1972/73: Lamborghini Retires
The sparkling success of the sixties was followed by the crisis of the
seventies, triggered by a slack economic situation, strikes and intensified
regulations on the U.S. market. A big tractor transaction that had been
agreed with the Bolivian government failed at the last moment in 1972. To
support his agricultural machinery company, Ferruccio Lamborghini sold 51
per cent of the shares in the motorcar company to the Swiss national
Georges Henri Rossetti. One year later he sold off the remaining 49 per cent
to René Leimer, a colleague of Rossetti. At roughly the same time he lost
confidence in the tractor business and sold it to the competing Italian Same
group, which continues to manage it up to the present day under the old
brand name.
Lamborghini kept only the heating segment as well as another newly formed
company by the name of Oleodinamica, which produced hydraulic valves;
he appointed his son Tonino as the manager of this company. The patriarch
retired to a 32 hectare estate by the name of La Fiorita, which he had
purchased in 1971. He led the life of a prosperous winegrower in
Panicarola/Umbria near to the Trasimenic Lake and set up a small private
museum.
Feruccio Lamborghini, who all his life had always felt best in shirt sleeves,
returned to his roots. He planted the traditional grape types Sangiovese,
Gamay, Ciliegiolo, Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. His red wine came onto
the market with the name “Colli di Trasimeno”, however, quickly acquired
the colloquial name “Sangue Di Miura”, Miura blood. Lamborghini’s wines
have received many awards. They are well established in the international
high-end segment due to their exceptional quality.
Ferruccio Lamborghini, who was awarded the title “Commendatore” and
knighted “Cavaliere Del lavoro” (knight of work), died of a heart attack on
20th February 1993. He was buried in his hometown Renazzo.
The Companies History
To understand a Lamborghini, you must understand the land that generated
it. You need to think of a tree and examine its roots. And in this case, they
are firmly embedded in the land that, more than any other place in the
world, has an instinctive love for high-class, spirited engines. This is a
stretch of the Po valley that is shaped like the perfect ‘golden triangle’,
touching Sant’Agata, Modena and Maranello, and it is where the finest cars
in the world are made. It’s a matter of blood, experience and sensitivity, or
perhaps it’s pure and simple passion. It is no accident that revolutionary
concepts in style and form were spawned here, and they are concepts that
elsewhere, even within enormous companies, were never even imagined.
Everything stems from the hot-blooded nature of these people, from this
grassy, fertile terrain and the long secondary roads that cut through
farmland. In the silence of hot summer days, these engines rend the air of
the lower Po valley like sirens, and everyone turns around to see what’s
passing through. These roads, these long, straight secondary roads that
shoot like arrows across the Emilia plains, are what have formed the DNA of
these formidable engines. For these cars seem to have been crafted simply
to entice you to floor the accelerator and delight in the sound of the
loveliest, most musical twelve cylinders in the world: the ones from
Sant’Agata Bolognese.
The Lamborghini Museum is a natural expression of this love. Established
by the new owners of this glorious make, the German Audi Group, it was
built in a matter of months. It is distinguished by a daring architectural
design that nevertheless respects the building that houses the museum, the
historic first block where the great adventure of the bold little automotive
company began.
The itinerary that winds its way through the two floors of this museum fully
illustrates the complex, sometimes intricate and often extraordinary story of
Lamborghini. All the main models are here, neatly lined up and in perfect
condition. Above all, this is a very rich and modern museum. When you
consider the number of models produced at Sant’Agata and the number of
cars exhibited in the museum, it dawns on you that this is truly one of the
most representative and complete factory museums in the world. All the
cars that have made Lamborghini great are here, either permanently or on a
rotating basis, but there are also many other important aspects, alongside a
large number of the secondary or lesser-known ones. Everything that is
significant to the devotees of the ‘Lamborghini world’ is exquisitely
represented here. The passion that inspired those who set up the museum
is meaningfully reflected by the number of illustrative panels, photographs,
engines, small-scale models and even historic shop equipment. Directly or
indirectly, all of this testifies to the long path that Lamborghini has travelled
in these forty difficult, glorious years.
The history of ‘Lamborghini Automobili’ officially starts in 1963.
Nevertheless, we must consider the far-off roots of this event, and they are
the roots of Ferruccio Lamborghini. Born in 1916, this capable, impetuous,
strong-willed Taurus was the leading character in the foundation of the
company and the early phases of its extraordinary history.
By the time he decided to build a factory of luxury sports cars, Ferruccio
was already a very wealthy man. In the period following World War II, he
founded his tractor factory, which he launched with energy and
determination, creating a major point of reference in this industry. Other
businesses followed, and he amassed his fortune at the perfect time, before
his fiftieth birthday. By the early Sixties, Lamborghini was a powerful and
successful man who knew exactly what he wanted, but when he said he
would build a super sports car to compete with Ferrari, many people thought
he was mad. Constructing that kind of car was viewed as an unexplainable
extravagance, a hazardous leap in the dark, and something that would
squander his fortune without ever turning a profit.
In reality, Lamborghini had already done his homework and, as usual, he
had done it quite well. He had taken apart his own prestigious cars and
discovered that some of the spare parts on these cars were exactly the
same ones he used for his tractors, except for the fact that when they were
mounted on those cars they tripled in price. The manufacturer’s mark-up
was obviously enormous. While Ferruccio – the man – was stubborn
enough to argue with Ferrari, Lamborghini – the industrialist – was already
pondering these enormous profit margins and what could be earned with this
business, aside from pure and simple prestige.
He started working on this project in late 1962, and by May 1963 he had
already founded ‘Automobili Ferruccio Lamborghini’, buying a large plot of
land in Sant’Agata Bolognese, about 25 kilometres from Bologna, to build a
new large and ultramodern factory. Because of the experience he had
gained with his other companies, he was in a position to set up the best
facilities for his purpose: a very functional structure that, at the time, was
unrivalled in its field. The enormous and well-lit central building was adjacent
to the office building, so that the management could constantly monitor the
production situation. This was ideal for Lamborghini, who would often roll up
his shirtsleeves and go to work on the cars personally when he saw
something that wasn’t done just the way he wanted.
The first model was naturally put out quickly, given that Lamborghini had
only a few months between the time he decided to build the factory and the
date set for its official presentation. The event that was chosen for this was
the era’s traditional rendezvous, the Turin Auto Show scheduled for the
beginning of November 1963. Since Lamborghini had a very clear idea of
what he wanted, he didn’t waste any time looking for the right people. For
the engine, which had to be the best V12 made in the area – and thus in the
world – he immediately turned to Giotto Bizzarrini, who had designed some
of Ferrari’s most recent engines. For the rest of the car and to start up
production, he hired two promising young engineers, Giampaolo Dallara and
Giampaolo Stanzani. Their combined age was barely fifty at the time, but
they were talented and enthusiastic, and they had a natural instinct when it
came to thoroughbred cars. They needed it, because their boss was a man
who was almost brutally honest, and from the very start he clearly detailed
exactly what he expected from his new car. In a 1963 statement given to
Italian journalist Athos Evangelisti, he observed: “… in the past, I bought
some of the most famous Gran Turismo cars, and found several flaws. Too
hot, not very comfortable or not fast enough, or not finished to perfection.
Now I want to make a flawless GT. Not a technical marvel. A very normal,
very conventional but perfect car.”
This was a considerable endeavour and time was short. Nevertheless, when
the 350 GTV was presented it was already a masterpiece. It responded
perfectly to what the company founder had declared, at least as far as the
mechanical side was concerned. From a practical standpoint, however, the
body by Franco Scaglione, a widely admired designer who had also worked
for Carrozzeria Bertone, was not as well conceived. The line was indubitably
dramatic, but it was more worthy of a Batmobile than a GT, flaunting an
incredible pointed snout, enormous glassarea, the very long rear window,
which was one of the trademarks of this designer but that illogically reduced
the opening of the boot, and an overall surface treatment and detailing more
appropriate for a show prototype than a car to be put into production. On the
testbench, however, the 3.5-litre engine proved it could easily put out 360
hp, with a roar worthy of the top racing V12. The independent suspensions
of the GTV were an innovation for the GTs of the era, and all the
components, from the gearbox to the brakes, were selected from outside
suppliers with the sole intention of obtaining the very best on the market.
The debut of the Lamborghini in a narrow but fiercely competitive market –
shared until then by Ferrari, Maserati, Aston Martin, Jaguar and just a
handful of others – certainly created a stir. Sceptics seriously doubted
Lamborghini’s ability to go ahead with this project without any specific
experience in this difficult field. But those who knew him well simply
commented: wait and see, because Lamborghini knows what he’s doing.
