Posts Tagged ‘Italia’

Scooterists Forever!

Wednesday, February 10th, 2010

–Lemmy of Motorhead famously referred to them as ‘hairdryers.’ To him and his ilk, they are whining little machines whose performance an attitude are a joke compared to the brawn and substance of the classic piece of English Iron.

Hundreds of thousands, across the gener­a­tions, have disagreed. For them, the modernists among us, the scooter is an iconic mode of trans­port­ation that is both functional and stylish. It’s an enduring opinion. Last year, world wide scooter sales increased by an aston­ishing 41%. In contrast, motorbike sales declined by 7%.

It would seem that once again, the Mods have seen off the rockers.

The scooter is of course heavily associated with the Mods, that fashion obsessed 60s British youth cult that made this machine their official form of trans­port­ation. For the true Modernist, the scooter was perfect. Not only was it stylish and functional, it was foreign, sleek and colourful and it repres­ented the future.

Moreover, its past was just as enticing as its present.

The scooter was born between the two World Wars. In 1919, Italian engin­eering companies turned their attention away from weapons of mass destruction and towards personal trans­port­ation. Within months they were producing early versions of the scooter. Over the years the Autoped became the Skootamota became the Unibus became the Autoglider became the Brockhouse Corgi. In 1947, the scooter arrived.

The man responsible for its classic design was an Italian named Corradino D’Ascanio. His boss, Enrico Piaggio, had surveyed the ruins of post war Italy and quickly realized that the population needed cheap trans­port­ation. His company already produced the MP 5 (nicknamed Paperino, the Italian name for Donald Duck because of its weird design,) but Piaggio had never been convinced of this bike’s qualities.

He challenged D’Ascanio to come up with a better product.

For his part, D’Ascanio hated the motor­cycle. He thought them bulky and unsafe. Worse still the drive chain alone made for an extremely dirty riding exper­ience. To eliminate these problems D’Ascanio put the gear lever on the handlebar, gave the vehicle a body that carried all the stress and created a seat which was far safer than that of the motorcycle.

When Piaggio saw D’Ascanio’s original designs, he exclaimed, ‘Sembra una vespa!’ — It looks like a wasp!

The original Vespa of 1947

The machine had just been bestowed with a name which would become as famous as pasta. Such was the purity and strength of D’Ascanio’s original design, the shape and engin­eering principle of the Vespa has resisted change for nearly fifty years.  Originally of  98cc capacity, it later evolved to 125, 150 and then 200 cc. Piaggio’s first run of the Vespa numbered just one hundred. Very soon, as demand outstripped supply, the company were able to leap into serious mass manufacturing.

Inevitably, they soon had a rival. In 1947, the Innocenti company of Milan unveiled the Lambretta scooter.  Unlike the Vespa, the Lambretta was open framed and did not offer much protection against rogue weather elements. It didn’t seem to matter. By the early 1950s sales of both scooters had rocketed. Although other companies produced their own variations, Vespa and Lambretta led the way. Always have done, always will.

This early ad for Lambretta demonstrates that right from the start the scooter was tapped into the aesthetic of style

In England the first inkling that a revolution was taking place in Italy came through films such as Roman Holiday, starring Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn.  This very famous scene depicted the two stars, merrily scootering around the Italian capital. Soon UK advert­isers of everything from clothing brands to coffee began using the scooter in their posters and commer­cials as a symbol of fun and adventure.

Britain was, of course,  under­going massive changes of its own. After years of post-​​war gloom and austerity, the economy was now starting to heat up and a new liberal sensib­ility was taking hold, partic­u­larly among the younger gener­ation. The global cult of the teenager was born.

Smack bang in the middle of these cultural shifts came the Modernists. Their name was soon abbre­viated to ‘Mods;.  Modernists were born just after the Second World War. To them Britain’s past was a land they had no intention of visiting. Instead, they demanded they own the future — and the exotic, stylish italian scooters would be an integral symbol of that future.

Original mods sought the exotic and modern in all things

In keeping with their anti imper­i­alist instincts, Modernists developed a outward-​​looking worldview that allowed them to look every­where for inspir­ation. They listened American R&B and Post Bop Jazz. They watched Italian neo realist films as much for fashion tips as to get their groove on. And they of course spotted the scooter there too.

