Have racing machines begun to overshadow the very elegance that concours events were built to celebrate? A judge argues it’s time to refocus on style over speed.
When Speed Outshines Elegance
At this year’s Concorso d’Eleganza Villa d’Este on Lake Como, the jury crowned a 1934 Alfa Romeo Tipo B (P3) – a single-seat Grand Prix racing car – as Best of Show. Across the Atlantic, something similar happened at Pebble Beach 2024, where a 1934 Bugatti Type 59, a pure racing machine, was awarded Best of Show in the preservation class.
Both of these are undeniably extraordinary automobiles, revered for their engineering and their competition pedigree. But they were created to win races, not to seduce with beauty. The fact that they are now taking top honors at events supposedly dedicated to elegance should give us pause.
Racing Cars vs. Concours Tradition
Let’s revisit what Concours d’Elegance actually means: a competition of elegance. Historically, this was not about speed, trophies, or lap records. It was about design, about craftsmanship, about the art of coachbuilding. The great design houses – Castagna, Sala, Pininfarina, Ghia – created masterpieces not to break records, but to capture beauty in motion.
The cars that traditionally won Best of Show were rolling sculptures. Think of a Isotta Fraschini Tipo 8A with Castagna bodywork: long, flowing, formal, majestic. Now imagine awarding that Isotta the top trophy in a hill climb event like the Susa-Moncenisio. Ridiculous? That’s exactly how it feels when a purpose-built race car wins Best of Show at a concours.
It’s a category error. Racing cars are designed with function first; elegance is, at best, incidental. A Concours d’Elegance, by definition, is a place to celebrate form, not function. To choose a Grand Prix car as the most elegant machine on display is to confuse significance with beauty.
The Case for Keeping Racing in Its Lane
To be clear: I love racing cars. They belong at concours. They deserve their classes, their spotlights, and their applause. But they should not take the top prize at events designed to reward grace, not grit.
The highest award – Best of Show – should go to the car that most fully embodies the aesthetic ideal. That’s not to say racing machines can’t be striking, even beautiful in their honesty and purpose. But their appeal is different. Their stories are built on performance and provenance, not proportion and poise.
When a stripped-down, battle-scarred Alfa or Bugatti edges out a one-off Vignale-bodied Ferrari or a Ghia-designed dream car for Best of Show, something has gone wrong. We are no longer judging by elegance. We are awarding heroic backstories, racing pedigree, and sometimes, media buzz. That’s not what concours were meant to be.
Are We Redefining Elegance?
I’ve heard the argument that concours must evolve. That we need to keep things fresh, appeal to younger audiences, honor preservation and performance. And yes, there’s truth to that.
But we must not lose the core identity of these events. We are not running motorsports museums. We are not staging endurance trials. We are supposed to be presenting the art of the automobile. By repeatedly placing racing cars at the top of the podium, we risk rewriting the meaning of elegance itself.
Some of these cars – magnificent as they are – were never intended to be beautiful. They were made to be effective, brutal, and fast. Their victories are on the track, not on the red carpet. That distinction matters.
A Call to Return to Design Purity
As a current judge and lifelong enthusiast, I know I am not alone in feeling this. I’ve spoken with fellow jurors, historians, and journalists. Many of us are concerned. We celebrate these racing machines, but we worry when they are elevated above vehicles that were created with the singular purpose of being beautiful.
Elegance must be the guiding principle. Not lap records. Not horsepower. Not survival stories from Le Mans or Monaco. Let racing cars compete and shine – in their category. But let design purity reign when it comes to Best of Show.
To my fellow judges, I say this: Let’s course-correct. Let’s defend the values that made concours events so meaningful. Let’s honor the vision of the coachbuilders, the artisans, the sculptors in metal and leather who gave us these timeless shapes.
Let the Alfa P3 and Bugatti Type 59 be celebrated – but not as winners of the elegance crown. Reserve that for the cars that were born to be beautiful.
If we don’t, we risk turning the Concours d’Elegance into a Concours de Performance, and in doing so, we’ll lose something priceless.
Let’s keep elegance at the center. Where it belongs.