In retrospect, 1964 was an extraordinary year. As soon as he realised that
the body designed by Scaglione had been received rather coldly,
Lamborghini’s first move was to have the design redone completely to make
it more attractive to the public, and he thus turned to the famous
Milan-based Carrozzeria Touring. The changes that Felice Bianchi Anderloni
made to the original design created a line that became a classic: original
but without being extreme. The 350 GT was born, and the Lamborghini
Museum has an absolutely perfect specimen on exhibit.
This speedy two-seater Berlinetta had everything it took to attract
customers, although sales were naturally rather modest at first. Not
everyone was bold enough to abandon the better-known established makes
like Ferrari and Maserati to hand a substantial sum of money over to a
constructor who, until then, had been famous only for his excellent tractors.
Word had to get around, a few of the models had to be seen in circulation,
and Lamborghini, the tireless promoter of his own company, did not hesitate
to go about with his creation to show it off to the world. Several journalists
immediately understood its worth and readily expressed their enthusiasm
about the new car. In the July 1965 issue of “Car”, Henry Manney III, one of
the leading American journalists, stated in no uncertain terms that “this car
will be a headache for Ferrari and that the Lamborghini is the most desirable
sports car I’ve ever driven”. This was a considerable compliment,
considering that Manney, who wrote for a number of prestigious American
and English periodicals at the time, was a Ferrari customer himself and
owned a 250 GTO. The immediate and almost inevitable offshoot of the 350
GT, of which 135 were built, was the 400 GT. Its engine was increased to a
four-litre model and it featured the first gearbox designed in-house by
Lamborghini. Based initially on the two-seater body, which was later
developed into the 400 GT 2+2 with two occasional seats behind the two
regular ones, the 400 GT reached the respectable overall production figure of
273 units.
Thus, by early 1965 the coupes from Sant’Agata were starting to be
noticed. Moreover, several aficionados also began to realise that under the
rather extravagant chassis, which broke from the classic standards of
famous coachwork companies, there was outstanding mechanical quality:
in short, this was a fast car that also offered comfort on long trips. Sales
gradually started to increase, although these figures were obviously small,
given the elite target.
This was the first, great phase of the Lamborghini company, and one of its
most prolific and creative periods. Between October 1965 and June 1966,
the company presented an astonishing number of new models. Although
cars like the 3500 GTZ (with a Zagato body), 350 Spyder by Touring and the
Monza 400 by Neri and Bonacini were essentially prototypes, the seemingly
extravagant chassis presented at the Lamborghini stand during the 1965
Turin Auto Show was destined to have a profound impact on the history of
the company and on the entire automotive industry.
The design of this chassis can be traced to the enormous enthusiasm of the
two young engineers hired by Ferruccio to head the technical department of
his factory. Both Dallara and Stanzani were young, passionate and
enthusiastic. The trust that Lamborghini placed in them by putting them at
the head of this new and extraordinary operation quickly spawned new and
more advanced ideas in the minds of the two engineers. These ideas were
based on the state of the art in race cars during this period, namely the
two-seater sports car, a concept that was well represented by an
automobile that would also become a legend: the Ford GT40. This car had
completely broken with the tradition of the Fifties, represented by Jaguar,
Maserati, Ferrari and Aston Martin, with their big engines mounted in front of
the car in a tubular chassis finished with a lightweight aluminium body. All
this was revolutionised by the arrival of cars with a mid-rear engine,
assembled on a chassis made of bent and welded sheet metal. This
achieved excellent weight distribution, outstanding structural rigidity, and
the possibility of highly sophisticated integrations between the various
chassis components and the mechanical parts.
This was indeed the concept of the two young engineers from Bologna: to
put a barely tamed version of a full-fledged race car on the road, rather than
a reinterpretation of the classic traditional GT. Their project, provisional zly
codenamed 400 TP, thus had the 4-litre 12-cylinder engine of the 400 GT
transversely mounted behind the cockpit, with the gearbox and the
differential united to the engine base in a single casting. The chassis was
made of bent, welded sheet metal that was drilled to make it more
lightweight. Unfortunately, at the beginning of 1965 all this seemed to be
little more than a project, without any hope for practical application.
Lamborghini himself had continuously repeated and emphasised that he
was not interested in futuristic or extravagant projects: he simply wanted to
make a normal, ultra-fast and flawless car. His engineers instead found the
courage to propose a car that, at least in appearance, went in the opposite
direction. It was potentially a very fast car, but by the same token it was
bound to be a noisy one – one that had to be tested and would almost
certainly not be fault-free – and yet it was an exciting and ultra-modern car.
As the story goes, when Lamborghini saw the project he approved it
immediately, probably shocking the two very surprised designers, who
certainly didn’t dare hope for such a happy ending to their proposal. For
once, however, Lamborghini was wrong in his forecast: he declared that a
car like that should be built because it would be good advertising for the
make, even though it would clearly never sell more than fifty worldwide.
Every so often, even the best make mistakes.
The chassis was completed rather quickly, and it was exhibited at the Turin
Auto Show in October 1965. As was always the case with Lamborghini
items during that period, it was viewed with a mixture of curiosity, interest,
incredulity and, in some cases, even outright diffidence. Many reiterated
that, once again, Lamborghini had indeed put normal cars into production,
but that chassis! The mechanics! No: that odd-looking chassis drilled like
an aeroplane, with that engine set behind the cockpit, would never, ever go
into production.
One person who believed in that chassis, and above all in Lamborghini’s
capabilities, was Nuccio Bertone. The Turin-based coach-builder was an
expert on cars and engines, and as soon as he saw the chassis he
approached Lamborghini and said, “I’m the one who can make the shoe to
fit your foot”. The two shook hands, and this marked the beginning of an
extraordinary adventure. The head of Bertone’s design department,
Giorgetto Giugiaro, had just left the company to establish his own firm, Ital
Design, and his position had been filled by a young designer the age of
Dallara and Stanzani, Marcello Gandini. Thus, it was up to Gandini to
interpret Bertone’s ideas, creating a unique and sensational body for the
Bologna-built chassis, something that – in its blend of aggressiveness,
elegance, originality and class – was to prove unrepeatable: the Miura was
born.
No one actually knows why it was given this name. Above all, Ferruccio
never wanted to disclose why he came up with the analogy to this breed of
extraordinary and powerful bulls, a Spanish bullfighting legend. For someone
like him, a man who was born under the sign of Taurus and had used this
symbol for the proud logo of all his industrial activities, naming one of his
cars after a fighting bull must have come naturally. If anything, what is
surprising is the fact that, in choosing the first name for his first car that
would have enormous international impact, he instinctively chose the best
and most appropriate name.
According to experts, Miura bulls are by no means ordinary animals. They
are the strongest of all fighting bulls but, above all, they are the most
intelligent and fiercest ones, in the military sense of the word. In their
books, bullfighters often talk about the unmistakable gaze of the Miura bull:
the gaze of a true fighter, shrewd and powerful. The name was particularly
apt and, with just five letters, it was also very immediate. However,
Lamborghini had never met Don Antonio Miura, and this heightened the
mystery surrounding the choice of this name. Be that as it may, Miura
himself, who initially voiced his disapproval over the use of this name for an
Italian car without his permission, was later very pleased about the choice,
hosting Lamborghini a number of times at his magnificent ranch near
Seville.
Work to ready the Miura immediately proceeded at a feverish pace. Gandini
later recounted that from October to February, everyone worked around the
clock, seven days a week, like madmen. A major event was coming up and
no one wanted to miss the opportunity to present this new model: the 1966
Geneva Motor Show. In this case, the enormous and inevitable problems
involved in constructing any prototype were magnified by the fact that the
car then had to go into production immediately. Therefore, any solutions
that could not be applied immediately for the road model had to be
abandoned. It was a colossal struggle and yet, because of that juncture of
positive energy that blesses men’s work every so often and elevates it to a
level far above everyday routine, everything fell into place. The line of the
Miura came out perfectly from the very outset, the prototype was assembled
virtually without any problems, the testing pointed to the need for just a few
minor changes. And therein lay the miracle: that the chassis presented as a
completely experimental prototype in the autumn of 1965 had become the
most stunning road car in the world – in just four months.
The Miura reigned supreme at the Motor Show in Geneva. Fewer and fewer
claimed that such an advanced car would never go into production, and they
had to veil their scepticism, muttering under their breath, because everyone
who saw the Miura was simply ecstatic. The orders started to flood into the
offices of Ferruccio and his sales director, Ubaldo Sgarzi. Enthusiasm was
sky-high and, in a sensational coup, Lamborghini managed to raise it even
higher by bringing the Miura to the Monte Carlo Grand Prix, the most
exciting weekend for sports cars in general and for top-level Italian ones in
particular. The orange Miura he parked in front of the Hotel de Paris that
Saturday afternoon attracted so many oglers that they completely jammed
the square in front the Casino, arousing even more enthusiasm, interest and
orders. It was, quite simply, a runaway success.
