2015 BMW i8 Articulates Innovation

THERE ARE common virtues we all seek in a car. Safety. Comfort. Reliability. Pride. Cars subtly express these traits, and because we all prize at least all of these traits, so at least almost all cars will have some visual similarities. But what happens when we start wanting more from the car? What happens when the car starts wanting more from us?

Iconic change is a powerful statement. It represents innovation and revolution against stagnation. It says that in at least one significant way that this product is better. So how do we recognize change when we see it? And how do we design it in? It is an important question. Fortunately, the rise of electric cars gives some clues as to how and how not to do this.

Electric cars are in their infancy, which means imperfect technology inferior in many respects to their brilliantly matured petrol driven counterparts. Part of the attraction is newness, and newness can only be recognized as such when made distinct. The BMW i3 and i8 offer something completely different. Profoundly different. Under the skin different. How can you tell? Because it looks different. How can you remember? Because these changes are easy to articulate. Black bonnet. Blue stripe. Glass hatch. All easy to see, easy to say features.

In design, symbolism is substantiation, and each of these features would be superficial were they not representative of a defining characteristic of the car. The black bonnet lessens the visual weight of the car, reflecting the cars actual lower weight. The blue stripe represents electricity. The glass hatch mimics touch screen interfaces, suggestion a change in how you operate the car.

Yet the change articulated by the i3 and i8 goes beyond electricity. Having battery power is the consequence in the drive for greater sustainability. Question: how do I know this car is sustainable. Answer: the eucalyptus wood in the interior requires no varnish and no chemical treatment. It is completely natural. The leather has been dyed using olive leaves. The dashboard is visibly recycled material reconstituted.

                                                                                                            
 

Compare this to how we might read a 5-series. The 5-series has barely a feature that we haven’t seen before, yet it is sublime. All character and differentiation oozes from the sculpture, the long, languid yet poised shoulder line and the full surfaces around the wheels. It looks extremely expensive. It is perhaps the most perfect design on the road, and the most evolved saloon styling in the world. But hide the picture and describe the car definitively: it is hard to do. No feature that belongs to the 5 does not belong to another car, the attractiveness of the product base solely on sculpture and resolution. But the 5 doesn’t have to be easy to describe as it doesn’t spearhead a change in concept.

The difference between the 5-series and the i3 is that their attractiveness is achieved in two different ways, one through form, the other through feature. Homogeneity in car design means that while brands are still distinct, the features are universal. Now take a look at the rear buttresses of the i8. With one feature we understand lightness, aerodynamic sensibility and newness. All together they define iconic change.  This is no whim of the designer, this is an acute understanding of how to stand out without being shouted down. Being different is easy. Being different and being better is exceptionally hard.

2015 Nissan Murano Takes A Grilling

HOW DOES Sir like his steak? Rare, medium or well-done? Semantically, steak is easy to understand. Aesthetically, steak is powerful and indulgent. In this way, a tenderloin Audi A8 and a T-bone Dodge Ram might be considered automotive steaks. Different cuts maybe, but clearly defined products from established breeds. Things get harder as you move down the food-chain. Nissan, for example, does without the R&D diet of Audi or the Dodge pedigree. They have the odd prime cut in the range, such as the beefy GT-R, but also cars like the offal Datsun with its gristly safety record. So thank Heavens for the burger trend.

This uncouth sandwich has infiltrated every high street, drawing stampedes of customers seeking artisanal patties served by chaps in beards. The guilty pleasure of the Golden Arches has been gentrified, and we witness the cultural paradox of burger connoisseurship. It has saved the bacon of brands like Nissan.

No longer does the success of a company depend solely on the quality of the meat. The patty of the Nissan Murano blends comfort, reliability, flexibility and efficiency to compensate its middling pedigree. The quality might be quotidian, but it stays appealing thanks to the presentation of the platter, using busy design language to distract. Good materials, like good meat, costs money, and designers, like baps, are relatively cheap. Nissan knows that the first bite is taken by the eye, but I prefer something rarer.

2015 Mercedes-Benz S-Class Coupe Has A Loose Thread

IF YOU want to know how it feels to be in a design review, you could do worse than visit Richard James in Savile Row. There, standing in front of a mirror, will you have all the twisted disfigurations of your growth exposed. Smoothly, quickly, young freshly-shaven tailors dart eyes about head, shoulders, torso and hips. Each misconfigured, each declared barely fit for cloth. Fixed to the spot, not a compliment in earshot, every genetic code is corrupted. Only a $4000 suit can save you now.

