One crease, no apology
Before the first road car carried the shield, the workshop made utility feel unstoppable. In Sant’Agata Bolognese, a small team treated sheet metal like a drawing surface: one hard fold, one clean shadow, no curve left to explain the machine.
That decision still reads clearly in the cockpit: black instruments, gold hairlines, and a yellow field that refuses to recede. It is a visual argument that speed can be designed before the engine turns, encoded in every vent, angle, and measured gap.
The result was not decoration but discipline: a body line pulled taut until motion became a stance.