SPOTTING A curbside classic at the Goodwood Revival could be considered cheating, not least because there isn’t a curb in sight. This annual event in England hosts a celebration of racing from before the introduction of aerodynamic aids in 1966. This spectacular weekend is a pilgrimage for petrolheads, but that date is significant, for it means one of Formula One’s most prominent names is often absent: McLaren.
Since the Monaco Grand Prix of that year when McLaren entered their first car to race, some of the world’s most talented people have sat in their seats. As the former chief engineer Gordon Murray is one of them, and in the hope that he forgives my playing pap for the day, I spotted him driving off in his brainchild, the McLaren F1. Even in a field full of Ferraris and old Jags it was quite the sight. I remember my heart pounding when, twenty years ago in Sussex, I watched over my shoulder as a silver one slid up behind our Citroen BX, overtake, and all but disappear in the time it took to turn my head around.
It is hard to find something new to say about this phenomenal car. Like Lilliputians throwing ropes around Gulliver, so every journalist has tried to find an angle to shackle their impression of this incredible feat. I was going to remind you that through McLaren’s partnership with Honda and Murray’s experience in an NSX that he had pushed for the Japanese to provide the engine for the F1. Rumour has it a V14 was even discussed. But in what must be the most baffling decision made by company that often does the baffling (folding hard-top CRX anyone?), Honda said nope and Murray turned to BMW. But before I go in too far, I note Wikipedia has that base covered.
What they don’t mention is the door mirror: when the F1 first appeared, the mirrors were on the A-pillar; in production they moved to the door. On all but one, that is: one customer was so adamant to have them as per the original concept that the pillars had to be reinforced with extra carbon-fibre to prevent twisting at Vmax. This made the car heavier; Gordon was not best pleased.
Of every device, innovation, and achievement, headlines have been written and benchmarks set. Everything about the F1 was custom-made and convergent towards the same goal of creating the ultimate road car (and I am expecting similar clarity from Apple with their foray into transport -not just cars, I suspect). The three-seat layout; the 3.2s 0-60 time; the gold-plated engine-bay; the butterfly doors (thank-you, Toyota Sera); the 243 mph top speed; the million-dollar asking price. Before you even saw it the F1 had rearranged everything you expected from a car: higher regard for it would not be possible, and the single-mindedness of its objectivity is identical to the pursuit of perfection Toyota sought in creating the first Lexus.
Such stats set up expectations that are impossible for any stylist to fulfill, which is ironic, because in many way the McLaren is a very grounded and logical machine. But it feels as though the facts are greater than the form. The plan shape of the body is straight to reduce drag; the cab is far forward with a low cowl to improve visibility; the car is small to reduce weight. Each attribute is there for a reason. If you were to start with a blank page today with the same goal, the result probably wouldn’t look that different. Drop a couple of cylinders perhaps in favour of a hybrid, use OLED lights front and rear; that’s about it.
Instead I have to cross myself, and hope that Peter Stevens is not reading this. Stevens is the designer of this car, or stylist, as Murray would I expect insist. In the F1 Stevens has created one of the most memorable and timeless shapes in automotive history. It is perfect. Kind of freaky perfect in that it refuses to age.
Traces of his experience at Lotus is found in the abrupt tail (later seen on the Elise), with smoothly integrated volumes not unlike the 1989 Isuzu 4200R concept (above). The F1 is crisp, modern, pert, lithe, with a timelessness inextricably linked to concept and a single-minded, complete vision. It is exactly what this car should and needs to look like.
So I feel it sacrilegious to say that it fails to quicken my pulse. Such is the perfection of the F1, I realise the fault must lie with me, that there is something I have missed, a lesson I have not learned. I keep looking at it, willing myself to fall on my knees in adulation, yet nothing comes. Perhaps I should not confuse clean design with perfect design, for the F1 is very clean, with the drama coming from the package, not extrovert design details. The Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing had eyebrows over the arches; the Countach was Stratos Zero reincarnate; the Testarossa had those strakes.
The F1 is so essentialist that the superfluity of extraneous details and emotion is rationalised out. It is also a product of its time, when, in the nineties, emphasis on the wheels had yet to mature -an essential part of car design today -a trait that also leaves the Honda NSX feeling too prim and polite. In the eternal struggle between heart and head, this car was conceived from the ground up with the grey matter. Such single-mindedness leaves the McLaren F1 almost Japanese in execution; it is also perhaps the most resolved example of British esotericism.
POST SCRIPT: The 2015 Goodwood Revival will celebrate the life and work of Bruce McLaren, founder of the company that bears his name, who died in 1970. More info here.
I think it is interesting that the F1 wound up so similar conceptually to the Ferrari 365 P.
Except for the “strakes” on the sides this car’s design is quite timeless, probably more so than current McLarens. It’s a beauty ?
