Cheers Eric
June 24, 2008
Prince Eric Sturdza tells Jason Barlow why he's hooked on Morgans, then invites him to drive his new Aeromax around Lake Como
'Hammond has ordered one. He is, therefore, a complete git'
Bankers, Swiss or otherwise, are not currently flavour-of-the-month. But Prince Eric Sturdza, a
descendant of the Moldavian royal family, former pro tennis player and now President of Barings Bank in Geneva, shares our irritation. "I would never expose my clients to the sort of risk that some other banks have engaged in. That's why I'm still here". No sub-prime shenanigans for him, then. Or us. We're at the Villa d'Este Concorso d'Eleganza, Europe's premier classic car concours event, on the shore of Lake Como. Postcodes rarely come any fancier than this. George Clooney has a house just up the road, and helicopters buzz above the water's smooth expanse. Water that's teeming with gleaming Riva Aquarama boats. Men like Sturdza glide effortlessly through this kind of world, as well-connected as they are well-heeled. Many have paid
telephone-number-style sums for the most revered Ferraris, Bugattis and Maseratis. Some cut a flamboyant swathe; others are discreet to the point of carefully crafted invisibility. Sturdza is the latter. He's on our radar not because of bouffant Euro hair or supermodel arm candy, but because he has a serious penchant for a tiddly British car manufacturer: Morgan. He's helped bankroll the company's increasingly successful GT3 endurance racing campaign, and owns countless road cars. More recently, though, the relationship has deepened. Back in 2004, Prince Eric decided he rather liked the idea of a proper Aero 8 coupe, and asked Charles Morgan - current boss and grandson of H.F.S. Morgan – to give it some thought. In an echo of the classic Italian carrozzeria tradition, here was a commission to build a genuinely bespoke car. The gently self-deprecatory Morgan takes up the story.>'When I first saw it, I have to admit it was nothing like I expected. But I still loved it'
"Eric liked the idea of an Aero 8 GT, something in the spirit of a Tour de France Ferrari. He's a great friend to the company, and I don't know what we'd do without him, to be honest. Anyway,
he suggested this car, and thought it would be a great thing to have at the Geneva motor show. In the meantime, Matt Humphries, now our designer, had been bombarding me with sketches he'd been doing before he'd even graduated from the design course at Coventry University. I thought, 'This kid's a genius!' So I asked him to work up an Aero 8 coupe. Eric paid for us to do a prototype – I didn't overcharge him, before you ask - and the Aeromax is the result." "When I first saw it," Sturdza continues, "I have to admit it was nothing like I expected. But I still loved it." Enough, in fact, to order four of them – "two manual cars, and two automatics," he confirms - although the other 96 Maxes in a production run strictly limited to 100 were all quickly snapped up. Prospective owners include the likes of Rowan Atkinson, Paul O'Grady and some bloke called Richard Hammond. "About 150 people contacted the factory,"
says Charles Morgan, "and I phoned 80 of them back to carry out an impromptu customer survey. You know, what would they pay, how many should we make, what sort of spec would they like. We didn’t wait long for the deposits to arrive." Once again, Morgan's famously arse-about-face methodology - remember the late Sir John Harvey-Jones's programme Troubleshooter? - has paid dividends. Sturdza could probably buy the company 10 times over, but he prefers things the way they are, and, besides, Charles Morgan doesn’t want to sell. Yet. "We've received various offers over the years," he says mysteriously. So while Noble, TVR and others have slithered sideways into oblivion, Morgan prevails and prospers. It's still entirely family run, debt-free, and turning a tidy profit. Why? Because few other companies in the world have a better understanding of their customer. Sir Alan Sugar, reality telly's businessman du jour, would be impressed.
