As I drove across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge toward Easton, Maryland, I took stock of the cars around me — egg-shaped forms in olive and jewel tones, wide-eyed and listless, like goldfish. A Tesla Destroyer (or whatever it’s called) loomed in my rearview.
I needed to escape Washington for a bit, and a call came from a curious little museum on the Eastern Shore about an equally curious exhibition on the Bugatti family, featuring Art Nouveau furniture, bronze animal sculptures — and four pristine pre-World War II vintage automobiles. I had to see it.
At the Academy Art Museum through April 13, “Bugatti: Reaching for Perfection” tells the story of three generations of genius, ambition and astounding creativity.
It begins in Milan with patriarch Carlo Bugatti (1856-1940), who trained as an architect but focused on domestic design, producing furniture so intricate and fanciful that it was barely functional. One bench on display flaunts a unique geometric dragonfly motif in copper punchwork that exists solely to edge the backrest. Carlo’s work blends Art Nouveau with Moorish, Islamic and Japanese influences, using an astounding range of materials that come together as a kind of majestic proto-Futurism.
Carlo’s younger son, Rembrandt Bugatti (1884-1916), had a tragically brief yet brilliant career as a sculptor of animals. Studying live subjects for years in zoos, Rembrandt acquired a near-musical sense of movement and form that gives his work the playful virtuosity of Honoré Daumier, fused with the emotional depth of Auguste Rodin. I could have spent hours in reverie with his elephant, his baboon or his cows. (I know how that sounds. I don’t care.) Sadly, he died by suicide in 1916.
While Carlo and Rembrandt earned acclaim in their lifetimes, it was the elder son, Ettore Bugatti (1881-1947), who immortalized the family name with his automobiles — designed as much for artistry as for speed. From an early age, Ettore excelled in engineering, pioneering the idea of placing the driver and engine low in the chassis. He built his first car, the Type 10, in his basement while still under contract at a German automotive firm. Light as a feather (around 800 pounds) yet capable of hitting 50 mph, it was a radical achievement for its day.
By 1909, Ettore founded Automobiles Ettore Bugatti in Molsheim, and his son Jean (1909–1939) soon joined him, while still in his teens. Racing became their proving ground, showing off both beauty and performance. Two of Ettore’s gems on display — a straight-8 supercharged Type 39A Grand Prix car and a 16-cylinder Type 45 — offer a riveting peek at his groundbreaking designs and obsessive precision.
Bugatti also produced luxury touring cars, often designed by Jean. A contract for high-speed trains using unsold engines from the famed Type 41 Royale helped buoy Bugatti finances during the Great Depression. A select few “Autorail Bugatti” posters are on view here — the kind of vintage posters that make you want a Campari spritz. By 1936, Jean took over daily operations and continued dazzling the world, culminating in triumphs at the 24 Hours of Le Mans in 1937 and 1939.
Two touring models on display from 1936 — a Type 57 Atalante and a 57SC Atlantic — exude such character and allure that I didn’t know whether to approach them as cars, sculptures or giant tropical birds. It took considerable willpower not to touch the 57SC Atlantic. Its undulating contours are intoxicating, from its riveted “mohawk” right down to its door hinges, striking that perfect balance of the exotic and the familiar. (It is the diametrical opposite of a Tesla Cybertruck.)
“Bugatti: Reaching for Perfection” is enchanting — a sumptuous feast of design, sculpture and mechanical art. After my visit, I tried to see the same hidden artistry in the cars trailing me back to Washington but failed. I simply wished our world looked a little more “Bugatti.”
Bugatti: Reaching for Perfection
Through April 13
Academy Art Museum, 106 South St., Easton, Maryland
academyartmuseum.org