
There is a little of the VSS’s style obvious in the Fiat Tipo of 1988, whose
Piano-inspired platform was indeed used for a raft of other models, including the
Lancia Dedra and Alfa Romeo 145. However, Piano’s pure demonstration of
technical flexibility was not fully embraced, principally because the retooling
costs required for the factories were prohibitive but also partly because Fiat’s
sales departments protested against a visually detectable modularity. Piano
himself lamented the car’s appearance, saying it looked like a standard car “so
people would not be frightened. It is not the way it should have been done. If
you follow the process, you end up with a car that is drastically different.” But
the VSS would still prove a fundamentally influential design.
Renault Scénic, 1991
By the early 1990s the corporate glibness surrounding concept cars had become
tedious. So when Renault exhorted visitors to accept an “invitation to travel” in
“a car for life and living” at the 1991 Frankfurt motor show, it did seem rather
like the usual moonshine.
Newson was delighted to take up the task and immediately set to work,
determined to figure out better ways of approaching design than those he had
been studying in car magazines and books. Yet when the fruits of his labours
were unveiled in Tokyo, the automotive world caught its breath: finished in
bright orange and named after both the Pantone colour of that hue and the
upcoming new millennium, the 021C emerged as a tiny, naive and toy-like box,
devoid of external detail or ornamentation. The interior was simpler still: just
four orange and white seats, a flat orange dashboard and zero décor. Many
commentators dismissed it as an expensive joke, the kind of car caricature a
child would draw.
Behind the minimalist style, however, lay several technologies such as LED
lighting, fibre optics and a height-adjustable dashboard that would later emerge
on other production models. Yet the real significance of the 021C was the way it
divided the critics on sharp, sector-dependent lines. The product design
divided the critics on sharp, sector-dependent lines. The product design
community applauded it for its purity and harmony and the way that it presented
a fully integrated design conceived as a whole by a single individual: Newson is
said to have designed every detail, right down to the carpets and tyre treads. Car
critics, on the other hand, had difficulty grasping its significance, focusing on its
naiveté rather than innovative features such as the swivelling front seats and
pull-out trunk compartment. And though the 021C has not materially influenced
the cars we see on the roads today, it has had a lasting influence on how today’s
designers approach their work and seek to shape their designs as an integrated
whole.
Audi Steppenwolf, 2000
The art of the perfect crossover car is an inexact one, but in general it means that
the vehicle in question adheres to conventional road car length and width
parameters while adopting the stance, height, and image of an off-roader.
Perhaps surprisingly, such a cocktail was rarely seen throughout the 1980s and
1990s. But then in 2000, Audi’s Steppenwolf suddenly made the elements gel in
the most convincing way yet seen, putting it among the belles of that year’s Paris
Motor Show.
The enormous, gleaming wheels were enough to hint at the car’s off-road
capability—vast 19-inch items shod with chunky tyres and set off by a dark grey
protective perimeter finish to give the visual illusion of abnormal ground
clearance for a car of around Audi A3 size. For the Steppenwolf had plenty in
common with the A3 and even the Audi TT, being based on the same platform
as these and other VW group cars like the new Beetle and Golf. A 3.2-litre V-6
was the power unit, allied to Quattro all-wheel drive and a Haldex clutch to
equalise torque between front and rear axles.
The project was led by Romulus Rost, who aimed for a “four-wheeled
mountain bike”; he had also been intimately involved with perfecting the Audi
mountain bike”; he had also been intimately involved with perfecting the Audi
TT for market. The Steppenwolf was a masterly blend of compact coupé and
capable off-roader. Inside, a prominent transmission tunnel defined it as a strict
four-seater, resplendent with aluminium details and with rubber and leather trim
even running to a leather-covered floor.
The Steppenwolf’s adventurous off-road potential extended from spotlights in
its door mirrors to a prominent sump guard and air suspension to vary the ride
height by 60 millimetres to best cope with either motorways or mud baths. With
even such once-mundane brands as Kia adopting a look like the Steppenwolf’s,
not to mention the perception-changing impact of the Nissan Qashqai, Ford
Kuga, and BMW X6, it’s clear Audi was well ahead of the curve. Still, its own
entrant in this burgeoning sector, the Q5, proved a touch predictable alongside
the still attention-grabbing Steppenwolf.
CHAPTER 16
RIGHT IDEA, wrong time
Launching a 220-mile-per-hour supercar in the midst of a financial crisis or
introducing a revolutionary super-economy lightweight family car just as
incomes went up and fuel prices went down: Automotive history is
peppered with instances of brilliant ideas that backfired because they were
too far ahead of their time or circumstances conspired against them. Here
we chronicle a dozen car programmes that didn’t deserve to fail.
Chrysler Airflow, 1934
The Airflow appears to be a seminal example of motorised Art Deco design. In
fact, it was America’s first mainstream car with aerodynamics as its guiding
principle—adventurous, certainly, but a sales disaster.
He placed the Ford V-8 engine at the very back and moved the driving
position forward so the steering wheel was almost directly above the front
wheels. With no proper bonnet and wheels positioned at each corner, the
streamlined profile represented an extreme one-box shape.
The driver’s seat was fixed, but the four other seats in the spacious passenger
compartment were a paragon of versatility. The cushions on the rear bench seat
could be rearranged into a full-length bed; the front passenger seat swivelled
around and slid to face the rear, and a fold-down table was hinged on the left
side of the interior for meetings. There were only two doors, one for the driver
on the left and another to the rear compartment, usually at the back on the right.
No two Scarabs were absolutely identical, and with a then-astronomical $5,000
price tag just nine were sold.
Tucker 49 Torpedo, 1947
Preston Tucker had been an office boy at Cadillac, a car salesman, and a partner
in an Indianapolis racing car business before deciding to create a car that was
strong on safety features. Early ideas were for a streamlined, rear-engined coupé
with front and rear seat belts, a padded dashboard, and a windscreen that popped
out in a crash. When that proved unfeasible, in late 1946 his team rethought the
car as a four-door saloon, with a Franklin air-cooled (switched to water-cooled
for production) flat-six helicopter engine in the back. The seat belts were
dropped, as some felt they implied the car was unsafe, and so were swivelling
headlights, disc brakes, and a central driving position. But an all-round
independent suspension and a padded dashboard remained.
Showered with acclaim, the Avanti was destined for a short life luring buyers
into Studebaker showrooms because the company went bust in 1964. However,
two former Studebaker dealers bought the rights to the car and the Avanti II was
relaunched. They continued hand-building about 100 a year until 1982, and other
entrepreneurs kept this distinctive car alive way beyond that.
