Foreword by Claude Figoni

During my childhood, and thanks to my father Joseph Figoni, I had the great privilege of being part of the life of a coachbuilding shop. This extraordinary activity took place among exceptional companions—the designers of the “grand plans”, the woodworkers, metal workers, painters and saddlers.

I still remember today my father’s words as he sculpted his maquettes in modelling clay: “It is necessary to pay meticulous attention to the behavior of the wisps of air that flow between the wheel covers and the hood, and then lower their profile to reduce the wind resistance of the headlights. You must also play attention to the curve of the hood.” All this aerodynamic work is enhanced when you use delicate finishing touches such as chrome hubcaps.

When the metal panel work was ready, my father would ask me to stand in front of the coachwork and carefully examine all its angles to see if I could find any mistakes. I would then pass on my observations.

His creations were always distinguished by his great attention to style and to the principles of aerodynamics. This signature look led to his being known in the press as the “Great Couturier of the Automobile”. Today his designs are still in fashion, and the years have not diminished their originality and true elegance.

Talbot-Lago T150-C-SS – Chassis 90107, designed by Joseph Figoni:

The car was ordered by the Maharajah of Khapurthala for his daughter, the Maharani of Khapurthala, who kept it in Paris and Nice before World War II, showing it in various Concours of the time. The Maharani’s English name was Princess Stella de Khapurthala. The color scheme of the car was changed several times in its early history to complement the gowns of the Maharani, and won a prize in the Concours d’Elegance Femina on June 24, 1938.

This automobile is unique because it has an all aluminum body. It is also equipped with a sunroof and has painted rather than chrome wire wheels, and comes with a crocodile skin covered dashboard. It is the only Tear Drop currently known to exist with front fender skirts. The car was driven continuously throughout its life until stored by its last owner, Lindley Locke, in the late 1950s.

Luigi Chinetti, the representative of Figoni & Falaschi and Talbot-Lago in Europe, imported the car into the United States for Tommy Lee in 1939. Phil Hill, the famous race car driver, remembers the car coming into International Motors in Hollywood for service, while he was working there as a young mechanic and before his racing career took off. The car’s nickname among the mechanics, according to Phil, was “Pants” because of the front fender skirts, called “enveloppantes” by Figoni.

Marcel Pourtout and the Carrosserie Pourtout:

The reputation of Carrosserie Pourtout steadily grew and so did his list of customers. The rich and famous bought their chassis from their favorite manufacturers and shipped them to Pourtout for a custom design. Georges Clémenceau, Prime Minister of France from 1917 to 1920, owned a Pourtout-bodied car; Mr. André Embiricos, a Greek banker living in Paris, owned the Pourtout-bodied Embiricos Bentley. Up to the outbreak of World War II, Pourtout worked on the top equipment of the day. Bugatti, Voisin, Ballot, Minerva, Delage, Hispano- Suiza, Delahaye, Delaunay-Belleville, Talbot-Lago, Peugeot and Buick all carried Pourtout bodies.

In 1933, he met the third member of the team: Georges Paulin, who much preferred working on advanced aerodynamic designs to his profession as a dental technician in the suburb of Rueil-Malmaison. In 1935, Darl’mat, Paulin and Pourtout combined their talents to produce the revolutionary Peugeot 601. The writer Marcel Pagnol, author of “Jean de Florette” and other best-selling novels, ordered the car that featured Paulin’s “Eclipse” design for a retractable steel roof. Claude Pourtout, nine years old at the time, recalls: “I also worked on the first Peugeot 601, with Roger Raven at the shop. I helped screw the chrome trim on the door handles.”

The Embiricos Bentley, Chassis B-27-LE, designed by Georges Paulin:

There were rumblings at the Rolls-Royce factory at Derby. True, their Bentley cars were handsome and reliable, and the roster of their famous owners was dazzling, but the marque was in dire need of a face lift. Suggestions, followed by complaints, started coming across the Channel from Walter Sleator, owner of the Franco Britannic Garage and representative of Rolls- Royce in Paris. France was in the midst of a design revolution, with Bugatti, Figoni & Falaschi, Talbot-Lago and others producing streamlined cars that could easily outperform the British models. Sleator was surrounded by avant garde designers passionately promoting the efficacy and beauty of the new lines, and he felt Bentley was falling behind. Additional pressure was provided by the development of the Chrysler Airflow, which although not a commercial success was pointing the way to the future. As a result, E. W. Hives, who would soon become General Works Manager at Rolls-Royce, and W.A. Robotham, his assistant in the Experimental Department, took a trip in April 1936 to Brooklands, where they observed the performance and lines of the new Dubonnet Dolphin car, designed by Jean Andreau. They returned to Derby determined to set aside funds to do wind tunnel experimentation to verify the benefits of aerodynamic design.