Spot on analysis. I’ve always admired the F1 for the fact that when it arrived, it was unarguably The Best Supercar. Fastest, best around a track, brilliantly engineered, superlative. And yet looking at it always left me cold. It’s almost too logical, too engineer-perfect, too clean. It’s not that it doesn’t have a soul–but that soul has just a bit of the Vulcan to it, to use a Star Trek analogy. An automotive Mr. Spock.
Still, absolutely brilliant, and it’s aged amazingly well. The 12C doesn’t come remotely close to recapturing the absolute supremacy of the F1, though it could be argued it didn’t try in the face of displays of absolute horsepower like the Veyron.
The F1 was at least twice the price of the 12C, 20 years ago.
Thanks for the article Robert, there were some details I had not read before and I bought a copy of the Driving Ambition F1 book years ago, which is an amazing read on the development of the car. As an example, Gordon Murray gave a briefing to the BMW engine development team that included the instruction to consider the weight and not use a 10mm bolt if a 9mm bolt would do the job.
I’ve seen one of these in the flesh, I’m not sure if there is more than one in the country, and it didn’t disappoint.
I don’t know, looking back it may seem pretty “Japanese”, but at the time I was blown away by it. The center/jump seat configuration, roof scoop, blunt front end, I thought it was pretty wild. It was no Countach, mind you, but its complete dedication to function was unique to supercars and not at all conservative or cautious.
Hey, just wanted to let ya know, thats actually the ISUZU 4200R concept
Not being a jerk, just an avid ISUZU fan 🙂
If it wasn’t pointed out that it’s an Isuzu I would have guessed a dodge concept .
I see what looks like viper wheels and just a hint at the back of the trunk.
The wheel arches and foremost front part look almost intrepid like, and the greenhouse looks like it came off a stratus or Sebring.
Maybe dodge cribbed design ideas off it?
Read once how Gerhard Berger was riding as a passenger in one at Suzuka while Ron Dennis was driving and totaled it crashing at the Esses.
Gordon Murray driving his own F1. Priceless.
What a concept and what a shape. It’s also a great example of the design/styling divide. Murray = designer, Stevens = stylist.
This is what a hypercar should be. The Bugatti Veyron is an ugly fat overweight whale compared to the F1. I’ll take mine in white and red, with ‘Marlboro’ written all over it.
I miss the days when wheels were more subdued like this, All my favorite Ferraris wore that same basic star wheel that spanned the Daytona to the Testarossa. Modern supercars are way too dependent on wheel design, which makes sense since computer modeling makes the rest of the cars hideous… Like the P1.
I remember the no nothing know it all car kid conversations my friends and I had all through elementary school, where we’d stage our hypothetical bench races that invariably ended when one of us would bring our imaginary F1 to our imaginary race track lol. I know often pulled it as the wildcard, it was the “fastest car in the world ever” afterall and when the only relavant measure an 8 year old has is top speed it was a lock. Therefore the F1 is definitely a car vividly engrained in my childhood, YET I never actually liked it. I had a 1:24 scale model of one at some point and if you put it next to our 1990s computer mouse it was only distinguished by the color, which, ironically, that F1 I had is the same color as my current desktop mouse. It was the worlds most expensive appliance. King until the next one bests it and left in the anals of history, much like my scale model in a box in my house’s crawl space. There was just nothing physically memorable about the F1 to me, and, from my observations, the world. Once the Veyron topped it I have barely heard the name uttered since, and there’s zero stylistic connection to the current McLaren roadcars which will also endure a similar fate.
A three-seater car, just big enough for the three surviving Beatles (as of the mid-90s). A centrally-located George Harrison chauffeurs his former colleagues Paul and Ringo in his F1, in “The Beatles Anthology” TV miniseries of 1995:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BOeqXk9b2bM
Harrison, like his buddy Clapton, was quite the enthusiast of fast cars. “The quiet Beatle” may have been a fasting, chanting ascetic, yet he apparently understood there’s more than one way to achieve nirvana.
Not a bad effort considering Bruce Mclaren learned to drive in the family Hillman straight 8 and his first car was an Austin 7 without brakes.
A Baroque Angel on the track?!? Wish I’d seen that for real.
Wow what a sight!
Whenever I consider my personal favourite great cars for the fantasy garage, this comes in as a centrepiece, such is the depth of the original thinking, innovation and the purity of the engineering. And, as Richard says, it still looks great.
Conversely, whilst I won’t say no to one, the Bugatti Veyron is essentially the established recipe turned to level 12, given a great interior and sold very exclusively on its price and limited volume. It has 1000bhp because Ferdinand Piech insisted on it; Gordon Murray used innovative materials and thorough engineering instead to create one of the greatest cars ever built.
And he uses his as any enthusiast would, by driving to the Goodwood Revival. Piech would arrive by helicopter.
The only one I ever had a chance to photograph in the wild parked next to me, and was one of the preproduction cars. Frustratingly, camera phones had not yet been invented!