By the early 60s a huge demand for the Vespa had developed in the UK. Many Mods used the system of hire purchase to get hold of these expensive machines. In keeping with their desire to customise and make them their own, many Mods also added mirrors to their machines or painted on the names of favourite record labels, singers, bands, lovers, scooter clubs, etc.

But they didn’t just use their scooter to zip round town being fashionable – they also headed out of London to seaside resorts such as Margate or Brighton. Some of these jaunts ended in fights with rockers or the local motorbike gang. These incidents were totally overblown by the nationals but what this press coverage really achieved was to forever associate in many people’s minds the parka clad Mod with the scooter.

This obsession with image amongst the British mods lasted well into the eighties, inspired anew by Franc Roddam’s 1979 film Quadrophenia, (which was based on the album of the same name from iconic Mod band The Who). Quadrophenia inspired a second modernist boom among the youth of Britain  and to this day there are pockets of Scooter loving mods all over Britain and the world.

In Italy, though, a different story was taking place. The emergence of the small Fiat and Mini cars began to challenge the scooter’s dominance. However, the Vespa could resist such devel­op­ments thanks to the huge worldwide orders they had received from America, Japan and of course, Europe.

In 1960 Vespa sales passed the two million mark; in 1970 it reached four million, and by 1988 could boats that they had sold ten million machines. Today, that figure is 16 million units sold.

In the mid 90s, the Britpop musical phenomenon, fronted by bands such as Oasis, brought the scooter back into vogue once more. The day after their historic Knebworth concert Noël and Liam Gallagher were photo­graphed driving round town on their GX scooters, overnight doubling their price. By this time Vespa and Lambretta had been busy redesigning their machines for the 21st century. Many of their designs although safer and more efficient, lacked the style and beauty of the original. There is now a trend towards placing modern day engine within classic scooter frames to achieve the optimum in scootering. One thing is for sure, the appeal of the scooter, much to Lemmy’s disgust, refuses to die.

La Dolce Vita: Italy's 20 Greatest (plus five duds)

Monday, September 14th, 2009

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The great Carlo Abarth with a collection of his creations

There are of course, endless connota­tions of what consti­tutes the super­lative in a car. For example, it’s obvious that if you’ve got to tip-​​toe over a country mile to get to your local Tescos, up hill and down dale dodging lacka­daisical pheasants and strange me in tweed, then your idea of The Best isn’t going to be repres­ented by a Scuderia.

If, however, your aim at any given time is to rise up at 4AM on a Sunday morning and move as dynam­ically and irresponsibly as possible on a public highway, to the soft rising of the late summer sun and the symphony of five hundred wailing cavali, then the Discovery is not going to cut it.

But there’s the rub. When talking about vehicles imagined, designed, built, driven, raced and consumed in Italy, we’re talking about a special kind of vehicle. Italians don’t really do practical. Italians make the kind of vehicle that means more than the workaday, that provides function much closer to racing form as a matter of course than anywhere else in the world.

Lovers of Italian vehicles (and for that matter, Italian design, Italian cooking, Italian art, liter­ature and film – are the sort of people that crave exper­ience and leave practic­ality and sensible-​​ness to the Belgians.

Baring this in mind, we have chosen our favourite 20 Italian cars – and we have chosen the top twenty that fits most into the category of Passion, flair and quickness. And also, there’s a handful of cars, which, for us, don’t live up to the billing . As Enzo Ferrari said “the most beautiful car is the one that wins…”

Mille Miglia: A Fatal Attraction

Monday, September 14th, 2009

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Ben Oliver on the road race that created Italian automotive passion in its own image

You are a driver in the Mille Miglia in the 1950s. You have been racing for fourteen hours now, stopping only to take on fuel and swallow another couple of pills.

It is dark, and you’re climbing through the Apennine mountains towards the Futa and Raticosa passes with over a hundred miles left to the finish line. The road is supposed to be closed, but this is fifties Italy so every hairpin corner brings a bicycle, donkey or badly parked car to deal with.

The tarmac is broken. Your car has three or four hundred horsepower but drum brakes and weak headlights and tyres that squeal but don’t grip. You’re so tired your amphetamine-​​addled mind is seeing things that aren’t there and missing those that are. And in this state you constantly have to make the finest of judge­ments; how hard to push. Back off, and you lose the race. Push too hard and you and your co-​​driver will die. There’s no Armco up here yet; no impreg­nable carbon-​​fibre safety cell in your car or teams of paramedics on every corner. These cars barely have seat belts. Get it wrong and your best hope is a quick death.