In car design land, a clay model is open to similar verbal assault. Engineers will needle you about pedestrian impact. An aerodynamicist will iron creases in your tailgate. The studio engineer will be finding the right patterns to use. And then the design chiefs arrive. 

A few deft comments from experts will in the swiftest of movements switch your perception of any given object. Except the designers of the Mercedes-Benz S-Class Coupe. How many eyes must have gazed upon it as it sat in the studio, each line taped, and re-taped. Under such scrutiny, a clay model is exposed in a span of four months to the observations owners will make over forty years. It is a lifetime condensed, so why has the Mercedes Coupe a conspicuously imperfect haunch? 

Consider a fishing-rod withstanding a catch: the rod is arching at the tip; straighter towards the reel. It is a metaphor for poised tension, and an example of the tension designers seek when crafting a line. In profile, the Mercedes Coupe achieves this tension in the line running from the headlamp to rear fender. Yet in other views the line runs so far back, into such a full fender volume, that the 'handle' of the line is misguidedly bent outwards. This creates a second arc of tension, like a fishing-rod with carp pulling at both ends. It conflicts with the main haunch feature and warps the integrity of the line. Every design theme ultimately needs to convey quality, so to stick resolutely to extending this line defeats the point. As for the rest of the car? LJK Setright might describe it as 'expensively beautiful'. Perfect for Savile Row, then.

2014 Mercedes-Benz G-Code Concept Needs A Bigger House

SHOULD THE A-pillar of the G-Code be black? This may seem a trivial point, but given the loose design direction of Mercedes over the past few generations, this small detail poses greater consequences. If the answer is ‘no’, then Mercedes will at least have some parameter to their anything-goes design philosophy. If the answer is ‘yes’, then the organic sprawl of themes that constitute the range will continue to spill into ambiguity, anchored only by the three-pointed star.

That polaris adorns some of the most spectacular cars in history, shining steadfast upon the grilles of successive peerless sedans in the Sixties and Seventies. Such nostalgia is unsuited to objectivity, but does at least provide an emotive counterpoint. However the cars that my junior self admired where as controversial then as the G-Code today. How could a customer born to the Gullwing have felt anything other than dismay at the launch of the 190?

Cars such as the Mercedes-Benz G-Code demonstrate the ‘dining-table’ phenomenon. In the past, opinions and tastes were handed down from parents to children as they conversed together at meal times. The dining-room, however, is the first to be sacrificed in the design of new homes. Thus families resort often to eating on laps watching television, leaving opinions to be constantly renewed by turbulent media. (Though what up-market marque caters to customers who can’t afford a house with a dining-room?)

Rational objections based on precedent or expectation are often overwhelmed by a car simply looking good. One prudishly flaps at the sight of Mercedes sending heirlooms to the pawn-shop, yet the brand emerges modern, even glamourous. One can't deny that in purely practical terms a black A-pillar lengthens an otherwise stubby volume. Perhaps one day the tide will turn and those liberal progressives will return to the world left behind. But I suspect that by that time Mercedes will have thought of another trick to lure them towards the future.

2016 Jaguar XE Is Sincerest Form Of Flattery

IT ALL started with the XF. Out went the long, low silhouette with spring-board like rear end; in came conventional architecture with full hood, fast windscreen and tall trunk deck. Everything you would find on any other mid-sized saloon. Purists baulk at the thought of a Jag being pumped up to an SUV; truth is Jags already are pumped up. This metamorphosis permitted the CX-17 concept, and has now been used to bear the XE. (You try creating a long, low short, tall car).

Despite the glamour of the F-Type (and Jag, like Merc, is a brand that just has it), sales are not up to Land Rover heights. The XE aims to rectify that, so if it looks like a BMW 3-series, don’t be surprised, Jag is targeting that discerning only-a-German-will-do customer with a vengeance.

The front looks like it would avenge. It also mimics a 3-series. Why? Because that's where the eye rests most when looking at a car. Rest your eyes on the rear, however, and Audi will spring to mind before any feline associations (marketing has requested both a leaping cat and JAGUAR spelled out in case anyone draws similar conclusions). 

It is at the back however that you will find the closest link the car has to any other Jaguar. The tight fillet blending cabin to shoulder and trunk deck faithfully apes the Mark II. It is a useful little feature than means there is more sky-facing surface to break up the volume and reduce the visual height of the car. It may be a bit snick-snacky with the swage-flare, but it is distinctive, and distinction is hard to find in a class whose values are so convergent.