In October 1967, just three years after its hesitant debut in Turin,
Lamborghini arrived at the Italian Auto Show with an extraordinary line-up.
By this time, the range of cars was truly impressive. Officially, the 350 GT
was still available, but it was actually out of production by this time. The
golden duo of the 400 GT 2+2 coupe and the Miura galvanised experts,
attracting them to the stand of the young Bologna company that, overnight,
had become the darling of all car magazines. The prestigious Touring
coachwork firm also presented one of its creations at this show, but this
was its swansong: the original Flying Star II, based on the front-engined
chassis of the 400 GT, was the company’s last car before it went bankrupt.
Thus, one of the most prestigious Italian firms disappeared and a part of its
extraordinary historic heritage was lost, at least in part.
The year was 1967, and Lamborghini could now look towards the future far
more optimistically. The flood of orders for the Miura pumped new cash into
his company, but above all it generated unparalleled interest and publicity.
At least in this, Lamborghini had been right on target: a model like this was
destined to overwhelm the minds and souls of all car buffs. Lamborghini
thus became a symbolic name in the auto world, the emblem of excess, of
going ‘further’ at all costs, of always doing more and better than any rival
without preconceptions or conventional limitations. This configuration did not
prevent numerous aficionados from buying and appreciating the 400 GT, a
serious and mature model by this time, but the Miura gave the company
unique prestige.
Once again, the year opened with an extraordinary appearance, and this
time the theme – the brainchild of Bertone and Gandini – was an amazing
four-seater with a rear engine mounted transversally behind the axle and
sensational gullwing doors. The concept of vertically opening doors
appeared for the very first time on this exotic vehicle dubbed the Marzal, and
in the future this would gradually become the distinctive feature of the
top-range Lamborghinis.
The Marzal was not destined for production. In order to stay within the
predefined dimensions, its mechanical features differed from the high-power
and ultra-sophisticated kind to which Lamborghini had already accustomed
its clients. Mounted behind the rear axle was an engine that was just half
the size of the company’s classic V12. It thus had a 2-litre straight-six
cylinder engine with a power rating of about 180 hp – clearly not up to the
performance expectations for a car bearing this logo. This did not keep the
Marzal from becoming the star of many auto shows and being celebrated on
the covers of international magazines. And it was even chosen by Prince
Rainier of Monaco, with Princess Grace at his side, to open the Monte
Carlo Grand Prix that year. Once again, Ferruccio Lamborghini’s flair for
publicity proved to be exceptional.
After all this uproar, however, it was time to get to work and reap the fruits of
these image-making coups. The year 1967 was also one marked by the
beginning of real production of the Miura, sacrifices and the tough
commitment to transform this brilliant concept into a real automobile. Not
surprisingly, these first specimens showed their teething troubles. It took a
number of modifications to turn the first Miura into a satisfactory car,
although the customers themselves were unconcerned. This remarkable car
immediately became a symbol of wealth, first and foremost. Very expensive
cars – like today’s Murciélago but requiring far more maintenance and
attention. And then it was also an expression of youth, or at least of a truly
young spirit: the Miura was very low, so that getting in and out of it
essentially required the agility of a gymnast, and only an all-out sports car
enthusiast would willing undergo a workout like this.
Above all, however, it was the most fashionable car of its day, essentially
equivalent to the Mini, albeit at the other end of the price scale. It was a car
that the very wealthy simply had to have, because it was a symbol, for it
was a car that – like no other – expressed the audacity, gusto for living and
freedom to travel that characterised the era. The motorways that had just
been constructed were perfect: straight, empty and without any speed
limits. The Miura could clock 280 km/hour, an amazing speed in a country
like Italy that was still populated by a handful of cars such as the Fiat 500
and 600 and, for wealthier car owners, the 1100 and the Giulietta. These
were the years the miniskirt burst onto the fashion scene, expressing a new
joie de vivre. The explosive and carnal personality of the Miura perfectly
reflected this revolution in how people dressed and thought, and like its bold
colours – ultra-modern, absolutely new and matchless – it became part of
an era. An orange or acid-green Miura darting through the sparse
grey-coloured traffic of the era was akin to a shark in a goldfish tank: it
made any other car invisible. Almost inevitably, overnight it became the
favourite among playboys, film stars, industrialists, musicians and royalty
around the world: anyone who really counted drove a Miura, or at least had
one on order. The Shah of Persia, Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin were just
a few of the loyal customers who bought this car, and Lamborghini became
a familiar name to them.
While Dallara and Stanzani worked with the help of New Zealand test driver
Bob Wallace to improve the car in production, Ferruccio – ever full of ideas –
was pushing to show the world new models. It was not simply a matter of
vanity: the presentation of the Miura Roadster at the Brussels Car Show in
1968 also helped test customer reactions to the possibility of introducing a
convertible to the range. Despite the professed enthusiasm, however, this
model received relatively few orders and as a result, it remained in the
glorious stage of the show prototype without any production follow-up. More
importantly, however, the Jslero was introduced in March of the same year.
Officially presented to the press on 16 February 1968, at 6,450,000 lire it
had a rather steep price tag. Nevertheless, its 300-hp engine made it an
automobile that was worthy of its prestigious name, with an increasingly
comfortable and well-finished interior. This was the GT that Lamborghini had
dreamed of, the natural successor to the 400 GT that had gone out of
production after the Touring coachwork company closed. Constructed by
men who had also worked for Touring, like Mario Marazzi, the Jslero was an
impressive-looking, elegant 2+2 coupe featuring the same mechanics as the
400 it was replacing. However, Lamborghini’s clientele had become
accustomed to the stylistic touches of the Miura and as a result, Jslero
sales were somewhat modest.
Instead, a far different kind of success was in store for the other important
novelty presented at the Lamborghini stand at the Geneva Motor Show that
year. The Espada, remotely derived from the Marzal line, was an
extraordinary two-door model with a front-mounted engine and four very
comfortable seats. Featuring a 2650 mm wheelbase, it flaunted an utterly
original and truly innovative style. It marked the fullest expression of what
was probably Marcello Gandini’s most successful period in terms of
creativity. The Espada was nothing short of revolutionary and it was
completely new and original, from the balance of the two main volumes to
the large rear window, which was actually the hatch of the boot, and on to
the large flat bonnet that opened up as a single unit, the low and tapered
waistline, the rear wheel housing that partially covered the wheels and the
NACA ducts on the bonnet. Once again, countless orders were placed,
because the Lamborghini name was now firmly established and the concept
of the Espada was decidedly convincing.
This time, however, Ferruccio seemed to have bitten off more than he could
chew. The in-house technical team and the company’s suppliers, workers
and employees could barely keep up with this explosion of activity, for
which everything virtually had to be made from scratch. Until the Miura
phenomenon exploded in the first half of 1966, the firm was working as any
as hard engineering company in the area. Subsequently, however, the
company had to work at a dizzying pace and everyone had to double their
efforts, while also dividing their attention among several models. This
inevitably triggered a series of problems that was reflected in the longer time
it took to produce these cars and in the growing impatience of customers,
who – now that they had seen the future of sports cars – did not want to
wait too long for the Lamborghini they had ordered.
The bottleneck created by the transformation of prototypes into road cars
undoubtedly represented the main obstacle to the company’s financial
success. In 1968, Lamborghini managed to deliver a total of 37 Espadas
and 187 Miuras, plus a few Jsleros – and that was it. Certainly not much to
back the financial efforts of the company founder, who was nevertheless
quite confident, and rightly so: in less than five years, the automotive
company he had founded was already a legend.
Despite the logistical and organisational problems of the period, no one
could stand idle. The production lines of the three models (Jslero, Espada
and Miura) had barely been started up in 1969 when improvements began to
be considered. The most important operation undoubtedly involved approving
an entire series of modifications, which were effectively required for the
Miura, and incorporating them into a single new version. The outcome was
the S version, created in November 1968. Its presentation was naturally a
must at the Turin Auto Show that year, and the new Miura offered
customers a 370-hp engine, i.e. 20 more than the previous version. It also
featured electric windows, the whole interior was more luxurious by finished
and options included air conditioning (an innovation bordering on the
extravagant, at least in Europe) and natural leather upholstery. Only the
chrome finish on a few minor exterior parts and a small metal S shaped like
a lightning bolt, mounted on the tail panel of the car, distinguished the new
version of the Miura from the old one, which therefore ended its career.
But Miura S wasn’t the only Lamborghini novelty. Ferruccio had never
concealed his admiration for the comfort offered by Citroën cars. As a
result, on the Espada he offered an option that was unheard of at the time,
namely a hydropneumatic suspension system, inspired by the one made by
the French automaker, named Lancomatic. This was indubitably a bold
initiative, because it strived to offer a truly superior level of comfort for the
company’s four-seater. Naturally, this option was destined to have very little
success, as was the case with the automatic transmission, which was also
offered as an option on this car. Nevertheless, this detail underscores the
quest for excellence underlying the research done on the various models.
