Pininfarina Ferrari P4/5 - Feature

The flat, tiled roof of the Pininfarina design studio in Turin, Italy, is a secret paradise. A short stairway above the third floor and hidden from public view, immortal automobiles appear here almost routinely. Weeks before arriving in this northern Italian city, we'd seen photos of the car standing before us now, and we'd drawn our conclusions, mostly enthusiastic. Yet seen suddenly in three throbbing dimensions, this four-wheeled aggressor seemed to morph before our eyes. Jason Castriota, an energetic native New Yorker and lead designer for Pininfarina special projects, had warned us how different a car can look in real life — and if you doubt it, consider the first Porsche Cayman you witnessed after seeing it only in pictures.

The car on the roof was something called the Ferrari P4/5 by Pininfarina — less formally, "the Glickenhaus car." Castriota and his colleagues also designed Ferrari's controversial new V-12 599GTB Fiorano and the show-stopping MC12-based Maserati Birdcage concept. We'd seen both downstairs — and they beggar the camera. In photos, Castriota's all-white Birdcage is neutral, almost formless. In person, it's one of the most muscular, sensuous automotive shapes ever, ever, ever.

And now the P4/5 is pulling the same trick. The longer we looked, the more bad-ass and pumped it got — a snorting, snuffling beast, restless on its haunches. Something said, "Get back!"

If you plan on seeing this wicked car in person (we'll tell you how you can), bring your upheld lion tamer's chair. (A camera is no defense at all.)

After-School Sports, Italian-Style

The story of the P4/5's conception is appropriately operatic, a tale of intrigue and artifice worthy of Giuseppe Verdi. But first, the background.

As in any long and very successful marriage, the prancing stallion of Ferrari and gracious Pininfarina are bound by ties of convenience and habit. They've weathered distractions and dalliances, and their progeny, dating back to the earliest post-World War II Italian grand-touring cars, are timeless. Then along came the 612 Scaglietti. Begun in 2002 and finalized in 2004, its birth was a wrangle between Ferrari and Pininfarina. When early images of the 612 found their way onto the Internet, the Ferrari faithful were not happy. Some said, "Ah, just look — Pininfarina has lost it!"

Only Ferrari and Pininfarina will ever know how much of the 612 was Ferrari's and how much Pininfarina's. But it would be understandable if Pininfarina wanted to prove it had not lost it. Bene! Pininfarina would do a very special hyper-car — a one-off Enzo-based Ferrari.

To do so, it needed a client.

The Pininfarina Rolodex is bursting with rich classic-car owners. Feelers were put out. However, the classic-car gentry only trust risk-free designs with established value, and few would risk involvement in a secret Pininfarina project that could anger Ferrari. Among world Ferraristi, one particularly wealthy American maverick came to mind — Jim Glickenhaus, 56. The Glickenhaus family's Wall Street investment firm reinvents money daily. And besides having the wherewithal, Glickenhaus is addicted to owning priceless racing cars, among them a former Donohue Lola T70, a former McLaren/Donohue Ford Mk IV, and three Ferrari racers — a 1967 330 P3/4, a 1967 412P, and a 1947 Tipo 166 Spyder Corsa, the oldest Ferrari in existence. Nice collection.

But Jim Glickenhaus takes it a step further. He, gawdamighty, drives them on the street! Concerning the Pininfarina P4/5 (a one-up on Glickenhaus's 1967 P3/4, get it?), Glickenhaus is clear: "I just wanted to do it — I don't care what anyone thinks."

Sold.

Glickenhaus is utterly crackers for Ferrari's voluptuous 1967 330 P3/4, arguably the most beautiful sports-racing car in history, and Castriota's first drawings of the new car evoked the P3/4. But the design began evolving away from the retro P-car toward an original design that looked forward while also looking back. And Glickenhaus wasn't sure he liked it. But seeing the new drawings, his son, Jesse, and daughter, Veronica, loved them. (Wouldn't you like to argue with your dad about the styling of a secret one-off Ferrari?) Glickenhaus took his kids' enthusiasm seriously. Maybe the car should be more than a homage.