NSU Ro80, 1967
New models today rarely flare the imagination like the NSU Ro80. It was, in
1967, the most daringly modern car on the road. Designed by Dr. Felix Wankel,
the Ro80 had an amazing twin-rotor power unit that gave the car extraordinary
smoothness. Equally impressive was the car’s stunning, wedge-shaped styling
crafted by designer Claus Luthe.
For a large five-seater saloon, NSU Ro80 had unusual elegance. But there
was science to its form too: The car was supremely aerodynamic, its co-efficient
of drag, at 0.35, unparalleled for such a car. It still looked sleek and modern in
1987 next to such wind tunnel–shaped cars as the Audi 100.
Luthe did more than most to hone the modern German saloon with its visual
solidity and confidence, but he would shortly become notable in Germany for
entirely different reasons: During a violent row, Luthe fatally stabbed his drug-
addict adult son. His quick release from a 33-month jail term reflected the
sympathy Germans felt for the father in this tragedy. Sadly, NSU was brought to
its knees by warranty claims against fragile Ro80 engines. Luthe subsequently
worked as a designer for both Audi-NSU and BMW.
British Leyland Princess, 1975
This replacement for the old BMC 1800/2200 series bucked the trend once again
with its distinctive styling. The work of designer Harris Mann, it followed his
Allegro and TR7 in employing a wedge-shaped profile, elongated nose and
prominent wheel arches. It looked dynamic but flattered to deceive. The car’s
profile suggested a versatile hatchback; instead, it had a conventional boot. A
new suspension system was featured, employing Hydragas units for an absorbent
ride, while the interior, typical of cars from the BMC/BL stable, was vastly
roomy if, also as usual, unappealing.
“Project Amigo,” begun in 1971, sought to create “the first wide small car,”
keeping the roomy passenger compartment Americans liked but within a typical
European length and using a refined and compact Wankel rotary engine. It was
planned to exceed anticipated safety requirements; hence, the goldfish-bowl-like
glasshouse (37 per cent of body surface) for optimum visibility, reinforced
barrel-shaped flanks, and rollover bar incorporated into the roof.
The plan began to unravel in 1974, when General Motors, scheduled to
supply the power unit, abandoned its rotary engine programme. American
Motors was forced to install its own straight-six, a heavy, bulky, inefficient
motor, saddling the Pacer with terrible performance and fuel economy. Novel
touches like a driver’s door four inches longer than the passenger’s for easy
access to the rear seats, plus a hatchback, did help sales in 1976 to top 117,000,
but thereafter orders collapsed.
Ford Sierra, 1982
The Sierra caused a storm in 1982 with its curvaceous, wind-cheating shape;
large plastic bumpers; and ergonomic interior. Horrified traditionalists declared
it a “jelly mould.” Under the skin, though, the car was based wholesale on the
dated Ford Cortina it replaced. Although there was a new independent rear
suspension system, the driveline was recognisably Cortina. This caused just as
much controversy as the bold styling itself.
And yet the Sierra did innovate, as did the self-leveling suspension featured
on the 2.3-litre Ghia estate and the XR4x4 helped popularise all-wheel drive for
conventional road cars. As for sporty versions, the initial XR4i, despite its 150
brake horsepower and stiffer suspension, received a lukewarm reception, but the
turbocharged Cosworths made sensational competition (and getaway) cars. On
both, biplane rear aerofoils stood out.
With almost 3.5 million sold, the Sierra cannot be judged a failure. But it
might have done so much better with a less scientific style and more technical
might have done so much better with a less scientific style and more technical
substance. Many buyers felt they were being fooled and instead turned in their
droves to modern, front-drive cars like the Opel Ascona/Vauxhall Cavalier and
even the genuinely innovative Citroën BX.
Jaguar XJ220, 1991
When the XJ220 prototype was unveiled in 1988, it had Jaguar’s classic V-12
engine and four-wheel drive. When it finally went on sale in 1991, its number of
cylinders and driven wheels had halved. And the recession was in full force.
People who’d eagerly placed orders for the £403,000 car—then the fastest road
machine ever built—cancelled them in their droves. What should have been a
story of triumph and celebration for Jaguar became a financial and public
relations debacle as buyers said they would forego their deposits as long as they
didn’t have to pay the balance.
The V-12 of the show car gave way to a twin-turbo V-6, but still with as
astonishing 542 horsepower. The wonderful looks, however, were unadulterated,
and the civilised cabin offered an excellent driving position. In hindsight, the
wisdom of producing a car so vast and utterly impractical was questionable. But
with a top speed of at least 213 miles per hour, and possibly as much as 220
miles per hour if conditions allowed, it was every bit as fast as its name
suggested.
Rover 75, 1998
BMW tried hard to redefine Rover, the British marque it acquired in 1994. It
planned the Rover 75 with its typical rigour, creating an all-new front-drive
platform for it. There was little deliberation about what kind of car the new big
Rover would be: an executive saloon that dodged overt sportiness in favour of
comfort, refinement, discreet style and something almost entirely absent from
the sector—old-fashioned charm.
Rover stylist Richard Woolley, who had worked wonders turning the anodyne
Honda Accord into the Rover 600, was responsible for the 75. His elegant four-
door architecture, with its gentle curves and tasteful chrome highlights, hit the
spot. It would have been the toast of the 1998 British motor show, had not BMW
used this forum to lambast the British government and the indolence of its own
Rover workforce. Two years later, the Rover 75 became the main intellectual
asset of MG Rover, now uneasily liberated from German ownership. Good car
that it was, the 75 could never buoy the fortunes of the surviving British motor
industry alone. Until 2005, though, it did its level best.
Renault Avantime, 2001
The Avantime was a lemon. It was beloved of style critics, who loved to
postulate about the way the car defied industry norms. But the public were no
fools. The whole project was born out of consolation. French niche manufacturer
Matra had, since 1984, derived its lifeblood from building the Espace for
Renault—the groundbreaking, plastic-bodied MPV that Matra had also helped
design. When Renault decided it wanted to make this in-house (and from steel),
Matra was offered the sop of creating a top-end Renault luxury car. It chose to
fashion a large, two-door, four-seater coupé on an MPV scale so Matra could
build it like the old Espace—that is, with a galvanised steel structure and
composite body panels.
Audi elected to do away with an opening bonnet altogether on the A2. All the
customer needed was water, oil, and screen-wash fillers and a dipstick handle,
behind a neat folding flap. The user-friendly interface extended to the A2’s
interior, where the two rear seats (a three-abreast bench was optional) could fold
singly, separately, or be removed altogether. Audi’s Space Floor Concept gave
rear passengers footwells sunken under the floor beneath the front seats,
providing excellent seating posture. An optional full-length glass roof panel was
available. So the A2 was ahead of the curve in terms of technology and thrift,
but its strangely clinical, smoothly contoured futurism lost out to the new Mini’s
warmly retro character. The slow-selling baby Audi was axed in 2005 before it
had the chance to truly shine in the global economic downturn.