The Jslero was subsequently elaborated, boosted in terms of power and
refinished, and as a result, the GTS version was brought out on 31 May
1969. Despite its performance features, the 350-hp engine, the car’s overall
comfort and its alluring lines, the Jslero was overshadowed by the Espada
and, above all, by the Miura, and it was too close to them in price not to
suffer because of this.
The year 1970 was marked by the temporary stabilisation of the
Lamborghini model range. The Jslero thus left the stage quietly, though only
a relatively small number had been produced (225 between Jslero and Jslero
GTS version). What remained were the Miura S and the Espada, restyled
and updated in a Series II that was presented at the 1970 Brussels Motor
Show, and their production gradually increased. This new series was much
improved, was fitted with the 350-hp engine, more powerful ventilated brakes
and a more conventional dashboard. It was a glorious year for this model,
which represented an ideal winning post not only for the company but also
for Ferruccio and the objectives he had set for himself at the start of this
adventure. In 1970 alone, 228 Espadas were sold, an outstanding figure for
such an expensive and important car.
However, not everything turns out as it should. Lamborghini insisted that it
was essential to complement the four-seat Espada and the two-seat Miura
with an ‘in-between’ model, a 2+2 that would represent the finest in the
arena of the Italian Gran Turismo. Bertone responded with a model that was
essentially the stylistic evolution of the Jslero, taking up many elements
from the Espada and thus – theoretically – a model that would incarnate its
ideals. This was the Jarama. Despite its chic launch at the 1970 Geneva
Motor Show, however, it failed to make the right impression on car buffs. It
was a powerful, distinctive and well-finished car, but perhaps it lacked that
touch of daring, the spectacular lines of a true masterprice. In a certain
sense, the Jarama was the perfect child of the Seventies: a bit angular with
a straight and clear-cut roof panel, it gave the overall impression of a certain
lack of balance between the front and rear forms. The influence of some of
Pininfarina’s projects is evident nonetheless, particularly in the tail, giving
the car an air of overall elegance. Like the Jslero, though, it did not achieve
the hoped-for success. By this time, around the world Lamborghini was
considered the symbol of excess, of something that went beyond the
philosophy and designs of other automotive companies. When it built
reasonable, rational cars that were almost normal, it did not respond to
these criteria and thus did not achieve the expected success.
The other great project that announced and presented in 1970 was another
Lamborghini, but a radically new and ‘different’ one. It was the P250 Urraco
once again, the name of a fighting bull, once again, a transverse-mounted
rear engine, once again an extremely sporty line with a powerful visual
impact. This time, however, the target was a broader market and a vaster
clientele. In fact, the Urraco featured a 2.5-litre engine specially designed by
Stanzani, with single overhead camshaft distribution. It was built to criteria
that would permit large-scale production (by Italian sports car standards), it
had a lovely line designed by Bertone, and – at least on paper – it offered
excellent performance at a much lower price than the Miura.
To make this car, Lamborghini expanded the Sant’Agata factory,
constructing a spacious new building behind the one already being used,
thus adding nearly 500 square metres of new factory space. The basic
assumptions couldn’t have been better: the car, presented on time at the
Turin Auto Show in October 1970, aroused enormous excitement and the
orders poured in. As was the case with the Miura, the public was highly
enthusiastic over the new Lamborghini and this time, there was no
perplexity over a somewhat obscure make or an overly high price that would
discourage potential buyers. Sales immediately went well.
In the meantime, luck continued to smile on the Miura. The clear
improvement in its overall quality, which came about with the S version,
bolstered its market position. While Lamborghini continued to produce as
fast as possible, it simply couldn’t keep up with the orders – in the
hundreds – received from around the world. The prototype of the open Miura,
the Roadster, was sold to an American company specialising in zinc
(ILZRO), and parts made of zinc replaced all the components deemed
suitable for this treatment. As a result, the ILZRO Roadster could be used
as a travelling ad for this company. Incidentally, this car still exists.
However, the year 1970 also brought in several innovations that could easily
be considered minor and yet were very important. In October, a special VIP
version of the Espada was presented, with a range of luxury finishes that
were unusual for the period, such as air conditioning, a bar and a television.
For the history of Lamborghini and for its devotees, the creation of a racing
Miura marked a very important moment, and this came about mainly
through the commitment of New Zealand test driver Bob Wallace: the Jota.
For once, the name of this car did not come from the world of bullfighting,
but it had a Spanish flavour nonetheless, since the Jota is a typical dance in
that country. The name change was highly significant: in fact, Wallace’s
work was not merely cosmetic, as was the case with many other designers.
He instead created a race car that borrowed only the mechanical
configuration from the Miura, particularly the engine transversely mounted in
the mid-rear position, and the general lines of the body. Instead, the chassis
was completely new, made of tubular elements and bent metal sheets,
which were welded and glued for improved rigidity. The body was made of
aluminium, the entire chassis had been significantly improved, and the
engine power, substantially increased, could crank out 440 hp at 8500 rpm.
The car, thus modified and lightened to weigh just 890 kilograms offered
outstanding performance, with acceleration from zero to 100 km/hour in just
3.6 seconds! Moreover, its road holding was improved by stiffening the
chassis, using racing type suspensions, widening the wheelbase and fitting
racing tyres on special Campagnolo wheels. Externally, the Jota could be
recognised immediately because of its streamlined headlamps under
Plexiglas covers, the broader wheel housings, particularly the rear ones, the
elimination of the grilles on the front hood, the small sliding side windows
and the distinctive magnesium alloy wheels. It was an unmistakable,
ultra-fast and brutal car, the ideal prelude to Lamborghini’s entry to the world
of racing. Unfortunately, the Jota had no follow-up. Once its experimental
factory use was over, the only specimen that was built was sold to a dealer
in northern Italy, who in a matter of hours managed to demolish it in a
spectacular crash. Thus, one of the most exciting elements from the early
years of Lamborghini’s history was lost forever.
In 1971, Lamborghini was at the peak of its success. In less than eight
years, Ferruccio had accomplished his goal: from nothing, he had created a
car factory that was not only famous around the world, but had also become
nothing short of a legend. His cars, and particularly the Miura, had achieved
such enormous status that they had outshone all their most famous rivals,
first and foremost the ones from Maranello – and without investing a penny
in racing. Lamborghini didn’t believe that racing helped improve sports cars
or increase sales, and so far the facts had certainly proven him right.
Nevertheless, the Bologna entrepreneur, who in the meantime inaugurated
other industrial activities in the sectors of hydraulics and other components,
was not one to rest on his laurels. He continued to spur on his technical
staff, who – truth be told – needed no encouragement, in order to introduce
a complete range of modifications for the Miura (in part derived from the
carmaker’s experience with the Jota), thus creating the definitive and
absolute version of this legendary model: the SV, presented at the Geneva
Motor Show in 1971. Lower and broader, with wider tyres and an engine
tuned up to 385 hp, the SV was as fast as it was beautiful. The use of
heavier gauge sheet metal for the chassis – which was thus sturdier – the
fine-tuned suspensions, and the long-awaited separation of the engine oil
and the gearbox lubricant, made this version the most successful, fastest
and best-performing car of the entire series.
Despite this successful evolution, the SV exhibited at the 1971 Geneva
Show virtually went unnoticed, and very few credited it with the importance
that, over the years, this nearly perfect version of Lamborghini’s supercar
would acquire. The reason was quite simple: everyone was distracted by an
even more spectacular and extraordinary car that proved to be the true star,
not only at the Lamborghini stand but throughout the entire show. It was a
car created through a stroke of combined genius by Lamborghini and
Bertone, which the company’s trusty deputies Stanzani and Gandini
brought to life in record time, as usual. This utterly spectacular model was
the LP 500, better known as the ‘Countach’.
This was a truly revolutionary car, starting with its line, which was the first
thing that left all those who saw it at that Motor Show speechless with
admiration. Its sleek and aggressive snout, the flat windscreen connected
seamlessly to the front bonnet on one end and the roof on the other, the roof
that – in turn – continued over the engine hood, forming a single gradual
curve that went from the front fenders to the tail panel of the body. This
marked an innovative, astonishing and completely new stylistic concept.
Once again, Lamborghini upset preconceived notions. It went against
everything that had been done until then, proceeding along its own course
that was completely removed from what others were doing. Indeed, others
found themselves breathlessly following the little Bologna company, yet at
the same time they were increasingly left out of the limelight.
