For nearly four decades, BMWs design efforts had been guided by prominent, vocal, and strong leadership. Going back to the early 1950s, Albrecht Von Goertz led the charge on the 503 touring coupe and 507 sports roadster. Giovanni Michelotti styled the rear-engined 700 that pulled the company from the clutches of financial disaster. Wilhelm Hofmeister laid the foundation for BMWs design language with the introduction of the New Class in 1961. When he retired in 1970, the company replaced him with Paul Bracq. He further refined the recipe that his predecessor concocted. His tenure saw the introduction of several watershed vehicles, including the E12 5-series, E21 3-series, and 1972 Turbo Concept.

Bracq did all of this in just 4 years at the helm, and when he left for Peugeot in 1974, they had Claus Luthe waiting in the wings. His stint at NSU saw the release of the rotary-powered Spider and Ro80. These cars didn’t catch on with the public at the time of their release, but BMW hired him because of his innovative and whimsical design solutions. He brought that NSU flair to his new company. On one end, he sharpened the BMW look with the E28 5-series and E30 3-series. Of course, he also wasn’t afraid to experiment. He oversaw the establishment of BMW Technik in 1985, whose first project materialized into the Z1 roadster in 1989.

What some consider to be the pinnacle of the brand’s design efforts came in the form of the E31 8-series. What started out as a successor to the 6-series ended up as something else entirely. It brought back some iconic design traits from past models, such as the Turbo-inspired nose and deformation zone and E30 M3-esque fender flares. It also had a few tricks up its sleeve. Retractable headlamps, a glorious pillarless silhouette, and a kickass set of bucket seats set it apart from everything else the company had ever made up to that point.

The company was reeling off hit after hit, and it didn’t appear they’d be slowing down anytime soon. Luthe was 56 when the E31 debuted at the 1989 Frankfurt Auto Show. He seriously could’ve led the design department for another decade and overseen the development of the brand’s next generation of cars.

It wasn’t meant to be. His time with the company came to an unexpected end in 1990 after he fatally stabbed his son during an altercation. He was convicted of manslaughter and served time in prison. BMW offered him the position upon his release, but he opted for early retirement. And although he would rejoin them as a consultant in 1992, the Claus Luthe era, as well as BMWs golden era, had run its course.

As the company scrambled to find a replacement, they appointed head of interior design Hans Braun to the position. He was more than worthy of holding the position. In the past, he’s contributed to the interiors of the BMW E30 3-Series and E31 8-Series. Even before his time here, he was the longtime interior design chief for Porsche where his contributions included the cockpit of the 928. He certainly had the experience and the credentials to lead their design efforts, but he was just a placeholder. Someone to hold down the fort until they came to a more permanent decision. The person that truly had the final say on matters was product development chief Wolfgang Reitzle.

He grew up in Ulm, Germany, and even as a child, it was obvious to everyone that he had a way with machines. His mother recalled that at the age of four, he could stand at a street corner and tell exactly what kind of car passed by with his eyes closed. When he was a teenager, his own father deferred to him when deciding on what car the family should get. He joined BMW in 1976 after earning his doctorate in engineering. He started out on the shop floor, working on testing equipment and the development of new manufacturing procedures. He excelled in this role, and after just a year of doing this, BMW named him the department chief for testing manufacturing processes and equipment.

His first assignment in this position was to figure out a way to iron out the bugs in the recently-released E23 7-Series. It was a new model from a new factory, and the car suffered from severe reliability issues. He came up with the idea of establishing a “pilot plant” where issues for new models could be found and attended to in a controlled environment. Additionally, he played a key role in the development of the E28 5-series, and management responded by appointing him the head of both engine manufacturing and the foundry of the company.

The next development in his career would come in 1983. Company chairman Eberhard von Kuenheim fired his research and development chief. He took on these duties in addition to his responsibilities as chairman, though this was only a temporary solution. He needed to find someone that could work alongside him and, eventually, grow into the full-time R&D chief. He had his eye on Reitzle initially but hesitated to hand the position to the 34-year-old. He looked outside of the company for a potential successor and brought someone in from the truck manufacturer MAN.

Reitzle made it very clear to Von Kuenheim that he wouldn't work for the new boss. Instead, he convinced his superior to send him to an advanced program at Harvard Business School to show that he could handle the position despite his age. When he returned, von Kuenheim named him the head of all technical operations at BMW. After a year of this setup, the chairman began having second thoughts about his decision. The R&D chief from MAN was panning out like the last one while Reitzle was exceeding expectations in his own role. Von Kuenheim dismissed the MAN engineer, handed vehicle research to another employee, and gave Reitzle full control of car development.

Designer Boyke Boyer was recruited to the company by Claus Luthe in 1978, which is around the same time as Reitzle. He’s worked with the man for decades, and they become more acquainted with one another as Reitzle became more involved in the development process. If there’s anyone that can give an accurate assessment of his tastes, it’s him, and I think he painted a perfect picture of his philosophies when he said the following:

“Reitzle-con is a very traditional man. By that I don’t mean conservative - he is a forward thinker. However, you just have to look at the fountain pen he uses or the watch that he wears to see that his design thinking is traditional.”

The first major project Reitzle had a say in was the E36 3-series. It had been in development since 1981, a few years before he became the head of vehicle development, but he was still able to have some input on it before it was released.