CHAPTER 17
LANDMARK designs
Car design has progressed from the 1899 Benz to today’s sophisticated
models through a long series of steps, some larger and more revolutionary
than others, some registering great leaps in technology, others triggering
social change or altering the way we use our vehicles. Here we present our
submissions in the challenge to select the most significant designs in 120
years of automotive history
Mercedes 35 horsepower, 1901
Gottlieb Daimler built the world’s first four-wheeled car by adapting a horse-
drawn coach; subsequent efforts were similarly short, tall, and unstable. So,
driven by entrepreneur Emile Jellinek’s marketing plans for his nascent
Mercedes brand, Daimler’s engineers rethought the automobile. Their Mercedes
35-horsepower sports-tourer was revolutionary, setting a packaging pattern
followed by most mainstream carmakers for decades. Cradled by a pressed-steel
chassis frame, occupants sat behind—rather than above—a four-cylinder engine
under a bonnet and behind a honeycomb radiator. It had a gate gear change, a
foot throttle, a raked steering column, and vastly better road-holding thanks to a
lower centre of gravity.
Ford Model T, 1908
Henry Ford’s Model T was cleverly planned as a light, simple, rugged car of a
standard design that could be built in ever higher numbers at ever lower prices.
There were, at first, five factory-built body styles on offer, but all Model Ts
offered 10.5 inches of ground clearance to cope with America’s rough,
undeveloped rural roads. With the hood raised, the Model T was 7 feet tall. As
moving-line mass production was introduced, “Japan black” paintwork was
standardised because it was cheap, durable, and, on some components, faster-
drying to speed up manufacturing; colour choice returned in 1926 with the
advent of quick-drying cellulose paint.
Renault 4, 1961
Lincoln Continental, 1961
The “clap-door” Continental is one of America’s most important cars.
Eschewing the fins and chrome then still popular on most domestic cars, Lincoln
launched a car with clean, unadorned lines, American in scale but almost
European in feel; it was slab-sided, magnificent, and unforgettable. Members of
the design team included Eugene Bordinat, Don de la Rossa, and Elwood Engel.
The rear-hinged rear door provided the clap-door nickname, and it became the
“in” car with the rich and famous. Endorsement by the White House was great
too—except that it was in a stretched Continental that President John F.
Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas in 1963.
Renault 5, 1972
Volkswagen Golf, 1974
The quintessential hatchback and a landmark design for Giorgetto Giugiaro, the
Golf was as pure in its design philosophy as the Beetle, which had feathered the
nest for it: a simple, reliable, truly modern and high-quality machine for the
people—just like the Beetle. And, just like the Beetle, Detroit scorned. (GM’s
Bill Mitchell called it a “bullfrog that swallowed a box.”) As with the Beetle,
VW had the last laugh. Old Golfs don’t perish easily, so it will be years before
the rarity of original survivors highlights the car’s significance. Above all, it
established a standard of aesthetic clarity in its sector.
Audi 100
Fiat Uno, 1983
The Fiat Uno saw Giorgetto Giugiaro’s vision for the future of passenger
comfort made real. A series of concept cars from his Italdesign consultancy—the
Alfa Romeo Taxi in 1976, the Lancia Megagamma in 1978, and the Alfa Romeo
Capsula in 1982—had been created around the idea of a tall and commanding
passenger compartment against a prevailing 1970s norm of low-slung and
cocooning. The Uno brought this welcome new aspect to the showroom, with
deep glass and excellent headroom, giving Fiat a distinct advantage over
supermini rivals such as the Ford Fiesta and VW Polo.
MINI, 2000
BMW 7 Series, 2002
The BMW E65 7 Series will never grace the automotive hall of fame because,
accomplished as it is, it is merely one of many large executive cars jostling in an
established market sector for broadly the same, sober customers. What it will be
remembered for, with its bustle-back rear end with a twin-deck boot lid, its large
wheels, and its overstated visage, is stirring up huge debate—especially online—
about car design. Its creator, Chris Bangle, split opinion with his cussed new
direction for mainstream BMW styling. Whether deemed good or bad by critics,
professional or layman, the main thing was that it was talked about. Sales,
meanwhile, were notably unaffected.
Beltline
The line directly underneath the side windows of the car created by the junction
of the greenhouse and the body side or shoulder. The position and inclination
of the beltline affects the appearance and proportion of a car, as well as its
character and stance. A car with a low beltline and tall greenhouse may look
delicate, elegant, or modern. A car with a high beltline and shallow greenhouse
will tend to look tough and mean. A rising beltline provides the long,
fashionable wedge appearance and imparts a dynamic sense of purpose and
direction.
UK English: Waistline
Body section
A vertical slice through a car body side that is then viewed at 90 degrees to help
understand or appreciate the form. Tape lines applied across the surface show a
section nicely, the trailing edge of an open front door describes it perfectly, but
only at that point; body sections are rarely constant. A glance at typical body
sections will reveal that most have convex main surfaces, although creases and
feature lines may introduce local negative contrasts.
Bone line (See also swage line, feature line, crease, character line):
There can be a fine line between some of these terms, and this has led to a
certain interchangeability of terminology. Though not structural per se, all of the
above terms have an important primary function in reinforcing body panel
stiffness and reducing vibration. They will, however, be part of the visual
structure of a car.
Their principal purpose is to variously create definition, add emphasis, visual
interest, design organisation, and to direct—or even deceive—the viewer’s eye.
A bone line is a hard, positive only, linear peak in a car’s body side, more
prominent than a crease line. Relating it to the often-used “taut skin over muscle
and sinew” metaphor (see haunch), this implies sheet metal, similarly stretched,
but over something more structural. An interesting, or unique, bone line can also
be a character line.
Bonnet
UK English term for hood.
Bulkhead
UK English term for firewall.
Cab forward
Cab forward design, coined by Chrysler and first seen on the 1987 Portofino
concept car, led to the production of a family of cab-forward products, including
the 1993 Dodge Intrepid and the 1994 Chrysler LH and New Yorker. The benefit
to the overall package was space: By moving the screen, driver, and passenger
forward, space was liberated for the rear compartment, and this was further
enhanced by moving the (non-driven) rear wheels, and therefore wheel arch
intrusion, backwards. One way or another, it was a pretty innovative package
and style combination.
Cant rail
The structural member that usually sits squarely on top of the B-pillar, forming
the top edge of the door frame aperture, and which may run (visually) seamlessly
into the A-and C-pillars, an arrangement most clearly defined by glass-roofed
versions of cars, such as the Mercedes E-Class.