The Geneva Countach was still a prototype, but everyone knew it would go
into production. There was no doubt about it this time, even though its
five-litre V12 engine, perhaps an overly optimistic expansion of the classic
4-litre model, subsequently had to be scaled back. And then there was the
difficulty of the optimum development of this intricate new transmission: the
gearbox was mounted longitudinally in front of the engine, and from gearbox
the propshaft reached the differential through the engine block. No matter:
the Countach was a breathtaking, dazzling car. Customers tussled to get
the first or second ones being made and Lamborghini left Geneva with a
portfolio full of orders.
The changes that were taking place around Lamborghini, however, reflected
the social situation around the world, particularly in Italy. Labour unions’
unrest in that period created a difficult situation in all factories, particularly
at engineering companies in northern Italy, in which the owner’s control was
openly contested and profer organisation became increasing difficult. For
Lamborghini, long accustomed to the direct, sometimes rough, somewhat
paternalistic but attentive control of his factories, this new situation became
intolerable. In 1972 he sold his majority stake to the Swiss Georges-Henri
Rossetti, and the following year he sold his remaining shares to a friend,
René Leimer. Thus, the company founder – the man who had been the
driving force behind its extraordinary, vital explosion during the first eight
years – left the scene for good.
The company continued to work at its regular pace. In 1972, the P250
Urraco, the 400 GT Jarama, the 400 GT Espada and the P400 Miura SV
were in full production. That year, in an attempt to improve sales that were
frankly quite disappointing until then, the Jarama hand a 365-hp engine and
was dubbed the Jarama S. Nevertheless, not even this new version,
characterised by new alloy wheels as well as a series of improvements to
the interior, could change the commercial fate of an excellent but unlucky
model that, in all likelihood, was overshadowed by the striking appearance
of its rear-engined sisters.
In 1972, the Urraco, which had experienced several initial slowdowns, was
finally put into production. Almost inevitably, the S version also arrived in
October of that year. In this case, the goal was not to enhance the car’s
performance but to improve its overall quality, which had been neglected in
the haste to start production.
The following year, while waiting for the Countach prototype to be developed
to a stage that would enable its production, the Espada was further modified
and perfected, and the new series was presented in October 1972. New
wheels as well as perfected detailing of the entire body, the dashboard, the
central instrument panel and various components characterised this
well-made Series III. This last series essentially represented the decisive
peak in the evolution of this outstanding four-seater, which is still in great
demand among Lamborghini fans around the world. Its production would
reach the respectable figure of 1226 units, quite a large number for a
carmaker of this size selling at top-level list prices.
The production model of the Countach was codenamed LP 400 because its
V12 – positioned longitudinally behind the cockpit – was increased to an
ideal displacement of 4 litres (3929 cc). This model debuted at the 1973
Geneva Motor Show. Little had changed with respect to the prototype
displayed two years before: the characteristic air intakes were placed just
behind the cockpit, accentuating its aggressive lines and giving the
Countach an even more futuristic look. In the meantime, at Sant’Agata the
new owners decided to let Bob Wallace build a few cars that were
conceptually similar to the Jota, based on both the Jarama and the Urraco.
These models, declaredly designed for the racetrack, also remained sole
specimens, but at least they were not demolished, and both the Jarama and
the Urraco Bob are now in private collections.
Standard production of the Countach began at the end of 1973 with the
bright-green model exhibited at the Paris Motor Show, which is now part of
the permanent collection of the Lamborghini Museum. This was the first
Countach featuring the large single front windscreen wiper. The model range
for 1974 thus included the Countach, the Espada Series III, the Jarama S
and the Urraco S. Delivery of the first Countachs began and, starting in
March, Jarama and Espada customers could request an automatic
transmission for their cars. Needless to say, very few took advantage of this
option.
In the meantime, the world was changing. The oil crisis sparked by the 1973
Arab-Israeli War created a climate of fear about petrol supplies. As a result,
the big, fuel-guzzling super sports cars rapidly became passé. They were
considered the expression of unjustifiable luxury, whose exploitation of too
much of our planet’s natural resources was no longer acceptable. These
were extremist stances that were destined to pass, but at the time they
created enormous difficulties for all the makers of this type of car. Traffic
restrictions were enacted, cars were banned on Sundays, the US
introduced taxes on cars that consumed too much fuel and oil supplies
were limited. Moreover, new and very strict speed limits were introduced.
The immediate effect was devastating, particularly for the sports car
companies. Given its market position at the top end of the supercar
segment, Lamborghini was dealt a particularly harsh blow and the company
did its best to react. In an attempt to overcome these problems, two new
Urraco models were presented. In effect, they were spin-offs of the P250
range: a two-litre model (P200), again with a single camshaft but this time
with a lower engine displacement in deference to tax restrictions, and a
more powerful and mature 3-litre model (P300), with double overhead
camshaft distribution and the power raised to 250 hp.
The gradually deteriorating social situation and the drop in sales made it
necessary to streamline the production range. The Jarama essentially went
out of production, and at the 1974 Motor Show in Turin Bertone proposed an
intriguing study based on the mechanics of the P300. The Bravo was a
wedge-shaped coup with an unusual treatment of the front and rear hood,
and the front and side windows were jointed without any visible posts. It was
also the first car to feature the distinctive five-hole wheels that would later
become the hallmark of all the most powerful Lamborghinis. There was no
follow-up to this prototype, despite the fact that many fans had requested
one: the situation was too difficult to devote any attention to versions that
would entail heavy investments.
However, the company continued to look ahead, attempting to satisfy
market requirements. The success that Porsche, long one of the reference
constructors in the field of high-class sports cars, achieved with its Targa
(1965) had demonstrated that there were always plenty of car buffs around
the world who were willing to spend substantial sums of money on a
high-performance convertible. And while legislation worldwide was moving
towards a progressive ban of canvas-topped convertibles, the expedient
used by the German car – a wide roll-bar and solid rear window, with only a
removable mid-roof section – was welcomed widely.
Inspired by this concept and using the excellent mechanical basis of the
now-perfected Urraco P300, Lamborghini decided to work alongside Bertone
to develop a Urraco model with a removable roof panel. Presented at the
Geneva Motor Show in 1976, the Silhouette was an aggressive model with
an unmistakable appearance due above all to the widened front and rear
wheel housings featuring an unusual ‘squared’ configuration rather than the
more traditional one seen on the first prototypes, which followed the curve of
the tyre. The Silhouette had the 3-litre 260 hp V8 engine of the Urraco P300,
mid-mounted transversally behind the cockpit, and the body and chassis
were made completely of steel. Although this made the car rather heavy, its
overall quality was very high – as was its price. The Silhouette was
presented in Italy on 26 February 1976 at a list price of nearly 15 million lire,
not much lower than the cost of the far more powerful and extravagant
Countach, which sold for less than 18 million lire. Obviously, this steep
price tag ended up sharply limiting its circulation. The overall production of
this rare model came to just 54 units over a three-year period, making it one
of the rarest and most exclusive Lamborghinis.
These commercial and production difficulties were complicating the life of
the company, leading the head of Lamborghini to seek outside collaboration
in order to make better use of the equipment that, due to dropping sales,
largely remained idle. The most significant cooperative effort came in 1976
with BMW Motorsport, which was headed by Jochen Neerpasch at the time.
The contract envisaged the design and subsequent production of a super
sports car with the engine mounted behind the cockpit, based on concepts
for which Lamborghini had more experience and a better image than anyone
in the world. Its engine was to be the straight-six made by the Munich
company. The contract was extremely lucrative and would ensure the
peaceful survival of the Bologna company for a few years, and this made it a
worthwhile opportunity in those difficult years.
Unfortunately, another event intervened, further complicating things.
Following contacts made with military suppliers of off-road vehicles, and
particularly with ‘MTI’ (Mobility Technologies International), the company
owners decided to design and construct a vehicle that was completely
different from the ones that had been designed at Sant’Agata until then: a
full-fledged high-performance off-road vehicle offering maximum mobility on
the roughest terrain. The Cheetah, whose technical specifications were
dictated by the American company down to the smallest details, was
designed with a very distinctive configuration. Since it was intended strictly
for military use in extremely tough environments with little possibility for
maintenance servicing, a large American engine had to be mounted instead
of an engine made by Lamborghini, as usually done.
Unfortunately, various technical and legal problems ultimately made it
impossible to produce the Cheetah, as it required too much of an
investment for the small Italian company. The project never got off the
ground and, at the same time, the collaboration with BMW evaporated. The
combination created confusion, enormous complications and a period of
stagnation that paralysed the company. Fortunately, Lamborghini’s
customers were more farsighted than the parties managing it at the time, as
demonstrated by the superb reinterpretation of the Countach by a
flamboyant and very wealthy customer who was one of the leaders on the
automotive scene of the late Seventies, Walter Wolf. In fact, he was the first
one to realise that the Countach, which had already become the definitive
symbol of the ‘exotic’ sports car around the world, could be restyled,
developed and, above all, made even more aggressive and brazen from an
aesthetic standpoint. Whereas Gandini had attempted to maintain a
generally sleek line and the company hesitantly added just the bare
minimum in terms of aerodynamic features and air intakes, Wolf went
overboard, following the stylistic configuration of the Silhouette: he mounted
ultra-wide Pirelli P7 tyres on special five-hole alloy wheels and also widened
the wheel housings. In a sensational coup, he also invented the enormous
rear wing, an addition that was more theatrical than functional.
