It’s strange to meet a legend. First, you have to know it’s a legend. I guess that goes without saying, but there are some folks – some with a modicum of automotive knowledge, even – who will walk past this Lamborghini and not bat an eyelid. But most legends are harder to meet because they are rare. Or valuable. Or fragile. These three epithets can describe the Miura.
But being rare, valuable and fragile does not necessarily a legend make. It’s a legend because it’s so low and wide, with a 4-litre DOHC V12 sitting east-west where the rear seat would be. It’s a legend because it made all other high-performance cars obsolete overnight.
And it’s a legend because its outstanding body was designed in about six weeks by a 27-year-old Marcello Gandini. Way to etch your name in the history books. Mind you, Gandini’s youth is not really surprising, when you look at the Miura. It would have been a lot stranger if it had been designed by someone in middle age.
The Miura story started in 1965. Lamborghini’s crack engineering team, especially Gianpaolo Dallara and Paolo Stanzani, somehow already bored with the fledgling marque’s front-engined Ferrari-fighters, dream of designing something akin to a street-legal Formula 1. In their spare time, the team conjure up the P400 chassis, with a hotter (345hp) version of Bizzarrini’s V12 placed transversely ahead of the rear wheels and atop the gearbox.
Ferrucio Lamborghini was initially nonplussed, but unlike Enzo Ferrari, he listened to his engineers. And they swore this was the car that would put Sant’Agata Bolognese on the map. At the 1965 Turin Motor Show, where the chassis was displayed, Ferrucio had a conversation with Nuccio Bertone. Gandini had just started work at the carrozzeria that month. The stars aligned…
Before Christmas 1965, the Miura’s design had been finalized and all parties had agreed on the way forward. Time was of the essence, so things continued to go very quickly. Feverishly, Bertone’s draughtsmen and panel-beaters set to work in January 1966. They had just over two months to translate Gandini’s vision into three dimensions and present it to an unsuspecting world.
The aim was the 1966 Geneva Motor Show, and three bodies were finalized in the nick of time. However, there was allegedly a minor issue: the box section chassis was fine enough, but the engine did not really fit. (I say “allegedly” because not every source out there agrees that this was the case – some even claiming that Nuccio Bertone himself drove the prototype to Switzerland.)
Fitting a 3929cc V12 sitting on top of its 5-speed transaxle in a car measuring 105cm (41.5 in.) tall was a challenge. But it had to be done. The Geneva prototype had caused a collective cargasm among the cognoscenti, leading to a number of orders being received. How many orders? Again, there are many truths floating about. Who knows? (Seriously, if you have a hard source, please let the rest of us know in the comments.)
Whatever the case may be, it appears that Ferrucio, who figured this crazy car might reach a fifty-unit run, was just as surprised as the rest of the world. The first car was delivered just after Christmas 1966 and sales far outpaced production for most of the car’s seven-year production life, resulting in 740-745 units (depending if you count specials like the Jota or the Roadster) being built. It didn’t prevent Ferrucio from having to give up the reins of power in 1972, but it’s hard to imagine that there would still be a Lamborghini today without the Miura.
Another thing we owe the Miura: it heralded the use of bull-related terminology in Lamborghini cars. And thank the Sacred Cow for that. The first Lambo was the 350 GT, soon followed by the 400 GT… One can only imagine what soulless alphanumeric hellscape the range would have been without the Miura.
But that’s with the benefit of hindsight. Gandini, in his infinite 27-year-old wisdom, gave the Lamborghini the benefit of sight. Those incredibly headlights, so masterfully slathered in mascara, gave the Miura a haunting a strangely feminine appearance. Most performance cars went for animalistic styling cues – big cats, stingrays and the like. The Miura was the first car to wear enough makeup to look like a (certain type of) woman.
The integration of the door handle in the air intakes is perhaps my favourite Gandini styling trick. We see what you did there, Marcello. Well done!
The other feature that strikes the eye is the total lack of chrome. For a mid-‘60s design, this is quite a rare feat! It must have been a deliberate choice on the part of Gandini / Bertone / Lamborghini (not sure who exactly). It didn’t last long, though: after the initial run of 250 units, the Miura P 400S was launched at the 1968 Turin Motor Show. It featured a 370hp engine and a few optional creature comforts, such as A/C and power windows. They also added a chrome surround to the windshield and the headlights.