Character line
An important feature line or crease that may be sculpted or, more pleasingly,
created by the meeting of two planes on a car’s surface and that gives or adds
both definition and personality to the form. A character line is more fundamental
and important to a design than a feature line or a crease, and the best examples
may be sufficiently unique to represent that car when abstracted, e.g. Seat Altea,
Mercedes CLS.
See also: Form language, surface language
Cheater panel
The small triangular, usually matte black–painted, surface at the base of the A–
pillar. It generally forms the leading edge of the side glass graphic—or DLO—
on, or just ahead of, the front door and which may usefully disguise sculptural
uncertainties in this awkward, but key, conjunction of three planes. For such a
small item, its contribution is surprisingly important. Functionally, if in the door,
it happily provides a natural platform for external rear-view mirrors and a useful
channel for the front glass drop.
Rear cheater (or Flag in the United States). Again, a small, usually matte
black–painted, triangular panel at the base of the trailing edge of the rear side
window or in the rear quarter panel. In the former, its function will be to create a
shorter door glass, to provide a vertical channel, and to enable the window to be
lowered without obstruction from the door closing and locking mechanisms.
Functional considerations aside, designers will use cheaters to create the illusion
of a longer and more elegant DLO.
Clay
Automotive styling clay is a dull, brown, grainless, wax-based material used as a
finishing surface for scale and full-size exterior and interior models. Although
temperature sensitive, unlike water-based ceramic clay, it doesn’t dry out and
cannot be fired. When preheated to around 60 degrees Celsius, it becomes very
malleable and is applied as a 25-millimeter or so skin over a structure called a
buck or armature. After cooling to room temperature, it is then sculpted using a
variety of hand tools or computer-controlled three-or five-axis milling machines.
The particular advantage of clay is that it can as easily be added to as subtracted
from, and the finished product is, literally, seamless.
Dressed clays
As clay is a dull and lifeless material, clay models need a bit of help to be
properly understood by decision-making non-designers. The simplest form of
dressed clay—whether small-scale or full-size—is one in which the glass areas
are blacked out. This can be achieved quickly and easily using black masking
tape or black paint. Shut lines, wheels, and other areas of contrast will have
been added, leaving the bare clay to represent the painted surfaces. This provides
effective 3D graphic contrast, though finer nuances of the design may still
effectively be camouflaged by the non-reflective clay. The next step will be to
Di-Noc or paint the remaining surfaces.
Crease line
A crease is the pressed or folded line created by the meeting of two different
planes or surfaces. Unlike feature lines, a crease is integral to a design, and
cannot simply be applied to a surface, but is commonly the means of defining
major surfaces and elevations. A crease may be positive or negative but has
more inherent integrity than a feature line. However, a particularly strong or
interesting crease in an otherwise simple surface might take on the importance of
a character line. Two very adjacent creases may work together to create a
feature line, like those seen on Giugiaro’s 1974 Mk 1 VW Golf.
Crown
Crown in a panel is compound curvature—usually convex: In one plane, it
would simply be curvature. To the engineer, crown provides inherent stiffness;
to the designer it enables the control of highlights and lightlines.
The appearance of flatness can be achieved by the very subtle use of crown,
but true flatness cannot be accurately controlled. A simple way of measuring
crown is to compare it with an offered-up straight-edge. There is always
considerably more crown—in any direction—on automotive surfaces than seems
apparent, likely, or even possible. Glass is not considered to have crown. Glass
surfaces, particularly windscreens, are to all intents and purposes, single
curvature. The principal curvature—in plan for front and rear screens, end
elevation for side glass—dominates any slight, but necessary curvature in the
opposing planes.
Crumple zones
Those sacrificial front and rear ends of a car, designed to progressively collapse
—or crumple—in a controlled manner, absorbing and dissipating crash forces
rather than transmitting them to the more expensive mechanical parts or the
occupants.
They can also make the visual consequences of a modest accident look rather
alarming and give rise to uninformed speculation about the flimsiness of modern
cars. Since Euro NCAP (New Car Assessment Programme) started publishing
the results of its independent testing, occupant safety has become highly
marketable. Yet now that manufacturers have demonstrated they can rise to the
that challenge, NCAP has started publishing results of pedestrian safety tests,
which may have a greater effect on the appearance of the front end of cars.
DLO
The expression stands for “day light opening” and is used to describe the graphic
shape of a car’s side glass. The DLO is the strongest and most important graphic
element of a car’s design, as it provides the opportunity to create a major
contrasting surface that can be employed to flatter or accentuate a form.
Where there’s graphic continuity, it may also include the front and/or rear
screens. This notion has really only been convincingly achievable since the
advent of flush glazing and bonded front and rear screens that additionally
enabled non-opening pillars to be glazed over.
Di-Noc
Di-Noc is a thin, prepainted—usually in silver—stretchable plastic film that is
applied like a transfer—by sliding it into place off its wetted backing paper. The
advantage this has over paint is that it can be simply peeled off to facilitate
design changes without spoiling the clay surface.
DNA
Design DNA has become a term banded about by the automotive design
fraternity and, like the term diva, popularised in the media to the extent that the
true meaning and value of the expression has been lost.
The terms genetic information, hereditary character, and pedigree get to the
contextual meaning—core marque values—the deep-down being of a company
and how its designed products might reflect these fundamental values and
connect with other products from the same company. It is not about the
incorporation of relatively superficial styling themes, devices, or clichés, which
have more to do with brand identity and marketing strategies: It is rather,
marque identity, which is not the same thing at all.
The Citroën 2CV and DS are nothing alike physically, but share the same
inherently innovative, clear-thinking creativity, intrigue, and fitness for purpose
that was the essence—DNA if you like—of all the great Citroëns.
Feature line
A simple line in a car’s body surface. The best feature lines will be sympathetic
to the design of a car, but some may simply have been introduced to relieve
otherwise dull or large areas of plain sheet metal. They can also be used to
accentuate the form and to link, tie in, coordinate, or visually organise the loose
array of items, such as door handles, vents, rear number plate recess, and front
and rear lenses, etc., which appear on all cars. Any and all body panels may have
feature lines—some have been known to have too many. See also crease line.
Fender
Fenders are those local panels that are legally required to wrap or cover road
wheels, protecting the bodywork—sometimes the occupants—and other road
users from spray, dirt, stones, and anything else thrown up by the revolving
tyres. In their early, simplest form, they closely followed the shape of the wheel,
like bicycle mudguards. Today, identifiable front fenders live on in all body
configurations, but rear fenders only in three-box saloons. Integral in
hatchbacks, the panel—which accommodates the rear wheel—is referred to as
the rear quarter panel.