Speaking of convergence… the interior. Sorry, but Jag really needs to sort this out. The basic counter-sunk volume is fine (the dashboard sits below a wrap-around cowl), but the detailing and organization of the vents and switchgear and trim is just so underwhelming. A lot of this has to do with money: there is only so much, and engines, new platforms and marketing will have eaten great chunks of Tata’s dowry. But spare a thought for the place where you sit. Indeed spare a thought for Jags of yore with wood and chrome, not cheap leather with miserly scrim. I don’t want to sound bearded: the BMW i3 shows how this can be done in a contemporary manner.

Maybe there could have been more sculpture; maybe a little –just a bit –more originality, but this was always going to be business case first, designer whim second. It doesn’t matter. Nepotistic British press will ensure the car sits (wins!) in every group test, and there is enough Bavarian to lure the rest.

2014 Fiat FCC4 Concept Deserves A Double Take

IF YOU dismiss this car as another stylized concept, I urge you to look again. A premium brand based in, say, south-east Germany could do a lot worse than the sculptural surfaces of Fiat's new pick-up. Penned in South America, it would not be too great a stretch to call the FCC4 the most conceptually advanced pick-up-cum-ute yet.

Why all this fuss? Because if you doubled it in size and plonked it in the States with an electric engine and Chrysler badge, you would draw the attention of Ram fans and F150-ers who daren’t touch a four-door. This is not to be sniffed at. Audi and Tesla would never do a vehicle so utilitarian in concept: it jars with their concept of premiumness. Yet this is a market worth $70 billion per annum! If only there were a way to court these wrinkled dollars without losing face…

Enter troubled Fiat, creating a pick-up with a dramatic sealed deck and teardrop glass canopy that sweeps through free-standing pillars. You could call it a ute in profile, but step closer and this is family fast-back in execution: this car has no intention of visiting a construction site. It is a clever mix; an ambiguous figure, if you will. That is, an illustration that changes its identity according to how it is viewed. It is a hard thing to execute. When you see a conventional sedan from 100 yards, it remains a sedan at 10 yards: at the same distances, the Fiat changes from pick-up to hatchback.

Whichever way you look at the FCC4, one thing is for certain: Fiat’s future in South America looks assured.

2015 Renault Espace Raises Its Game

R.I.P VANS with seats, long live… just what is the Espace exactly? It started off so simply: the first generation made us understand that there was more space than a normal car, that the engine occupied a smaller space and that this probably wasn’t a driver's car. Visibility was excellent, and inside we found more seats than usual. The first Renault MPV was a pleasant surprise.

That was a purely proportional and architectural association, before feature and form implied status and emotions. The new Espace has grown curves out of no-where and the rocker is now knee-height. This, a feature that was once conceived to be stepped upon! But it does not matter, because the result is extremely impressive. The car needed to change, because the world changed around it. Customers now assume the versatility, so the design has to not just stand like a first-gen wall-flower, but engage and convince. This is not easy, and it is why Renault has propagated the crossover trend.

This used to be something rare: a Freelander here, a RAV4 there. Now we live in a world where the Opel Adam Rocks channels the spirit of the Suzuki X90. How can Renault stand by and idly watch as its flagship capsizes without use of inflatables? And inflated is what best describes the shoulder. And the arches. The effect of the raised rocker is to minimize the distance between it and the centre-line, making the car appear sleeker. Renault has also steered around the tendency to add wedge to the shoulder line; indeed the near parallel roof, shoulder, rocker elongates the car, suiting the styling to high speed rather than highly accelerative travel. I like it. It is calming, and steadying.

Who would have thought a mainstream brand that focused on families could be a niche? Yet Renault has done it better than anyone, and a big part of the success is understanding the brand and executing those sculptural surfaces. These are forms that demand to be touched, encouraging a physical connection with the car, while acting as a metaphor for the intimacy of family. In a market where the precision of creases is shorthand for premium, Renault has concentrated on volumes, lending affordable cars authenticity in place of pretension.

But I feel a trick has been missed. The new Espace does much to justify its place in the Renault range and on the shopping-lists of families, yet the final push to Volvo XC90 levels of usability has been shied away from. This is ironic as the Swedish SUV was conceived to offer the flexibility of the French van. Renault might do well to raise the roof, increase accommodation and resurrect the Grand Espace.