he suggested this car, and thought it would be a great thing to have at the Geneva motor show. In the meantime, Matt Humphries, now our designer, had been bombarding me with sketches he'd been doing before he'd even graduated from the design course at Coventry University. I thought, 'This kid's a genius!' So I asked him to work up an Aero 8 coupe. Eric paid for us to do a prototype – I didn't overcharge him, before you ask - and the Aeromax is the result." "When I first saw it," Sturdza continues, "I have to admit it was nothing like I expected. But I still loved it." Enough, in fact, to order four of them – "two manual cars, and two automatics," he confirms - although the other 96 Maxes in a production run strictly limited to 100 were all quickly snapped up. Prospective owners include the likes of Rowan Atkinson, Paul O'Grady and some bloke called Richard Hammond. "About 150 people contacted the factory,"
says Charles Morgan, "and I phoned 80 of them back to carry out an impromptu customer survey. You know, what would they pay, how many should we make, what sort of spec would they like. We didn’t wait long for the deposits to arrive." Once again, Morgan's famously arse-about-face methodology - remember the late Sir John Harvey-Jones's programme Troubleshooter? - has paid dividends. Sturdza could probably buy the company 10 times over, but he prefers things the way they are, and, besides, Charles Morgan doesn’t want to sell. Yet. "We've received various offers over the years," he says mysteriously. So while Noble, TVR and others have slithered sideways into oblivion, Morgan prevails and prospers. It's still entirely family run, debt-free, and turning a tidy profit. Why? Because few other companies in the world have a better understanding of their customer. Sir Alan Sugar, reality telly's businessman du jour, would be impressed.Better still, in the Aeromax, Morgan has produced a seriously good car. An unofficial gatecrasher at the Villa d'Este, the Max is so eye-catching that it almost upstages what amounts to a collection of the best cars on the planet. This is no mean feat, especially for a company best known for producing - very slowly indeed - vintage cars for people with vintage facial hair. In fact, with a Bugatti Type 57 Atlantic on display just round the corner, the Aeromax's resemblance to a car that many regard as possibly the finest ever made is surely no
coincidence. "We wanted to create a 21st-century coach-built car," says Humphries. “Imagine what it was like seeing a Delahaye or Delage driving down Sunset Boulevard in the Thirties or Forties. You’d think, 'It’s beautiful but what is it?"'This is a good question. Where to start? Once the crowd of highly emotional onlookers dissipates (Italian politics may be many things, but you just know that this country will never produce a car-denier like Ken Livingstone), it turns out that the front is as good a place as any. History may well record the original Aero 8 as an acquired taste, mainly because few automotive beauty parades will ever include a car that was genuinely boss-eyed. Happily, the Aeromax's Mini headlights help rectify the older car's apparently wonky vision. Then there are those trademark flowing front wings and running boards. Personally I don’t get ersatz 'vintage' cars - they were particularly popular in the late Seventies and early Eighties; older readers might remember the Panther Kallista among others - with all their implied 'it-were-better-in-my-day-motoring' nostalgia. Somehow, though, the sheer barminess of the Aeromax lifts it onto a whole new level. It's baroque, but restrained baroque. The fact that those same flowing wings are aluminium and formed via a time-consuming hi-tech process that heats the aluminium alloy to a semi-molten state adds to the impression that there's more to this car than meets the eye.>'Happily, the Aeromax's Mini headlights help rectify the older car's apparently wonky vision'
Especially when you get to the back, the most modern bit of bodywork any Morgan has had since the time Noah thought a boat might be a good idea for riding out the heavy rain that had been forecast. What a shape. Simultaneously retro and futuristic, there's something cinematic about the Aeromax's curvy butt: Blade Runner meets
Metropolis, with a definite nod to the Gothic modernism of the original Tim Burton Batman movie. Film fans will appreciate that these aren't just idle references; they were the work of the most gifted visual stylists in cinema.The striking rear LEDs are borrowed from the Lancia Thesis. The split rear glass is all Morgan’s own work. This prototype has rear-exit exhausts, though side-pipes are an option, and apparently sound fruitier. The car also has a flat underbelly, and something similar to, but not quite, a rear venturi. Sturdza nevertheless claims to have seen an indicated 190mph on the autobahn, and says the car generates impressive high-speed downforce. Charles Morgan, meanwhile, reckons the Aeromax has more grip than an Audi R8. The company’s racing exploits certainly seem to have boosted their confidence. Sturdza and Morgan are both tall blokes, so it's a bit surprising to discover that the driving position is cramped if you happen to be over six foot. The doors themselves are pretty tiny too, and there are fat sills to clamber over, so getting in and out is inelegant (knickerless LA airheads should stick to their Merc SLs). There’s ample headroom though, so if you happen to have a huge head but short arms and legs, look no further. Morgan has spent a small fortune homologating its cars and meeting all sorts of annoying legislation.