UK English: Wing
Firewall
The structural panel that separates the engine compartment from the passenger
compartment. Principle functions include sound and heat insulation, but the
firewall may also support items like the battery or screen wash bottle. Sports cars
and some sedans have rear firewalls, though these days many are engineered
into the seat backs.
UK English: Bulkhead
Hard points
Points on a package drawing indicating the position of component parts or
extremities that cannot be moved and that must therefore be accommodated or
designed around.
These include the engine, suspension, fuel tank, wheel centres, and wheelbase
(and therefore inner wheel arches) pedals—maybe a whole shared platform—
thereby exerting considerable influence on both exterior and interior designs.
With pedestrian impact legislation requiring an 81-millimetre clearance over
those (literally) immovable components to allow sufficient panel deformation,
some hard points—along with headswing clearances—have become theoretical
points in space and are creating an impact of their own on the appearance of
cars, particularly the front end.
Front and rear lamps, which have to comply with a range of positional
requirements, could be said to be negotiable hard points, as the 1999 Fiat
Multipla ably demonstrates.
Haunch
Haunch is the name given to the emphatic sculpting of the fender panel above
the rear wheel arches, which alludes to skin tightly stretched over the well-toned
muscles and sinews of an athlete and therefore implies power and performance.
Haunches have been an essential ingredient of the generic rear-wheel drive
coupé from the 1950s and are often associated with Jaguar, which has used this
device as a key part of its form language since then.
Hood
The exterior body panel that covers the engine compartment of front-engined
cars (they’re called engine covers on rear-engined cars) and that can usually be
lifted or opened to provide access to the engine. The trailing edge is called the
hood cowl line. Hood shut lines are usually on the top surface and flow neatly
forwards from the inside edge of the A-pillar. Most Land Rovers and Saabs
have signature clamshell hoods that effectively incorporate the tops of the front
fenders, moving the shut lines (and their associated flanges) to the body sides.
UK English: Bonnet
Indexing
Indexing is the organizational business of lining up surfaces, features, and details
in order to achieve sculptural flow and graphic continuity, but it is only
necessary, or referred to, when there is a gap, or break, in physical continuity
created by—for example—the wheels.
A car’s body sides sculpted straight through without the intrusion of wheel
openings, which are then surgically removed, would guarantee surface and
feature line continuity and perfect indexing.
But there may be an element of cheating in the process—strict continuity of
line, etc. may be implied and therefore perceived rather than actual. The trusting
human eye makes the connection, and no one is any the wiser.
By contrast, the banana-shaped sills of the Peugeot 306 were clearly only
considered between the wheel arches in both side and plan views—a device used
in some sports cars to maximise visual emphasis on the wheels and therefore
performance.
Indexing occurs elsewhere on cars, too. The upper and lower grilles on Audis
were indexed through the bumper until Walter de’Silva joined up the dots to
create the brand’s bold new face. There is some serious and some playfully
absent (on the doors) indexing on the L R Discovery 4.
Instrument panel (IP) (Also Facia, Dashboard, Dash)
The instrument panel (or IP) is a hugely important, multifunctional platform that
contains information displays relating to a car’s performance, well-being, and
geographical location; major and minor controls; switches, etc.; heating and
ventilation outlets; storage access; and, of course, the obligatory cupholder. It
also conceals a number of functions—the passenger airbag, the air-
conditioning/ventilation/screen-demisting systems and their associated trunking,
as well as the important structural crossmember.
Jewellery
The collective name for those bright component parts applied to the main
exterior body surfaces (grille, wheels, and painted brake callipers even), head
and taillights, side repeaters, door handles, bright trim, and badges) or in the
interior (sometimes switches, instruments, vents, local metallised details, etc.).
Their impact will depend on contrast with body colour. Jewellery will stand
out against dark colours and be discrete against silver—though this can be a
useful way of diminishing un attractive details.
Lighting has become serious jewellery, projector and LED technology
enabling anything designers can dream up—a far cry from the once-obligatory
off-the-shelf seven-inch round sealed-beam headlights.
Mercedes used to be the most consummate user of chrome, but used it to
define form rather than just decorate it, turning it into a Teutonic art form with
the 1963 600 limousine. (illus)
Overdone aftermarket jewellery can, in effect, turn a whole car—usually a
large, black 4x4 with huge chrome wheels and spinners—into an item of bling.
Joint lines
The trunk lids of some cars simply cannot be pressed in one piece because of the
inherent right-angled nature of the panel, coupled with the preferred sharp
undercuts associated with the design of some licence plate recesses.
The impression of a single panel is achieved by butting and laser welding a
separate lower licence plate–bearing panel to the main boot pressing, but this
does leave a (barely visible) joint line sometimes concealed by a bright strip.
Lightlines—see Highlights and Lightlines
Overhang
Those parts of a car that project forward of the front wheels and extend
rearwards of the rear wheels and that incorporate the crumple zones.
The relationship between overhang and wheelbase is critical in achieving an
overall visual balance: Too much overhang is undesirable. Fortunately, the
visual perception of excessive overhang can be reduced by the judicious use of
plan shape. Some designers argue that unequal overhangs add a certain visual
dynamic, whereas a car with equal overhangs will tend to look inherently static.
Package/Package drawing
A package is the basic layout of a car. Typically, package drawings are
delivered, via engineering, as an assembled collection of largely nonnegotiable
hard points in the form of the car’s unclothed functional contents.
This will include recommended length, width, and height; wheel centres;
engine, drivetrain, and fuel tank location; screen position and angle; and
maximum and minimum percentile manikin positions (with sightlines); the latter
will also impact on the interior’s design, as will inner wheel arch intrusion.
In 2D elevation, or 3D CAD form, this will provide the initial underlay over
and around which a designer will have to demonstrate his sketches can be
persuaded to fit—without loss of character. Drawn over a tens lines grid, to a
stated scale, and therefore measurable, package drawings leave no scope for
artistic licence.
Pillars
Pillars fulfill a number of primary functions. They are important structural
members, doors are hinged off and/or close on to them, they support the roof
cage and protect the occupants, and visually frame the windows. Pillars may be
cage and protect the occupants, and visually frame the windows. Pillars may be
removed graphically by being matte blacked out or by being wrapped by the side
or rear glass and by internal masking to achieve the required DLO graphic.
Plan shape
Plan view is simply the elevational view of a car as seen from directly above.
Plan shape refers to the amount of curvature in body sides, and particularly front
and rear ends, as seen from above (i.e., in plan view).
Cars have predominantly constant curvature in plan, but these days this
curvature will accelerate noticeably towards the front and rear ends (where it is
referred to as tuck-in), leading into much more generously radiused corners—or
in some cases, effectively, no corners at all. Clever use of plan shape—visually
pulling the corners back—provides the best opportunity to disguise the greater
overhangs required by ever-tougher impact testing.