Nevertheless, combined with particularly aggressive colour schemes, this
made the Countach a veritable cultural icon because of its spectacular
appearance and visual impact, making it the dream of sports car
aficionados.
This did not stave off tougher years, however, and the company went into
temporary receivership. Production of the Espada ended in 1978, followed
by the Urraco and, lastly, also the Silhouette in 1979. Thus, only the S
version of the Countach – the one invented by Wolf – was still in production.
There was nothing left to be done except to continue with this extraordinary
model, which allowed the company to survive despite the fact that business
was shrinking. In fact, between 1978 and 1982, a total of 237 units were
delivered. For the purposes of comparison, 158 ‘normal’ Countach LP400s
were produced between 1973 and 1977.
Bertone still believed in the company, and in 1980 he presented an
intriguing study for a completely open car based on the P300: the Athon.
The name was intended as a ‘hymn to the sun’, as the car was completely
open and had no roof whatsoever, but there was no follow-up to it. Due to
the disastrous financial situation, other important opportunities were lost: in
1978 Frua presented the Faena, an interesting four-seater coupe
constructed on a chassis from the 1974 Espada Series II, lengthened by
178 mm for a roomier interior. Naturally, the Faena also ended up being a
one-off, like Bertone’s interesting proposal to build a four-door Espada with
the same general configuration as the two-door model. The company slid
toward bankruptcy and then liquidation. By 1980, Lamborghini was
considered finished.
Fortunately, the allure of these cars, flaunting a name that had now become
a legend, coupled above all with the absolutely unrivalled aura of the
Countach, aroused enormous interest in the company. As soon as it was
put up for liquidation, it had a number of admirers lined up to take it over.
Some of the proposals made to Judge Mirone were merely flights of fancy,
while others simply wanted to take over the factory, quickly sell off the
existing stock of spare parts and the few finished cars, and then close the
company for good. However, others arrived with the right ideas to save this
prestigious make and, in the end, the judge entrusted the company to two
brothers, Jean-Claude and Patrick Mimran, the wealthy owners of a sugar
empire in Senegal and, naturally, sports car lovers.
The two brothers, assisted by their plenipotentiary in Sant’Agata, Emil
Novaro, immediately set out to reconstruct the company. The ‘Nuova
Automobili Ferruccio Lamborghini SpA’ company was thus formed in
January 1981 and from that moment on, work was seriously underway
again. One of the first decisions – an exquisitely technical one – was to hire
engineer Giulio Alfieri as the company’s technical director. The emblem of
Maserati’s golden age, Alfieri had clashed with Alejandro De Tomaso, the
new owner of the Modena car company. As a result, he was delighted to
tackle the endeavour to help rebuild Lamborghini.
With this celebrated designer at the helm of the company and loyal staff
members, like Ubaldo Sgarzi, who had been with the company since the
outset, Lamborghini went to the Geneva Motor Show in March 1981 with a
new stand that, first of all, displayed the new company name. It exhibited a
Miura, restyled by a Swiss company with debatable results, and the
Countach S with its large rear wing. Also on display was the initial attempt
to reinterpret the hefty off-road Cheetah, which had been modified
extensively to avoid legal action threatened by FMC and was thus dubbed
the LM 001. However, the most tangible and reassuring sign of the new path
undertaken by Lamborghini came with the first appearance of the Jalpa, a
mature and well-finished evolution of the rare Silhouette, whose V8 engine
was expanded to 3.5 litres to produce 255 hp, and an overall updating in
terms of styling and ergonomics. The Jalpa (P350) was not an entirely new
product, but it was a well-made and convincing car. The renaissance of the
new Lamborghini came about not only through the production of the
Countach, still in great demand among connoisseurs, but also through this
model.
The injection of capital by the Mimran family finally made it possible to
resume serious development work on the Countach, which had essentially
remained the same since 1973, with the exception of wider mudguards and
tyres for the S version. Alfieri increased the displacement of the classic
12-cylinder engine, bringing it to 4.7 litres to crank out 375 hp and thus
recuperate the outstanding performance that had been sacrificed to some
extent by the tyres and aerodynamic additions. This was the Countach
5000, whose look was virtually indistinguishable from the 4-litre S version.
This was a providential model and the Sant’Agata company, no longer
oppressed by the heavy financial burden of several years before, could
finally produce all the cars its customers ordered. Thus, in just three years
a total of 321 Countach 5000s were made.
The Mimran brothers also decided to insist in the direction – certainly
innovative for the period – of large high-performance off-road vehicles. Also in
1982, the engine was judiciously moved in front of the cockpit, culminating
in the prototype known as the LMA, an acronym that, according to different
interpretations, may mean ‘Lamborghini Motore Anteriore’ or ‘Lamborghini
Militare Anteriore’. In any event, this engine was no longer an American V8
but the Bologna-built 12-cylinder unit, restoring dignity to Lamborghini’s
off-road project.
It seemed that, finally, Lamborghini’s luck had turned. The two cars in
production at the time, the Jalpa and the Countach 5000 S, kept customers
satisfied and growing numbers were sold around the world. Every so often,
minor changes were made but the auto designs were on target and, from a
commercial standpoint, the situation had improved substantially. Although it
was costly, work continued to develop the off-road model, which became the
LM 004. By this time, it had a colossal 7-litre front-mounted V12 engine
and, for the first time, its top speed broke the barrier of 200 km/hour. Pirelli
collaborated with Lamborghini to develop a new top-performing tyre that
could be used on any terrain, from asphalt to the sands of the great African
deserts. This would become the Pirelli Scorpion.
At the same time, work also proceeded on an in-depth technical update of
the cars. In 1985, the Lamborghini stand at the Geneva Motor Show
presented the new version of the Countach, the Quattrovalvole. Alfieri
extensively redesigned the entire classic Lamborghini engine, which had
first been put out nearly 22 years earlier. He further increased its
displacement to add power, and by using heads with four valves per
cylinder, the 5167-cc engine climbed to 455 hp at 7000 rpm, a power level
that put the Countach well ahead of all its traditional rivals. After years of
problems, evolutions, redesigns and modifications, Lamborghini’s hefty
off-road vehicle finally went into production: the year was 1986. The LM 002
mounted a V12 engine that was essentially the same one used for the
Countach, giving up the idea of mounting the enormous 7-litre of the
previous prototype.
Through the shrewd reconstruction work spearheaded by the Mimran
brothers and Emil Novaro, the revival of Lamborghini was firmly established
by this time. The year 1987 was a positive one, with good sales of both the
Countach and the Jalpa. In the meantime, orders started to roll in for the LM
and development work continued on the whole line-up. The early prototypes
of the Tipo 132, destined to become the successor to the Countach, began
to circulate. In 1987, work was also undertaken to develop a car derived
from the Jalpa, but with a canvas top: this was the Jalpa Spyder, also
known as the Speedster. A prototype was built but the car never went into
production, due to technical difficulties.
Then suddenly, there came a bolt out of the blue. On 23 April 1987, ‘Nuova
Automobili Lamborghini SpA’ was taken over by the US Chrysler company,
which just a few years before had also been on the brink of closing and was
now in fine form, mainly through the efforts of Italian-American CEO Lee A.
Iacocca. The Mimran brothers exited, thanked warmly by those who
celebrated them for having saved the small Bologna company from
disappearing. The American owners quickly settled in at Sant’Agata and a
period of intense activity began, this time in close collaboration with a major
automotive industry.
The premises were good, although there were a few false steps at the
beginning: the prototype of the Portofino, an enormous four-seat, four-door
coupe on a lengthened Jalpa chassis, left everyone perplexed and reflected
an unacceptable deviation from the spirit of the Lamborghini. This was
actually a line conceived for an American car (Chrysler’s 1986 Navajo
prototype), with an Italian engine, logo and name hastily attached to it.
Luckily, there was no follow-up to this project, but unfortunately the
Americans would never produce either the interesting ‘baby Lamborghini’
designed during this period, fitted with a V10 engine and codenamed L140,
nor Bertone’s stroke of genius, the Genesis. The latter, exhibited at the
1988 Turin Auto Show, was an extremely spacious MPV with a very
appealing look, fitted with the 455-hp V12 engine from the Countach
Quattrovalvole. It was a magnificent car that was far ahead of its time, given
that the market would soon start to demand more luxurious and faster
MPVs. But Chrysler did not believe in it and the Genesis remained just a
magnificent study.