The Mille Miglia ran – on and off – for thirty years between 1927 and 1957; a race over a thousand miles on public roads, starting and finishing in Brescia and looping through Rome and Florence. It broke cars and drivers; fewer than half of the hundreds who started each year would finish. It was stagger­ingly dangerous, dangerous enough to be tempor­arily banned in 1939, back when we thought smoking was healthy and were about to enter a world war. But its influence was immense. “In my opinion, the Mille Miglia was an epoch-​​making event,” said Enzo Ferrari. “The Miglia created our cars and the Italian automobile industry.”

Italians could read in their newspapers about the victories of their home-​​grown cars in Grands Prix around the world. But before television, they couldn’t see them. So imagine being an Italian peasant farmer who has exper­i­enced nothing faster than a mule, and sitting on that mule in your field and watching an Italian hero like Varzi or Nuvolari or Taruffi drive an Italian car past you in a furious, deafening red streak, and reading in your newspaper the next day that he had beaten the Germans.

Ferrari is Italy, Italy is Ferrari. And this is where it all began.

When the race restarted after the war Ferraris won eight of the eleven races, before a Ferrari caused the carnage that finally killed it in 1957. Alfonso de Portago was the 28 year-​​old nephew of the King of Spain. His Ferrari suffered a puncture and flipped into the crowd who had gathered to see the cars at their fastest. De Portago, his co-​​driver and ten spectators, many of them children, died. The Mille Miglia was banned for good three days later and the crash grew to assume a morbidly iconic place in Italian culture.

In 1977 the road race was resur­rected as a ‘historic rally’, open to cars that could have competed in the original event. The organ­izers stress that it isn’t a race. Do not believe them. It is insane. It is a convoy of the world’s most valuable, least-​​replaceable classic cars being driven with zero regard to their safety or their occupants’, on open public roads, chased and cut up by modern supercars, and all actively encouraged by the local police – who even compete themselves. It is no less dangerous than the original race, and it is impossible to imagine this happening anywhere other than Italy.

I competed in it in 2008, in a priceless, utterly original Jaguar XK120 known as the ‘Montlhery record car’, in which Sir Stirling Moss set a series of world speed and endurance records in 1951. It’s a privilege to take part in the Mille Miglia, but not actually much fun. You get a couple of hours’ sleep each night and spend all three days in constant fear of wiping out a piece of automotive history and trying to figure out the rules, which the Italians make utterly incom­pre­hensible. Yet every year nearly 2000 of the world’s wealthiest car collectors apply for just 375 places. They’ll all have to stump up a £10,000 entry fee, but that’s just the start. Most pay for support vehicles and mechanics and fly their cars in from around the globe. And they have to buy them in first place. The popularity of the event drives the value of eligible cars through the roof, and many here have paid millions just to be able to drive up the starting ramp.

But as mad as the modern event might be, we’ll never under­stand how it must have been for those who drove in the real thing. Stirling Moss averaged almost 100mph over the entire course in 1955; to do that he had to travel at 170mph at times down unlit, cratered back roads, an almost unthinkable speed even in a modern supercar with half a century’s technical advantage. The old Mille Miglia can’t be replicated. Nothing in modern motor­sport compares to it, and nobody will ever feel the same way at the wheel of a car.

Style Visionaries: Definitive Italian Designers

Monday, September 14th, 2009

Four Italian craftsmen who would define twentieth century automotive style.

Illustrations by Current State

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/​/​The Founding Father: Carlo Castagna//

Castagna started out as an apprentice at the presti­gious Mainetta and Orseniga workshops in Milan, which was one of the main producers of coaches to European Royalty. When the patron of the company retired in in 1849 Castagna took over the company, renaming it C. Castagna & C. Castagna’s promenade carriages (the nineteenth century equivalent of open-​​top sports cars) were osten­ta­tiously appointed, passion­ately conceived and metic­u­lously constructed. Towards the end of the 1800s Ottolini and Ricordi, importers of Benz Quadricycles for Italy, commis­sioned the first motorised carriages from the master. Castagna set the benchmark that all other European carrozeria aspired to, and therefore set the tone for Italian motoring for the entire twentieth century.