Platform
It is not unreasonable to think of a platform as a latter-day chassis—a basic
structural and mechanical architecture subsequently clad in the visible sheet
metal of the bodywork. It is the invisibility of the elements of the platform—
typically powertrains, suspensions, and structural pressings, such as floorpans
and firewalls—that enables the widespread practice of platform sharing and the
massive economies of scale to be achieved. This is common among different
brands in the same group (ie VW/Audi/Seat), but the pursuit of economy leads to
some surprise partnerships (Fiat 500/Ford Ka).
Screen angle
This is the angle the windshield of a car slopes back from the vertical, measured
at its center line. A “faster,” more acute angle traditionally signifies a sportier
kind of car. The limit, however, is physical rather than legislative: As the screen
angle increases, so too does the likelihood of internal refractions, 67 degrees
being the angle at which laminated glass effectively starts to become opaque.
The iconic Lamborghini Countach was pretty much on the limit for screen angle.
The glass areas are part of a car’s sculptural form, and while a screen will be
substantially flat in front of the driver’s eyes, double curvature may be
introduced at the sides where the screen wraps round to meet the tumblehome
of the side glass.
Shut line
A shut line—or cut line—is the necessary clearance gap between two adjacent
exterior body panels or interior trim panels, either of which may be openable.
They may be identified individually as door shuts or hood shuts, and their
tightness and consistency are reliable indicators of build quality. Continuity of
surface and feature lines, and alignment of adjacent panels, is now taken for
granted. Designers seize every opportunity to incorporate shut lines that will be
sympathetic to a car’s form and reflect its character and that will be consistent
with its surface language.
Stance
Stance suggests attitude, intent, and ability; confers presence; and is equally
identifiable whether a car is stationary or on the move. (The apparently similar
term poise refers to a car’s dynamic behaviour). Stance is largely defined by the
body-to-wheel and the overall vehicle-to-ground relationships that are important
in all cars, but vital on those for which attitude is critical. Wheels that fill a car’s
wheel arches in depth as well as diameter will suggest a confident stability.
Wheels and wheel arches pulled out from the body sides will imply performance
and even aggression, as will minimal ground clearance. Conversely, generous
ground clearance is both a physical and visual requirement of an off-road
vehicle.
Surface language—see form language
Swage line
Swaging is a technique in which cold metal is formed over a grooved tool or
swage. In the early automotive context, the edge of one panel was swaged so that
it could overlap its neighbour to create the impression of a continuous surface—
usually running along the beltline or waistline. By the time production
techniques made one-piece doors possible, the swage line had become a popular,
elegant device (and a useful division in two-color paint schemes) often
concealed by coachlined or chromed waist mouldings, effectively becoming, in
the process, a feature line. Today, the term is often used generically—
particularly by those with an engineering background—for any raised,
continuous, pressed bodyside crease or feature lines.
Tumblehome
Tumblehome is nautical terminology. It was introduced to automotive design
with the advent of curved side glass and the need to describe the convex inward
curvature of the side of a car above the beltline or waistline.
Unlike screen angles, the degree or amount of tumblehome is not measured.
The amount of tumblehome needs to be carefully balanced by the designer as
part of the overall car package. Cars like the Fiat Multipla or Honda Crossroad
are examples of cars with very little tumblehome, due to their emphasis on
practicality and spaciousness.
Waistline—See Beltline
Wheel arches
These are essentially circular apertures in the body sides that admit the road
wheels and, importantly, frame them. At their simplest—and often most
satisfying—wheel arches appear to have been surgically cut out of the body
sides. The relationship of wheel to wheel arch is critical, and designers attempt
to make the former fill the latter as fully as possible. Wheel arches—and the
wheels—may be emphasised by pulling out the body sides locally or by the
addition of wheel arch extensions or eyebrows. Sometimes made from textured
matte-black plastic, these offer the added bonus of reducing the depth of—and
protecting—the painted sheet metal between the wheel arch and the top of the
fender. Clever detailing on the sheet metal may be used to achieve the same
result.
Wheelbase
This is the distance between the front and rear wheel centres and is a critical
dimension in the quest for internal space efficiency and optimised
accommodation. Successive models in all manufacturers’ ranges tend to be
incrementally bigger than their predecessors, but the biggest dimensional gain is
invariably to the wheelbase. Overhangs consequently have been quietly
shrinking. The wheelbase is also a critical dimension visually, contributing
greatly to the balance and proportion of a car.
Wing—See Fender
directory
Becoming a car designer
These days almost all car designers have completed a course in vehicle or
transportation design, although an increasing number of young designers are
coming from industrial or product design backgrounds. This is particularly the
case among those working on automotive interior design. Nevertheless, the
majority of young car designers are drawn from transportation design courses,
which are the first port of call for car designer recruitment.