There was of course resistance: fast streamlined cars were considered useless on England’s narrow winding roads, in contrast to Europe where the new German Autobahn and French roads allowed for much higher speeds; the Bentley radiator, such a critical part of the marque’s identity, would have to be modified; there were problems with the gear box; and so on. After many twists and turns, it was decided to entrust the project—and the risk, if it failed—to Walter Sleator in France. In August 1936, Sleator approached the Greek banker and shipbuilder, André M. Embiricos, a long standing client of Rolls-Royce and a great lover of cars, with a proposal for a new car. Embiricos had seen and admired the work of designer Georges Paulin and, subject to certain technical specifications for the car, agreed to Sleator’s terms. Paulin in turn put forward his colleague Marcel Pourtout as the coach builder, and work started in earnest.

Georges Paulin – Designer, Stylist and Member of the French Resistance:

Paulin’s friend Walter Sleator, of the Franco-Britannic Garage, left France and moved to Spain, and worked on behalf of British Intelligence from the British Embassy in Madrid. There are reports that during the course of the war he would appear unannounced from time to time at the Derby factory, having flown over in a Lysander. Four days after France and Germany signed their Armistice Agreement, agents of the French Fighting Forces, acting directly with the British Intelligence Service, formed the Resistance network code-named “Alibi”. The network had 450 agents operating in 20 small cells with about 15 radio transmitters. It was aided by an American diplomat posted to the Vichy Government, who supplied the group with money and radio transmitters. He then sent the intelligence gathered by “Alibi” to the Allies via the diplomatic pouch.

In September 1940 Georges Paulin was approached by Jean Schoofs, the Belgian brother in law of Walter Sleator, acting on behalf of British Intelligence. Georges was asked to join “Alibi” and work for the Allies. After some thought, and in spite of his fears for his family, he agreed, and later told his brother Lucien-Vincent of his decision. His job was to make precise drawings of installations and armaments, and this involved traveling from place to place. At one point he was almost caught in the Paris Metro: he got off the train carrying a clandestine radio transmitter and to his horror found the station exits blocked by military men. In a flash, he convinced an elderly flower vendor to help him, stashed the radio at the bottom of her basket of blooms, and walked out with her to safety and a well-earned glass of cognac. The information he gathered was entrusted to a French railway worker, who turned up periodically at Durenberger’s office to get his teeth “fixed” by Georges, picked up the documents and took them on the train through France to Spain, where they found their way to the British.

Jean Andreau – Engineer in Aerodynamics:

“Is it a bird? A dolphin? An airplane?” The designs of Jean Andreau often provoked such exclamations from a startled public, but nothing distracted him from creating wonderful mechanical innovations throughout his life. Andreau was a pioneer in the science of aerodynamics and strongly influenced the design of many of the automobiles featured in this book. His focus was theoretical, based upon his science and engineering background, and although he gave life to an entire movement, he was not publicly recognized for these designs. These were carried out by major manufacturers such as Citroën and Peugeot as well as premier marques such as Delahaye, Delage and Talbot-Lago. Therefore, while his contribution to aerodynamic design is critical, his name remains relatively unknown.

The Delage D8-120 Aérosport – Chassis 51763:

The D8 120 Aérosport is an exquisite example of streamlined tear drop styling and one of the most beautiful French cars of the era. It was first introduced at the Paris Salon in October 1936 for the 1937 model year.

The car was bodied by Letourneur & Marchand on a Delage chassis, and in my view the design of the Aérosport clearly shows the influence of Andreau’s Labourdette-bodied Delage V-12 and Jean Bugatti’s 1935 “Aérolithe” prototype. You can see this legacy in the lines of the rear section and the pillar-less side windows. In contrast to Figoni, who delighted in emphasizing his designs with various colors, in this car the bright work is limited to an Art Deco beltline accent starting at the radiator and dipping into the rear skirted fender. Thus the design was allowed to speak for itself and paint schemes were conservative and usually single colored. The pillarless side window (designated “coupé panoramic”) ends with its own signature shape flowing from the roofline and tapering down into the rear fender.

© Richard S. Adatto, 2003. All rights reserved. With the exception of quoting brief passages for the purposes of review, no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage or retrieval system without written permission from the Publisher.