Metropolis, with a definite nod to the Gothic modernism of the original Tim Burton Batman movie. Film fans will appreciate that these aren't just idle references; they were the work of the most gifted visual stylists in cinema.The striking rear LEDs are borrowed from the Lancia Thesis. The split rear glass is all Morgan’s own work. This prototype has rear-exit exhausts, though side-pipes are an option, and apparently sound fruitier. The car also has a flat underbelly, and something similar to, but not quite, a rear venturi. Sturdza nevertheless claims to have seen an indicated 190mph on the autobahn, and says the car generates impressive high-speed downforce. Charles Morgan, meanwhile, reckons the Aeromax has more grip than an Audi R8. The company’s racing exploits certainly seem to have boosted their confidence. Sturdza and Morgan are both tall blokes, so it's a bit surprising to discover that the driving position is cramped if you happen to be over six foot. The doors themselves are pretty tiny too, and there are fat sills to clamber over, so getting in and out is inelegant (knickerless LA airheads should stick to their Merc SLs). There’s ample headroom though, so if you happen to have a huge head but short arms and legs, look no further. Morgan has spent a small fortune homologating its cars and meeting all sorts of annoying legislation.This probably explains the ugly, off-the-shelf airbagged steering wheel, but the rest of the cabin is nicely atmospheric. There are BMW stalks, buttons and trip computer, and a simple array of dials. The interior door-handles are from the Mini. Nestled in the middle of the dash is a row of push-buttons, including a starter button and another which operates the boot release. What this actually does is trigger those two bits of rear window, which shoot open at an alarming
velocity, stopping just as they threaten to smash into each other. They don't do much for your rear vision either, though Humphries insists there's a good reason for the 'spinal' split. "Like the Aero 8, the Aeromax has a laminated ash frame chassis, with the aluminium panels laid over the top. The car's skeleton and spine are key structural elements, and I wanted to turn them into a styling feature: exposing the internals in the same way that some modernist architecture does." After all that, it's easy to forget that the very latest version of BMW's 385bhp 4.8-litre V8 is squeezed under that long bonnet, complete with all the recent software upgrades. The transmission is ZF's excellent six-speed auto, though a manual 'box is also available. The Aeromax, like all Morgans, is fashionably light, just 1,150kg. Remember, the Conti GT weighs more than double that. Surprising, then, to find that the Max feels a little lethargic at start-up. Instead of the expected whip-crack throttle response, the revs rise in a rather lazy arc. Then again, it is an auto, and this particular car is due some mapping tweaks. Slide the BMW gear-lever into D - do it gently, or risk a worrying thunk from the transmission - and ease away. The view ahead across the louvred bonnet and over those sculpted wings is unique and actually rather daunting to start with; it takes time to figure out exactly where the car's extremities are.