Instead, there was a follow-up to the Project 132, albeit a troubled one. Due
to one of the cyclical reversals that has long characterised the market of
top-performing supercars, in the late Eighties there was a sudden general
interest in these cars. As a result, there was a full-fledged boom in the
market for exotics, and prices started to climb not only for the older
collector models but also for normal production. Some time before,
Lamborghini had again commissioned Marcello Gandini to design the
successor to the Countach, and the Turin-born designer created another
stunning car, characterised by an intentional, clever imbalance between the
streamlined front and the far more massive rear, which symbolised the
enormous power contained behind the cockpit in the engine compartment.
The 132 was a beauty, but the development time, which had always been
quite rapid under the Mimran management, suddenly ballooned due to the
interference of too many aspiring designers during the Chrysler era. What
should have been ready in 1988 or at most 1989, thus taking full advantage
of the sudden and generalised bullish market, was instead subjected to
continuous changes. The line was altered several times and the start of
production naturally had to be postponed. This was more than a mere waste
of time, as it squandered the opportunity to have the new product available
at the most favourable moment. By the time the 132 was ready, enthusiasm
for supercars had waned to some extent, as the market was more saturated
and thus less receptive.
As it waited for the new car to arrive, Lamborghini continued to produce the
Countach, still in enthusiastic demand around the world. Production of the
Quattrovalvole series stopped in 1988, with a total of 631 units. In the
meantime, the company gained experience with composite materials and a
special Countach, the Evoluzione, demonstrated the full potential of this
project. Weight reduction permitted by these new materials, coupled with a
more powerful engine achieved above all using new engine technologies
management, offered extraordinary performance. Unfortunately, however, the
Evoluzione never went into production. Likewise, the special ‘asymmetrical’
Countach designed by Alfieri between 1987 and 1988 as an alternative to
constructing a completely new car, was also destined to remain a
prototype, albeit for other reasons. This car was particularly interesting
because of its in-depth research into the placement of the mechanical parts,
the fuel tank and other components. Air intakes for the engine were set on
the sides, permitting greater aerodynamic efficiency.
Until then, the history of Lamborghini had been distinguished by the
construction of extraordinary sports cars that had no need to draw on the
experience – intriguing but also very expensive – of a Racing Department.
From the very beginning, Ferruccio had made it clear that he had no
intention of funding these expensive adventures and that was how the
company had always operated.
The arrival of Chrysler, and of various executives who were hypnotised by
the glamour of auto racing, changed this attitude as well. Towards the end
of 1987, the French Formula 1 team Larrousse asked Mauro Forghieri, the
celebrated designer of Ferrari’s finest models from the Sixties and
Seventies, to create a new engine, and he turned to his good friends at
Lamborghini with the proposal of embarking on the project together. After
obtaining Chrysler’s approval, Forghieri designed his engine, a V12 with a
3.5-litre capacity, the maximum displacement allowed by regulations. A
new parallel structure, separate from Lamborghini and named Lamborghini
Engineering, was established in Modena specifically for this engine. The
speed of the designer from Modena and of the organisations with which he
worked was renowned. Ready within a matter of months, the new engine
was officially demonstrated to the public in April 1988.
Naturally, the news was sensational. The debut in Formula 1 racing of a
company like Lamborghini – long the master at producing high-quality,
top-performing twelve-cylinder engines – was a major event, and one that
could cause plenty of headaches for Lamborghini’s direct rivals. Moreover,
the commitment and risk for the company were still rather limited, given that
Lamborghini was simply supplying engines to the Larrousse team, which
obviously pledged to pay for them. The 1989 season was rather
disappointing, but the fault for these poor results lay above all with the
French team, which did not have the money and organisation required to
compete at the highest levels. Nevertheless, the engine showed excellent
potential that deserved to be exploited. As a result, even a titled team like
Lotus requested Lamborghini engines for the following season.
Thanks also to this double supply of engines to two teams, the results for
1990 were nothing short of brilliant. At the end of the British Grand Prix,
Bernard won an extraordinary fourth place and Suzuki placed sixth. The
Hungarian Grand Prix was even more rewarding for the Lamborghini
engines, which placed fifth, sixth and seventh, respectively with Warwick
(Lotus), Bernard (Larrousse) and Donnelly (Lotus). Nevertheless, the best
placement of the whole season came from Suzuki on his home turf at the
Grand Prix in Japan, as he placed third and gave the company its first
podium finish. This was the best placement ever achieved by a Lamborghini
engine in all its seasons of activity.
The finale of the 1990 season – definitely on the rise, with 14 points racked
up by the teams with a Lamborghini engine – understandably fuelled the
excitement in both Sant’Agata and Detroit. Thus, a wealthy Mexican
businessman decided that, in the wake of this success, he would place an
order with Lamborghini not only for a F1 racing engine, but for an entire car.
The opportunity was obviously too good to pass up, and once the
customer’s ample finances were confirmed, Forghieri and his team briskly
went to work on the entire project. The single-seater was a relatively
conventional one, but its design showed great attention to detail and it
brought together all the experience gained by the Modena designer
throughout his long career. In particular, it made the most of the data
collected over two years of working with the teams using this engine. The
new car was entered into the 1991 world championship season, but
suddenly the Mexican backer mysteriously disappeared (he was never
heard from again) and, at this point, there arose the serious problem of
financing the team. An Italian industrialist came forward, offering to make up
the shortfall to race the car, which was thus able to participate in the world
championship that year as the ‘Modena Team’.
That season, Lotus and Larrousse decided to forgo the Lamborghini
engines, which were requested instead by Ligier. But the effort involved in
following an entire racing team and outsourcing engines – and with
decidedly inadequate funding for this purpose – aggravated the already
known problems, and the season of Lamborghini’s single-seater was not a
thrilling one. If greater financial resources had been available, it would
probably have been possible to find better solutions to the various problems
that arose during the season. However, Chrysler inexplicably refused to
support this activity in any way, even when it became evident that the
economic problems faced by Lamborghini Engineering would trigger a drop
in the performance of the F1 car and thus a problem in terms of brand
image. Despite Forghieri’s commitment, the American company’s
insensitivity to this problem led to a progressive decline in automotive
performance and the 1991 season ended negatively, with the definitive
withdrawal of the Modena F1 Team from the world championship. Now this
lovely single-seater can also be admired at the Sant’Agata museum, and it
represents one of the most important missed opportunities in the history of
Lamborghini.
The 1992 season saw the return of Lamborghini as the engine supplier for
the Larrousse and Minardi teams, the latter coming out of a difficult season
with Ferrari engines. In 1993, the Modena company supplied V12 engines
only to Larrousse. In both seasons, enormous engine problems arose,
reflecting the lack of funds available for the technical development of the
engine. The fact that it was fundamentally a well-designed engine is proven
by Ayrton Senna’s interest in it, and the Senna tested a Lamborghini engine
on the McLaren he was driving at the time. The agreement was in place and
ready to be signed when Peugeot, which wanted to return to Formula 1
racing by supplying one of its engines to a high-profile team, stepped in and
the deal fell apart, thereby ending Lamborghini’s adventure in the world of
Formula 1 racing. The firm continued, with good overall results, to compete
in the field of marine engines, an area that was completely foreign to the
original philosophy of Lamborghini cars but allowed it to achieve important
results in specialised championships like powerboat racing.
In the meantime, Lamborghini managed to make significant progress in
renewing its model range of road vehicles. Based on the initial plans, the
Countach’s successor, i.e. the 132, was scheduled to come out in 1988, for
the ideal celebration of the company’s Silver Anniversary. However, because
of the ongoing interference from the American company, the presentation of
this model was continuously postponed. Thus, in order to celebrate the
company’s twenty-fifth anniversary, a commemorative version of the
Countach was produced. This involved extensive modification – particularly
in terms of look – of the well-known Quattrovalvole, incorporating all the
benefits gained from the most recent studies of composite materials and
engine management systems. The Anniversary was the praiseworthy final
version of this glorious car, and needless to say, it was welcomed
enthusiastically by customers, who purchased no less than 657 units. At
this point, many people started to wonder if the new car would be a worthy
replacement of this great classic.
The Countach’s successor was presented in 1990. The 132 was dubbed the
Diablo, the name of a particularly fierce fighting bull of the nineteenth
century, and it proved to be up to expectations. The Countach’s follower
could not be a conventional car, of course, and it had to be extreme,
spectacular, forceful and uncommon: the Diablo, with its 492 hp generated
by a 5.7-litre V12, was all this – and more. From a technical standpoint, it
represented a significant development of the Countach. Its designer, Luigi
Marmiroli, attempted to overcome the less positive aspects of the previous
project and prepared a truly modern and up-to-date car. Despite the
numerous stylistic incursions from the American side, its line nevertheless
maintained an appreciable overall style. But the Diablo was not only
attractive. It was also extremely powerful and boasted of solid technical
foundations: with its twelve-cylinder engine, it clocked a speed of over 327
km/hour. In 1990, the Diablo was presented in the two-wheel drive version,
but a four-wheel drive version was already in the wings, and from that point
on this would become a distinctive feature of the top Lamborghinis.