Germany
Hochschule Pforzheim
Tiefenbronner Str 65
75175 Pforzheim
Germany
Tel: + 49 7231 28 68 91
Email: mtd@fh-pforzheim.de
Website: www.fh-pforzheim.de
Italy
Istituto d’Arte Applicata e
Design—Torino
Via Lagrange 7
10123 Turin
Italy
Tel: +39 011 584 868
Fax: +39 011 584 868
Website: www.iaad.it
Spain
Elisava Escola de Disseny Superior
Plaza de la Merce
C/Ample 11-13
08002 Barcelona
Spain
Tel: +34 933 174715
Fax: +34 933 178353
Website: www.iccic.edu
Sweden
Institute of Design
Umea University
SE–90197 Umea
Sweden
Tel: +46 90 786 69 90
Fax: +46 90 786 6697
Website: www.dh.umu.se
United Kingdom
School of Art & Design
Coventry University
Priory Street
Coventry
Warwickshire, CV1 5FB
UK
Tel: +44 1203 631313
Fax: +44 1203 838 793
Website: www.coventry.ac.uk/csad/
University of Huddersfield
School of Design & Technology
Queensgate
Huddersfield
West Yorkshire, HD1 3DH
UK
Tel: +44 1484 473813
Email: info@huddersfield3d.co.uk
Website: www.huddersfield3d.co.uk
NORTH AMERICA
United States
Academy of Art
79 New Montgomery Street
San Francisco, CA 94105
USA
Tel: +1 415 274 2200
Email: info@academyart.edu
Website: www.academyart.edu
University of Cincinnati
Transportation Design
School of Design
2624 Clifton Avenue
Cincinnati, OH 45221
USA
Tel: +1 5135566000
Website: www.design.uc.edu/ transportation The Cleveland Institute of Art
University Circle
11141 East Boulevard
Cleveland, OH 44106-1710
USA
Tel: +1 216 421 7000
Fax: +1 216 421 7438
Website: www.cia.edu
ASIA/OCEANIA
China
Tsinghua University
Beijing 100084
China
Tel: +861062782015
Fax: +861062770349
Website: www.tsinghua.edu.cn/eng/
India
Bhopal Institute of Transportation Styling
Sanasar Chandra Road
India
Tel: +91 11 456892
Fax: +91 11 625432
Website: n/a
Korea
Hong Ik University
Sangsudong 72
1 Mapogu
Seoul, Korea
Tel: +82 02 320 1114
Fax: +82 02 320 1122
Website: www.hongik.ac.kr
Australia
Faculty of Art & Design
Monash University
900 Dandenong Road
Caulfield
East Victoria 3145
Australia
Tel: +61 3 9903 2707
Fax: +61 3 9903 2845
Website: www.artdes.monash.edu.au
EUROPE
Spain
Escuela Universitaria de Ingeniería Tecnica
Industrial (EUITI)
Universidad Politecnica
Camino de Vera, s/n
Valencia 46071
Spain
Tel: +34 96 387 74 64
Fax: +34 96 387 74 64
Website: ttt.upv.es/relint/
NORTH AMERICA
Canada
Carleton University
School of Industrial Design
3470 MacKenize Building
1125 Colonel by Drive
Ottawa, Ontario K1S-5B6
Canada
Tel: +1 613 520 5672
Fax: +1 613 520 4465
Website: www.id.carleton.ca
Humber College
205 Humber College Boulevard
Toronto, Ontario M9W 5L7
Canada
Tel: +1 416 675 3111
Website: appliedtechnology.humberc.on.ca United States
Cranbrook Academy of Art
39221 Woodward Avenue
Box 801
Bloomfield Hills, MI 48303-0801
USA
Tel: +1 248 645 3300
Fax: +1 248 646 0046
Website: www.cranbrookart.edu
ASIA
India
National Institute of Design
Paldi
Ahmedabad 380007
India
Tel: +91 79 6639692
E-mail: info@nid.edu
Website: www.nid.edu
Korea
Industrial Design Department
Seoul National University of Technology
172, Gongung2-dong
NoWon-gu
Seoul
Korea
Tel: +82 02 970 6678
Fax: +82 02 970 6667
Website: www.snut.ac.kr/eng/
Japan
Industrial Design Department
Musashino Art University
1-736 Ogawa-Cho
Kodaira—ShiTokyo
187-8505
Japan
Tel: +81 42 342 5011
Fax: +81 42 342 6452
Website: http://musabi.ac.jp/e-home/home.html
Abarth
Performance brand of Fiat
Turin, Italy
www.abarth.it
Acura
Luxury brand of Honda
Torrance, Calif., USA
www.acura.com
Alfa Romeo
Sports premium brand of Fiat group
Turin, Italy
www.alfaromeo.com
Aston Martin
Independent luxury sportscar maker
Gaydon, UK
www.astonmartin.com
Audi
Premium brand of Volkswagen
Ingolstadt, Germany
www.audi.com
Bentley
Super-luxury brand of Volkswagen
Crewe, England
www.bentleymotors.com
BMW
Premium carmaker
Munich, Germany
www.bmwgroup.com
Brilliance
Chinese automaker
Shenyang City, China
www.zhonghuacar.com
Bugatti
Supercar maker, Volkswagen group
Molsheim, France
www.bugatti.com
Buick
Part of General Motors
Detroit, USA
www.buick.com
BYD
Chinese maker of hybrids and electrics
Shenzhen, China
www.bydauto.com.cn
Cadillac
Luxury brand of General Motors
Detroit, USA
www.cadillac.com
Caterham
Enthusiasts’ sports cars
Dartford, UK
www.caterham.co.uk
Chana
Chinese maker of small cars
Chongquing, China
Chery
Major Chinese automaker
Wuhu City, China
www.chery.com.cn
Chevrolet
Principal brand of GM
Detroit, USA
www.chevrolet.com
Chrysler
US group controlled by Fiat
Auburn Hills, Mich., USA
www.chrysler.com
Citroën
Part of PSA Peugeot Citroën
Paris, France
www.citroen.com
Dacia
Entry brand of Renault
Pitesti, Romania
www.dacia.ro
Daewoo
Korean operation of GM
Seoul, Korea
www.chevroleteurope.com
Daihatsu
Part of Toyota group
Osaka, Japan
www.daihatsu.co.jp
Daimler
Parent company of Mercedes and Smart
Stuttgart, Germany
www.daimler.com
Dodge
Part of Chrysler group
Auburn Hills, Mich., USA
www.dodge.com
Ferrari
Supercar maker controlled by Fiat
Maranello, Italy
www.ferrari.com
Fiat
Volume car maker
Turin, Italy
www.fiat.com
Fisker
Luxury hybrid car maker
Irvine, Calif., USA
www.fisker.com
Ford
Multinational carmaker
Cologne, Germany & Dearborn, USA
www.ford.com
Geely
Major Chinese carmaker
Hangzhou, China
www.geely.com
GMC
Truck brand of GM
Detroit, USA
www.gmc.com
Great Wall
Significant Chinese automaker
Baoding, China
Hafei
Chinese small car maker
Harbin, China
Hindustan
Long-established Indian carmaker
Calcutta, India
Calcutta, India
Holden
Australian brand of GM
Melbourne, Australia
www.holden.com.au
Honda
Major car and motorcycle maker
Tokyo, Japan
www.honda.co.jp
Hongqui
Chinese large car maker
Chanchun, China
www.faw.com.cn
Hummer
Extreme SUV brand of GM, facing closure
South Bend, Ind., USA
www.hummer.com
Hyundai
Major Korean group
Seoul, Korea
www.hyundai.com
Infiniti
Luxury brand of Nissan
Tokyo, Japan
www.infiniti.com
Isuzu
Japanese SUV maker
Tokyo, Japan
www.isuzu.co.jp
Iveco
Truck brand of Fiat
Turin, Italy
www.iveco.com
Jaguar
Luxury car maker, owned by Tata
Coventry, UK
www.jaguar.com
Jeep
SUV brand of Chrysler
Auburn Hills, Mich., USA
www.jeep.com
JMC Landwind
Chinese SUV maker
Nanchang, China
www.landwind.com
Kia
Part of Hyundai group
Seoul, Korea
www.kia-motors.com
Koenigsegg
Extreme supercars