velocity, stopping just as they threaten to smash into each other. They don't do much for your rear vision either, though Humphries insists there's a good reason for the 'spinal' split. "Like the Aero 8, the Aeromax has a laminated ash frame chassis, with the aluminium panels laid over the top. The car's skeleton and spine are key structural elements, and I wanted to turn them into a styling feature: exposing the internals in the same way that some modernist architecture does." After all that, it's easy to forget that the very latest version of BMW's 385bhp 4.8-litre V8 is squeezed under that long bonnet, complete with all the recent software upgrades. The transmission is ZF's excellent six-speed auto, though a manual 'box is also available. The Aeromax, like all Morgans, is fashionably light, just 1,150kg. Remember, the Conti GT weighs more than double that. Surprising, then, to find that the Max feels a little lethargic at start-up. Instead of the expected whip-crack throttle response, the revs rise in a rather lazy arc. Then again, it is an auto, and this particular car is due some mapping tweaks. Slide the BMW gear-lever into D - do it gently, or risk a worrying thunk from the transmission - and ease away. The view ahead across the louvred bonnet and over those sculpted wings is unique and actually rather daunting to start with; it takes time to figure out exactly where the car's extremities are.>'The view ahead across the bonnet and over those sculpted wings is unique and actually rather daunting'
There are a few other initial disappointments. With equal- length wishbones all round and the latest Bilstein shocks, there’s nothing vintage about the Aeromax's suspension, but it’s not much good at filtering out bumps and ridges, certainly at low speeds. Charles Morgan had warned me that the prototype had a 'harsh' ride quality, and the 19in wheels and comparatively skinny tyres don’t help. Variable rate shock absorbers probably would.I'd also go for the
manual box. The auto Max responds best in 'tiptronic' mode, which suggests that this is a car that needs to be driven – unsurprisingly - in the old school way; clutch, throttle blip, change down, stroke beard satisfied with a job well done. Because once we're up and running, this outrageous-looking Morgan turns into an absolute blast. It might be a grunty V8, but this is an engine that needs a big bootful of revs, and once you've figured that out, you're looking at one seriously fast car. Pretty soon we're reeling in the endless hairpins and switchbacks that stud this poetically beautiful lake shore; the Aeromax is front mid-engined, has the optimum weight distribution and, despite all appearances to the contrary, it devours the road in a way that is very similar to the Audi R8. The brakes are good too; a bit dead to start with, but capable of gut-busting retardation once you've worked out how to use them properly. Excellent steering also; an unfashionably meaty electro-hydraulic set-up borrowed from BMW. Having upstaged some of the world's most beautiful cars, pretty soon the Aeromax is upstaging some of the planet's finest scenery. Above all else, this car is a (capital-letter) Experience. It also costs £110,000, which is a lot, but largely irrelevant,given that Aeromax production is sold out. Besides, that buys you a truly special motor car. It's also further proof that Charles Morgan’s modernising gamble is paying off. Where next, then? "We're only half-way through our journey," he says. "We'll do something very interesting." And that you can bank on.
manual box. The auto Max responds best in 'tiptronic' mode, which suggests that this is a car that needs to be driven – unsurprisingly - in the old school way; clutch, throttle blip, change down, stroke beard satisfied with a job well done. Because once we're up and running, this outrageous-looking Morgan turns into an absolute blast. It might be a grunty V8, but this is an engine that needs a big bootful of revs, and once you've figured that out, you're looking at one seriously fast car. Pretty soon we're reeling in the endless hairpins and switchbacks that stud this poetically beautiful lake shore; the Aeromax is front mid-engined, has the optimum weight distribution and, despite all appearances to the contrary, it devours the road in a way that is very similar to the Audi R8. The brakes are good too; a bit dead to start with, but capable of gut-busting retardation once you've worked out how to use them properly. Excellent steering also; an unfashionably meaty electro-hydraulic set-up borrowed from BMW. Having upstaged some of the world's most beautiful cars, pretty soon the Aeromax is upstaging some of the planet's finest scenery. Above all else, this car is a (capital-letter) Experience. It also costs £110,000, which is a lot, but largely irrelevant,given that Aeromax production is sold out. Besides, that buys you a truly special motor car. It's also further proof that Charles Morgan’s modernising gamble is paying off. Where next, then? "We're only half-way through our journey," he says. "We'll do something very interesting." And that you can bank on.