This version, named the Diablo VT for ‘Viscous Traction’, given the presence
of a viscous coupling between the front and rear axles, was presented at the
Geneva Motor Show in March 1993. This was an important and delicate
moment, as the world market for supercars had narrowed once again and
there were signs of an imminent new crisis for the entire sector. The Diablo
convinced customers, however, and its production continued with good
commercial results. In the meantime, the production of the LM 002 off-road
vehicle came to an end, for a total production of 301 units.
The Mimran brothers’ decision to sell Lamborghini to Chrysler, while rather
unexpected, nevertheless had a certain logic to it. It was natural that a
major company that mass-produced cars should be interested in purchasing
a jewel like Lamborghini for its product range. Instead, Chrysler’s
subsequent sudden decision to sell the Bologna company to a group of
unknown Indonesian investors seems far more difficult to explain. This
change of hands became official on 21 January 1994, destabilising the
company management. The new owners recruited a number of English and
American executives who gradually proved to be less and less suitable for
their positions. The oddest ideas started to pile up during the months that
followed, calling to mind – for those who had already lived through the
history of Lamborghini – the years of great psychological confusion between
1974 and 1980. One of the first decisions made by the new chairman was to
put the LM back into production, although it was abundantly clear that
Lamborghini could not afford the steep development costs that would be
required to make this car appealing. At the same time, however, production
of the ‘baby Lamborghini’, codenamed the L140, was frozen and put off time
and again, even though it would have allowed the prestigious firm to place a
product in a more inviting sector for its customers. Luckily, the LM project
was never effectively restarted.
Despite these problems and the progressively deteriorating human relations
within the company, the Diablo was developed and many collateral models
were derived from it, some of which would prove to be very popular with
certain consumer ranges. Some of the most interesting were the 1995 SV,
a lighter and more powerful model that placed a premium on driving pleasure
over comfort, and the VT Roadster with a Targa-style removable roof, which
was instantly a hit, particularly in the United States. Other special editions,
such as the SE, Jota, Monterey, Alpine and many others, were derived from
these models. Also in 1995, Giorgetto Giugiaro demonstrated the Calà to
the trade press, and this was another car with a V10 engine designed to
replace the Jalpa. Interesting as it may have been, however, it never left the
prototype stage.
In 1996, a single-make championship was also inaugurated, and during that
critical moment it was conceived above all as a way of selling another
handful of Diablos, thanks to the organisation of a series of races to be held
in Europe, with regulations similar to the ones followed by established
international championships such as the Porsche Carrera Cup. A circuit
version of the Diablo – the SVR – was made for this championship. In 1999,
its on-road evolution was announced (the GT an ultra-sporty road version
produced in a limited series of 83 units) as well as the circuit model for the
new cycle of races for this trophy (GTR, with a 6-litre 590-hp engine,
produced in a limited series of 32 units).
In late 1996 Vittorio Di Capua was at the helm of the company. In the
meantime, Luigi Marmiroli left Lamborghini for personal reasons and
Massimo Ceccarani took his place.
The need to develop new models and thus to make major investments along
these lines was evident. By this time, the Diablo was more than seven
years old, a very long time in this difficult market. The first idea was to
attempt extensive restyling, essentially changing the entire body of the
Diablo but maintaining its excellent mechanical base. To do this, the
company contacted an Italian studio that had previously made an interesting
prototype using the same mechanical base, dubbed the Raptor. However,
the version proposed for production, and thus modified to meet international
legislative requirements, was unconvincing. This too proved to be a blind
alley.
At the same time, Lamborghini turned to several top-level carmakers,
including Audi, to request their technical collaboration. The initial idea was
to ask for the 8-cylinder engine of the ‘A8’ flagship to power the future ‘baby
Lamborghini’, but Audi’s technical staff went back to company headquarters
in Germany with very positive reports on the status of the company, its
newfound good management and the professional level of the development
work being done on its cars.
At this time, Ferdinand Piëch, the grandson of the legendary Professor
Ferdinand Porsche – the inventor of the famous Beetle – and the nephew of
Porsche founder Ferry, was the chairman of the Volkswagen Group, whose
revival he had masterminded. Piech was immediately interested:
Lamborghini had fascinated him years before during his first visits to Italy as
a young automotive engineer, and now that he had carefully examined the
situation of the Bologna company, he decided to move ahead as quickly as
possible. The first letter of intents between Audi and Lamborghini was
signed on 12 June 1998, and the contract for the complete and definitive
transfer of all the shares from the last Indonesian shareholder to the German
company was completed on 27 July of the same year, just 50 days later.
Within a few months, the Board of Directors had changed completed.
Managers carefully chosen by the Audi Group stepped into the various
positions, from Giuseppe Greco to Werner Mischke, from Rodolfo Rocchio
to Hans Peter Rottländer, to designer Luc Donckerwolke and others.
More importantly, however, this marked the beginning of a completely new
life for Lamborghini. For too long, there had been doubts, a lack of funds,
world economic troubles and problems with the corporate organisation. For
too long, the company had had to fall back on constant updates of classic
products without being able to make true major steps forward. This was a
situation that Lamborghini had already experienced and had overcome
brilliantly. And once again, the stormy second half of the Nineties rapidly
became a dim memory. The firm in Sant’Agata Bolognese looked ahead to
the new millennium and entered it with the confidence that it was finally in
excellent hands. The Audi Group is not only a rich and famous company:
the very fact of being under this kind of umbrella also means counting on the
assistance of a leading automotive company, one that is known for its high
technical profile. And it is a company that can provide Lamborghini with all
the advantages of large production numbers and of the technology
developed for these figures, but without taking one iota away from
Lamborghini’s legendary personality.
The first major innovation came in 2001 with the successor to the Diablo:
the Murciélago. It is almost superfluous to point out that this new model
was also named after a famous, fierce fighting bull. The fact that this
Spanish word actually means ‘bat’ only serves to augment the dark, almost
nocturnal magnetism of this magnificent new car. Its power has also been
boosted to 580 hp, and this obviously increases its speed, muscle and
acceleration. What has been augmented above all is the sensation of the
overall quality of the car, with a level of finishing touches that is even better
than the already excellent results of the last Diablos. Sales have
immediately gone well, and Lamborghini can count on selling each one it
makes, as these cars are reserved by customers well in advance.
The Murciélago is not destined to be alone, but during the wait for its
companion in the Sant’Agata model range, several variants have been
studied. The first one – and indubitably the most spectacular – is a concept
car, a ‘Barchetta’ version presented at the 2003 Detroit Auto Show. It is not
simply a Murciélago without the roof, but is essentially a new car, with its
beguiling treatment of the rear bonnet and lateral posts. For the time being,
it is a concept model, but a modified version will go into production. The
other brand-new item is also being unveiled in 2003, but in this case at the
Geneva Motor Show: the Gallardo, or the new ‘baby Lamborghini’.
Calling the Gallardo the ‘baby’ may sound amusing. It is, of course, when
compared to the large, even more powerful flagship, the Murciélago. But this
adjective doesn’t sound so appropriate for a car with a 500-hp 50-valves V10
engine, permanent four-wheel drive and a top speed of well over 300 km/h.
Of course, the concept of ‘small’ is relative, and people in Sant’Agata may
well apply the term to any car with less than 12 cylinders. In any event, it is
clear that the Gallardo presents itself as a splendid second Lamborghini,
the perfect baby sister to the potent Murciélago. Side by side, these two
represent the perfect backbone for the small company that has returned to
its former splendour and that can confidently look ahead, knowing that it
can do even more in the near future.
It is not always easy to determine the precise number of cars that a small,
exclusive manufacturer of exotic sports cars has built during its history.
Several changes of ownership may have dislocated some records, several
cars have been upgraded or rebuilt by the factory itself, the prototypes might
be included in one model’s production list or not, and so on.
On the occasion of the celebrations for its 40th anniversary, Automobili
Lamborghini has therefore decided, as a small additional gift to all its loyal
customers and enthusiasts, to put things right once and for all. A true
Historical Archive has therefore been painstakingly created – in addition to
the Registro Lamborghini – to collect production sheets of all ‘series’
Lamborghinis produced since 1963 (prototypes and one-offs excluded for
obvious reasons), and trace the full production history.
The following table shows what is therefore to be considered the ‘definitive’
list of the cars produced in Sant’Agata since 1963, as officially verified and
deliberated by Automobili Lamborghini.
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