On this early car, the sole flash of brightwork is reserved for the wheel spinners. I’m usually a sucker for shiny trinkets, but the Miura’s approach, with more black trim than anything else, works very well. And it makes the Lamborghini look a lot younger than its nearly sixty years of age.
And finally, there’s that famous louvred backlight. Amazingly influential, it was the Buick ventiport of its day. It adds a degree of aggressivity to the rear end, while highlighting the then-novel engine placement – supremely clever. While we’re back here, let’s note that the Giugiaro-designed Fiat 850 Spider, which inspired the Miura’s headlights, donated its actual rear lights to the Lambo. A discreet blending of styling cues from Bertone’s previous artist-in-residence into Gandini’s masterpiece.
It’s mighty hard to come up with anything to say about the Miura that doesn’t sound trite or cliché. So here’s the last layer of lyrical wax I’ll apply on this amazing machine: it’s beyond automotive design. It’s art.
As a supercar, it was pretty flawed – too fast for its own good, prone to self-immolation and uncomfortable in many ways. Some of that was addressed with the S and SV versions, in 1969 and 1971 respectively, but really, the point of the Miura was not about reaching 300kph with all wheels on the ground or parallel-parking it without breaking a sweat. It was about pushing the envelope, showing Ferrari how it was done and creating breathtaking beauty out of steel, glass and plastic.
Related posts:
Vintage ‘Car’ Review: Lamborghini Miura – The First (and only) Modern Transverse 12 Cylinder Supercar, by GeelongVic
Vintage R&T Road Test: 1968 Lamborghini Miura – “Vroooooooooom!”, by PN
Cohort Pic(k) Of The Day: Lamborghini Miura, by PN
Vintage Outtake: Lamborghini Miura at UC Berkeley, 1972, by Dman
Probably one of the most famous car designs ever.
Anyone out there who didn’t own a Matchbox model of this?
By the way, it occurred to me: The Miura rims could have served as a model for the Matchbox Superfast wheels.
Never had any Matchbox models or much in any other models. Maybe a jet plane model. The ‘visible’ model of the human body kit I got for Xmas 70 years ago prolly still sits in the top of the closet unassembled. I usually preferred to have the real thing, if possible. Or some kind of real thing. Wooden ‘jeep’, minibike, go kart, bicycle, boat, motorcycle, car, truck. I was interested in the Miura. It was low, small, light (under 3K lbs.), cleanly smoothly styled, V12 in middle, 5 speed. Probably provided the feeling of unlimited top speed we Americans love. Checked off all the goodness boxes just as well as Farah Fawcett could… However, I guess I’ll just continue to get my mid engine kicks from my old Fiero. Other roadster sports car fun from the MG Midget. Our Friday night Cruises start back up May 2nd. British Cars Show June 1st. Warm dry weather is starting to be about every day now. Cabin Fever is ending.
Miles Davis was more concerned that his Miura was wrecked than his two broken legs.
When I first saw the Miura, it was the very steep rake of the windshield, that really stood out for me, more than anything. Making it appear significantly more exotic, and streamlined. I’ve always noticed windshield rake, its impact on improved aerodynamics, and its role in making sports cars seem sleeker.
One car that would have benefited dramatically from a steeper windshield rake, was the original Citroen DS from 1955. It would have looked even more advanced, and cleaner.
I started collecting Matchbox die casts in the early 1970’s. The Porsche 910 model had probably replaced the Muira, by then in popularity. And high profile, in their lineup.
What Citroen did was make the windshield wrap around to enhance aero. SAAB copied that on the 99/900. Your point about the looks is well taken however.
The car that made me a petrol head way back in the Jurassic ages. What surprised me when I first saw one was just how low they sat. The complete opposite of the current Lambo SUV which looks like everything else.
Ah yes, the over-rated Miura
Never…maybe you weren’t about then.
Eddie Van Halen recorded his Muira exhaust sounds and incorporated them on to the band’s hit single “Panama” . It was purchased as a gift by his wife, actress Valerie Bertnelli
One is not like the other.
Did / do the “eyelashes” around the headlights serve as air intakes for brake cooling?