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/​/​The Autodidact: Ugo Zagato 1890 – 1968//

Ugo Zagato’s legacy is to have created a distinctive, instantly-​​recognisable aesthetic based on light­weight, aeronautical style bodies. Throughout the twentieth century the ‘Z’ appel­lation gave client cars a sleek, aerody­namic remix of the base design. Designs like the Alfa RL SS Torpedo, through to the 1938 Lancia Aprilia Sport were shot through with the flowing lines of the modernist movement, and later models, like the Aston Vantage Zagato of the mid eighties remain classics of uncom­promised penmanship. Though the Zagato look will never be to everyone’s taste, it remains uncon­ven­tional and classic. Take a look of some of our favourite z-​​cars.

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/​/​The Populist: Giovanni Michelotti 1921 – 1980//

Michelotti Began his career as an apprentice at the Farina works in the mid-​​30s and in the 50s became business partner with Alfredo Vignale. In the 50s and 60s he was one of the most prolific Italian designers – having as many as thirty cars on display on various different stands at the Turin Motor Show of 1960. Whilst working for Vignale he designed the BMW 700 and 1500 Coupés which raised his and BMWs profile greatly – and Michelotti’s innov­ation and foresight meant that he was the first western car designer to be hired by a Japanese company (he designed a car for the Contessa for the Hino company in 1959). He also worked extens­ively for Triumph, creating the partic­u­larly successful ‘2000’ series and devel­op­ments like the Triumph Stag. Michelotti may not have had Gandini’s flair for the jaw-​​dropping stylistic flourish, but was more responsible for dissem­in­ating the Milanese aesthetic than any other Italian designer of the century.

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/​/​The Genius: Marcello Gandini 1938-//

There was obviously something in the water in Turin during the summer of 1938. Gandini was Born on August 26, just nineteen days after his legendary collab­orator and rival Giorgetto Giugiario. Both pensmen would come to represent the apotheosis of twentieth century car design. When Giugiario left carozzeria Bertone in 1965 Gandini was offered his job. Controversy still rages as to which of the pair was ultimately responsible for the epoch-​​making Lamborghini Miura of 1968, but Gandini’s early, bold statement was the intro­duction of the scissor door on the Alfa 33 Carabo concept, which was first shown at the Paris Motor Show at the time of the Miura launch. This, of course was one of the most distinctive elements of the Lamborghini Countach, Gandini’s outrageous masterpiece.

Homage to Zagato

Monday, September 14th, 2009

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Though Zagato is one of the most contro­versial automotive styling houses of the twentieth century, we think you will enjoy some of the most inter­esting and beautiful of the carrozerria’s creations.

An Italian Obsession in The Garden of England

Monday, September 14th, 2009

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“People just like 500s. We drove down to Italy for the 500’s anniversary _​ everyone was smiling and waving”

What is it that makes Italian cars so special? Liz Seabrook asked the question at the Italian Car Picnic at Honnington Gardens.

1 John Day: 2002 Alfa Romeo 156 GTA V6
“I like Italian cars because they keep you on the edge…there’s always the risk that they might breakdown.”David Muriel and his 1969 Alfa Romeo 1300 GT Junior Zagato

Italian cars have soul…But the Zagato is not the car for an old man with a bad back.”

2 John Jenkins and his 1972 Fiat 500
“I like the fact that Italian designers break the rules, like Alfa Romeo choosing to put the regis­tration plate to the left and not central.”

3 Ignazio Maniscalchi: Lamborghini Diablo (kit car)
“I’m from Sicily, I’m not patriotic but everything Italian is beautiful.”

4 Giovanni: 1972 Alpha Romeo Bertone 2000 GTB (aka Giulia coupe) 105 model
“My favourite Italian cars are reliable ones; the problematic ones were sold to my customers.”

5 Stuart Palmer & son and their 1969 Alfa Romeo Spider Veloce
“My wife had a Fiat uno as her first car, she used to pick me up, but there was nowhere to sit because the dogs had eaten the seats!”

6 Simon Lavis and his 1986 Ferrari 412
“The 412 is a nice comfortable car. En route to a car event everyone falls asleep until other Ferraris drive past and beep their horns!”