Modern Grand Prix cars are ugly. I am aware there will be those who espouse the beauty of the F2008 or MP4-23, and drool over every bargeboard and flow conditioner, but to me the things are simply ugly.
Of course, these are technical masterpieces of the highest order, designed to minute tolerances and engineered to astonishing levels of detail, but they are still ugly.
The problem began, I think, when Tyrell introduced the high nose concept. From then on aerodynamic attention to detail became the by word, and it was impossible to produce a good-looking F1 car.
A generalisation that may be, but those that went before can usually be described as far more attractive than the later attempts.
While many will point in the direction of the late 80’s and the Barnard designed McLaren and Ferrari efforts – sleek and purposeful they were – I have an alternative challenge: visit 1979, and find me an ugly Grand Prix car. In fact, it won’t take you long as the Championship winning vehicle from that year – the Ferrari T4 – was truly hideous, but look at the rest of the field:
Williams FW07, Wolf WR7, Brabham BT48, Arrows A2, Lotus 79/80 and the truly glorious Ligier JS11. All were beautiful in their own way, all – of course – derivatives of the Lotus 79 (apart from the Arrows A2, a new concept in it’s own right, and one that failed dismally.)
Yet things were destined to get even better, and this was down largely to one man.
Gordon Murray – then designer with Bernie Ecclestones Brabham team – was incapable of designing an ugly car. Even the legendary BT46B ‘fan car’ was pretty – from the front anyhow. But what he came up with late in 1979 was the first of a line of truly breathtakingly gorgeous f1 cars.
At the Canadian Grand Prix – the penultimate round – Niki Lauda did a few laps in the new Ford Cosworth powered Brabham BT49, and decided that F1 was no longer for him. He obviously had no taste, for even if the BT49 had been a dog (which it was not) it was unarguably beautiful, from the lovely slim tapered nose through to the neat and tidy rear end, here was Murray giving us something truly worth watching every other weekend.
By this point in the season the Ligier challenge had faded to nothing (the story of how the team went from early race dominance to mid season mediocrity has at the centre a possibly apocryphal tale of the set up details being thrown away by an absent minded cleaner; they were written on the back of a packet of Giantess…) and the Ferrari steamroller had forged it’s way to the title, but it was clear the tide was turning.
1980 brought justice for the good looking cars, as the Ferrari T5 – a development of the T4 and equally as ugly – proved a complete dog, prompted Jody Scheckter into retirement and left Alan Jones and the beautiful Williams FW07 to take the crown.
Jones was chased hard by Piquet in the BT49, but there was a sea change approaching – the Turbo was soon to be crowned king.
Renault had already bagged a win in 1979, and Rene Arnoux took two wins in the new ‘ground effect’ Renault early in the 1980 season. The momentum, however, was with the British teams, and Brabham – while racing to the 1981 title with Piquet in the venerable BT49 – now in ‘c’ and ‘d’ guises – had embarked upon a liaison with BMW to develop a turbocharged car.
1981 had also seen the emergence of another very pretty car, on that would set the benchmark in design for nigh on a decade – this was the McLaren MP4/1, the revolutionary carbon fibre car that would change the way F1 cars were built in one fell swoop. Also evident was the remarkable Lotus 88 concept, Colin Chapman’s attempt to revolutionise F1 in his way. That, as we all know, was banned. However, back to Brabham.
The BT50 – a development of the BT49 modified to accept the BMW 4 cylinder engine - was hampered in the looks department by a big engine cover, but still looked great from the front. Murray, however, was hard at work on the successor, and BT51 – from rare photo’s that survived – was a very pretty car indeed, a sleeker, smoother BT49, with a much lower cover. That we only know it from pictures is part of an intriguing story.
The BT50 had tested often in 1981, and appeared in practice sessions at a number of Grand Prix, but it was not until the latter half of 1982 that the car was used regularly in races. Work was underway – as we know – to bring the BT51 on stream for 1983.
In fact the BT51 was track testing late in 1982 when, despite assurances to the contrary, the FIA introduced the ‘flat bottom’ rule for 1983, a rule that rendered the BT51 obsolete in an instant, it having been designed for a completely disparate set of regulations.
And this brings us back to the point of this piece – that modern Grand Prix cars are ugly. Because what happened next – Murray being forced to design a completely new car in just a few months – gave us what ranks as (in my eyes, at least) the most utterly beautiful, compelling and glorious example of grand Prix machinery in the modern era of the sport.
Nobody could possibly compare a Maserati 250f with a Williams FW07, or a Lotus 49 with a Ligier JS11, but it is difficult to describe the Brabham BT52 as anything other than breathtaking. From the dramatically pointed nose, past the point where the side pods should be, back to the angular radiators that stick to the side of the car at the last possible point, what we have here is a missile on wheels. A beautiful, fabulous missile at that, and the defining image – for me and many – of the early 1980’s era of Formula One.
It is difficult to pick out a car from the current crop of new machines that comes even close to being so distinctive – paint them all white and would we be able to tell the difference? – and only the extreme ugliness of some can distinguish them from each other. What is that treatment of the Ferrari nose meant to be, and did you ever see anything as utterly disgusting as the BMW F1.08 complete with forward Viking horns?
No, it was all downhill from the BT52 – World Drivers Title winner in 1983, by the way - onwards, and even for Gordon Murray. The bT53 was not quite the car it should have been, the 54 somewhat less, and the 55 – the car that was meant to be the way forward – a disaster.
Other cars became less attractive too – the early 80’s Ferrari’s and Renaults were hardly showstoppers, the Williams progressively ungainly, Lotus hit and miss and only the ’82 Alfa Romeo 182 getting close in the beauty stakes – as supplementary wings and appendages sprouted left, right and centre. Apart from a brief respite in the early 90’s – some pretty Ferrari’s, the Jordan 191, a couple of nice Minardi’s – we have yet to re-visit the glory days of Gordon Murray and his eye for a good looking and effective machine.
The point of this article? Well, it’s a quiet week for news, and I am hoping someone from Hinwil reads this and remembers when BMW were associated with the best looking car in the field, rather than the racing equivalent of Frankenstein’s monster.
Written by 3 on Tue, 29 Jan 2008 12:43:35
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