Ängelholm, Sweden
www.koenigsegg.se
KTM
Lightweight sports cars, motorcycles
Mattighofen, Austria
www.ktm-x-bow.com
Lada
Major Russian firm, controlled by Renault
Togliatti, Russia
Lamborghini
Extreme supercars, part of VW group
Sant’Agata Bolognese, Italy
www.lamborghini.com
Lancia
Premium brand of Fiat
Turin, Italy
www.lancia.com
Land Rover
Premium SUVs, part of Tata group
Solihull, UK
www.landrover.com
Lexus
Luxury brand of Toyota
Tokyo, Japan
www.lexus.com
Lincoln
US luxury brand of Ford
Dearborn, Mich., USA
www.lincoln.com
Lotus
Specialist sports cars, controlled by Proton
Hethel, UK
www.grouplotus.com
LTI
Makers of London taxi
Coventry, UK
www.lti.co.uk
Mahindra
SUV and truckmaker
Mumbai, India
www.mahindra.com
Maruti Suzuki
Major Indian carmaker
New Delhi, India
www.marutisuzuki.com
Maserati
Luxury sports cars, part of Fiat group
Modena, Italy
www.maserati.com
Maybach
Super-luxury brand of Daimler
Stuttgart, Germany
www.maybach-manufaktur.com
Mazda
Volume carmaker closely linked to Ford
Hiroshima, Japan
www.mazda.com
McLaren
Extreme sports cars
Woking, UK
www.mclarenautomotive.com
Mercedes-Benz
Principal brand of Daimler
Stuttgart, Germany
www.daimler.com
Mercury
Part of US Ford group, soon to close
Dearborn, Mich., USA
www.mercuryvehicles.com
MG
Former British brand, owned by Nanjing
Nanjing, China
Mini
Premium small car brand, owned by BMW
Oxford, UK
www.mini.com
Mitsubishi
Volume car maker
Tokyo, Japan
www.mitsubishimotors.com
Morgan
Specialist sports cars
Malvern Link, UK
www.morgan-motor.co.uk
Nissan
Volume car maker, allied with Renault
Tokyo, Japan
www.nissan.co.jp
Opel
European brand of GM. Vauxhall in UK
Rüsselsheim, Germany
www.opel.com
Pagani
Extreme sports cars
Modena, Italy
Perodua
Licence-build of Daihatsu models
Malaysia
www.perodua.com.my
Peugeot
Part of PSA group
Paris, France
www.peugeot.com
Pontiac
Defunct brand of GM
Detroit, USA
Porsche
Sports car maker controlled by VW
Stuttgart-Zuffenhausen, Germany
www.porsche.com
Proton
Malaysian small car maker
Selangor, Malaysia
www.proton.com
Renault
Volume car maker, allied with Nissan
Boulogne-Billancourt, France
www.renault.com
Roewe
Premium brand of SAIC
Shanghai, China
www.saicgroup.com
Rolls-Royce
Super-luxury marque, part of BMW group
Chichester, UK
www.rolls-roycemotorcars.com
Saab
Former GM brand, owned by Spyker
Trollhättan, Sweden
www.saab.com
Samsung
Part of Renault-Nissan alliance
Seoul, Korea
www.renaultsamsungm.com
Scion
US youth brand of Toyota
Torrance, Calif., USA
www.scion.com
SEAT
Part of VW group
Barcelona, Spain
www.seat.com
Skoda
Part of VW group
Mlada Boleslav, Czech Republic
www.skoda-auto.com
Smart
Microcar brand of Daimler
Böblingen, Germany
www.smart.com
Spyker
Luxury sports car maker, owns Saab
Zeewolde, Netherlands
www.spykercars.nl
Ssangyong
SUV maker, controlled by SAIC
Seoul, Korea
www.smotor.com
Subaru
Part of Toyota group
Tokyo, Japan
www.subaru.co.jp
Suzuki
Small cars, SUVs, motorcycles
Hamamatsu, Japan
www.globalsuzuki.com
Tata
Indian truck and car maker
Mumbai, India
www.tatamotors.com
Tesla
Electric sports cars
San Carlos, Calif., USA
www.teslamotors.com
Toyota
Global No. 1 carmaker
Toyota City, Japan
www.toyota.com
UAZ
SUV and truck maker
Ulianovsk, Russia
Venturi
Electric vehicles
Monaco
www.venturi.fr
Volga
Part of GAZ group
Niznhy Novgorod, Russia
Volkswagen
Leading European automaker
Wolfsburg, Germany
www.volkswagen.de
Volvo
Likely to be sold to Geely
Gothenburg, Sweden
www.volvocars.com
acknowledgments
When a book approaches the subject of car design from so many different angles
as this one does, it takes a pretty impressive cast of characters to ensure that
everything comes together coherently and that the final product is clear and, I
hope, entertaining.
So top on our thank-you list are all senior figures in the design business with
exceptional talent for either promoting the cause of good design by explaining it
to a broader audience, for teaching it to aspiring young designers, or for
demonstrating it in the metal through the products they create.
Our particular appreciation therefore goes to the PSA Peugeot Citroën design
team in Paris, led by Jean-Pierre Ploué, for the insights they allowed me into
their work and their way of working; Ian Callum, architect of Jaguar’s dynamic
new style, kindly consented to write the Foreword, while the diary kept by
Oliver le Grice, head of advanced design at Land Rover, gives a privileged
insight into the working life of a top designer. Alfonso Albaisa, Marc Girard,
Anthony Lo, Gordon Murray, Marek Reichman, Adrian van Hooydonk, Peter
Schreyer and David Wilkie and many other designers all spared their precious
time to answer our questions, either face-to-face or on the phone, and we would
like to thank the students at Hoschschule Pforzheim, Umeå Institute of Design,
CCS Detroit and Coventry University for submitting their work for inclusion in
Chapter 12. We are especially grateful to Professor Dale Harrow, head of vehicle
design at London’s Royal College of Art for his essay on the importance of
transportation design and its place within the world and to David Browne, course
director for automotive design at Coventry, for his outstanding glossary of car
design terms, surely the best ever to have appeared in print. Our thanks also go
to colleagues Giles Chapman for his infallible photo library and his contributions
to Chapters 15, 16 and 17, and to Eric Gallina and Simon Timm of Car Design
News, for kindly allowing us to reproduce the tutorials for Chapter 13.
We owe a debt to David Downes and Salvador Roig of Magenta Systems for
their generous support and guidance for digital design content and tutorials.
Similarly our thanks to Alias and to Magic Car Pics who managed to pull many
automotive rabbits out of hats under what where crucial time constraints.
TONY LEWIN
RYAN BORROFF
Spring 2010
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Lewin, Tony.
How to design cars like a pro / Tony Lewin, Ryan Borroff.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references.
ISBN 978-0-7603-3695-3 (sb w/ flaps)
1. Automobiles—Design and construction. I. Borroff, Ryan. II. Title.
TL240.L445 2010
629.2’31—dc22
2010013742