“In the beginning, in September-October 2010, we started with many different quarter-scale design concepts,” he explains. “My desire was to give a strong and very modern, futuristic taste and approach to the car – because we knew this car would be a manifesto for Ferrari. We knew we had to create a milestone.”
To do that, says Manzoni, the relationship between the car’s engineers and its designers had to be closer than ever before. “The interaction between the Ferrari design team and the engineering team was immediately strong, right from the beginning,” he says.
“To start with, we had a technical model developed by the pre-engineering department. It was a functional model representing all the needs regarding aerodynamics and so on, and the original idea was also to keep the car very small.
“But it wasn’t very nice to look at,” admits Manzoni. “It was a bit brutal, a little bit primitive. But once we understood the complexities of the aerodynamics of the car – for instance, the pressure to create airflow towards the side of the car and to the radiators – we could move forwards.”
So does Manzoni feel that he needs to be an engineer as well as a designer nowadays to be able to create a car like LaFerrari? “No,” he says firmly. “But I’m an architect, and I’m very passionate about these things. And anyway, if you don’t understand the specific needs of every single part of the car technically and aerodynamically, it’s difficult to make a car like this very beautiful. You cannot do it, basically.”
As the project progressed, so did the desire from everyone at Ferrari – right up to and including company chairman Luca di Montezemolo – to produce a totally modern but beautiful and dramatic-looking car, and to do so entirely in-house, without the aid of Pininfarina. Any design details that were considered retro or pastiche were instantly cast asunder.
“I didn’t want any kind of retro feeling to the design,” declares Manzoni. “Maybe the feeling from some of the more beautiful Ferraris, perhaps, such as the P3, but overall I didn’t want it to be retro. I’m a designer, so let me look forwards, and not always backwards to the past.”
Eventually, two different design proposals were chosen to pursue from the many different themes that were originally put forward, full-size examples of which occupy pride of place in the museum, side by side with the real thing. The first of these is called Manta, the second Tensostruttura, and both feature all sorts of recognisable details that ended up on the final car.
The distinctive nose of the Manta is all but unchanged for LaFerrari, for example, while the tensioned, tent-like side strakes and ‘lightweight feel’ of much of the Tensostruttura’s side and rear bodywork are also clearly identifiable.
The three of them together look quite magnificent and you can almost sense the evolution of the car as it happened. What’s more intriguing still is the series of design proposals that line the walls behind the full-scale models. These images, explains Manzoni, effectively tell the story of LaFerrari’s creation in a way that’s never been made public before, starting from day one in September 2010 and going right up to that memorable Geneva unveiling on 6 March this year.
Whether you love, like or loathe the end result – the sheer boldness of LaFerrari’s styling is unlikely to meet with universal approval – the fact that you can wander into the Ferrari museum, hand over €13 and bask in the story of its creation is proof of a tectonic shift in attitude at Ferrari. In the old days there were too many closed doors, too many secrets that had to be kept. At one time, the rest of the world simply wasn’t welcome behind the doors to that old factory gate.