The E36 pulls BMWs design language into the 1990s. Let’s start with the kidneys. They’re highlighted from the rest of the front clip, but it goes about this differently than the E30. That car used contrasting grille detailing, thick brightwork, and a very slight intrusion into the hood to call attention to itself. The E36s are literally pinched up from the rest of the fascia to help it stand out from the other elements. They also get larger, more rectangular, and are separated a bit further apart.

The iconic quad headlights have also changed. On the E30, we could subconsciously interpret them as rectangular elements because they were on the same plane as other rectangular elements. This was reinforced further by the thin, angular grille housing. The removal of the full-length vent on the E36 breaks the upper-level elements up. This area still emphasizes horizontality like its predecessor, but it isn’t as direct or as powerful as its predecessor. The bumper guard has been deprioritized as well. It’s more cleanly integrated with the body and runs the full length of the front end. Lastly, the lights harken back to the E21 and put the blinkers back up top near the lights. They even go back at an obtuse angle.

At the edge of the headlight, we can see the evolution of the character line. It starts for just a moment from there before getting interrupted by the wheel arch. This might not seem very important, but this small crease in the sheet metal makes the car feel lower and is essential to establishing the car's stance. It continues where it left off on the side view and becomes more intense as it goes to the top of the tail light. It attempts to flow to the back of the car, but the tail light juts out just far enough to halt its momentum.

The wedge profile is both dialed-up and toned down here. Its nose doesn't jut out as it does in the E30. It cuts back toward the rear after getting past the door guard. The roof is still flat, but it flows onto a raised rear deck. In fact, the momentum of the car is going downhill. This is in stark contrast to the E30, which has a beltline that is flat from front to back. This is likely an attempt to squeeze a bit more miles out of the car, as it’s more aerodynamic to have a raised deck than one that is level with the front.

Many of these changes would make their way over to the other models in their range. The E38 7-Series entered development in 1988 and saw the light of day in 1994. Some items, like the streamlined headlight design, take heavily from the E36, but it also does a bit to carve out its own identity. The more level slope of the beltline, as well as the longer, flatter third box, establishes more traditional saloon proportions. The character line seamlessly intersects the unit and wraps around the rear. Reitzle’s influence can be seen with the tightened-up tail lights. The E38 mimics the L-shaped tail lights from the E32 with the reverse lights. It doesn’t have the same visual impact, but this is reflective of Reitzle’s more buttoned-up tastes.

The E39 5-Series was released in 1996 and wore the conservative Reitzle styling philosophy in stride. Rounded edges dominate the front end, as indicated by the headlamps, grille, and lower front clip. One small detail that goes a long way is the turn indicator. It curves slightly to emphasize the bulb. It does a little bit from straight on, but the effect is substantially more powerful when viewed from an angle. From the side, the E39 is a smoother rendition of the E36s profile. It shares its low hood and raised deck with its sedan stablemates, but the transitions between the boxes were a bit more fluid. Even the hofmeister kink has been smoothed out. With these three cars, we can see that Reitzle prioritized fundamentally strong designs. The book Driven by David Kiley notes that “Reitzle believes a winning design looks good for at least 15 years.” This may explain the lasting appeal of these cars. The E36, E38, and E39 are some of the most revered in the company’s history today. So it may be hard to imagine that the narrative was completely flipped around in the early 90s.

BMW was derided for its evolutionary approach. In fact, the German media came up with a term to describe their models - ““eine Wurst, drei Größe” — “one sausage, three different lengths.”

This was because the development process was dominated by engineering and finance. Without someone that could truly bring their perspective to the table, the design department was at the very bottom of the totem pole. Boyke Boyer went through some of the tribulations of working for the company during these years in a 2002 interview with Fast Company.

You’d never have a voice at meetings,” Boyer exclaims, waving his hands dismissively. “The attitude was, ‘Oh, those designers, pshh, pshh. They’re nothing but a bunch of picture makers!’

Their colleagues at other automakers definitely took notice. In the Fast Company interview, Boyer went on to say:

“When we’d launch new models at an automobile exhibition, our colleagues from competing companies would come by and say, ‘Are those all of your ideas? What do you do all day?’ We couldn’t tell them that we’d tried radical approaches but they had all been turned down.”

The importance of having a permanent chief of design didn’t escape Wolfgang Reitzle. He spent the better part of two years vetting potential candidates. What he had in mind resembled more of the relationship that he and Von Kuenheim had in the 1980s. Reitzle would still control the vehicle development process. As noted in Driven, he wanted someone with a very particular skill set. “I was looking for someone who had a real global vision of design, especially because of how fast things were changing in North America. But also someone who was steeped in European culture and sensibilities. The person I was looking for also had to be a motivator of people.” Whoever took over the position would also have exceptional interpersonal skills. This, along with a healthy dose of humor, would be critical to attracting young talent to the company. Combine this with the artistic repertoire that you’d expect from a design leader, and you’ve got a wishlist that few in the industry could live up to.

But at the end of his search, Reitzle finally found his man. He made a great impression when they met at the Frankfurt Auto Show in 1991, and those positive feelings were reinforced further during a reunion at the salon in 1992. This was more than enough for Reitzle. In October of 1992, he pulled the trigger and officially named him to the top design post. He wasn’t a high-profile stylist. In fact, he was a relative unknown. His body of work was pretty thin considering the position. In fact, at the time of his hire, his only designs to reach production consisted of a few interiors. The hire came as such a surprise that one newspaper dubbed the winning candidate “the invisible man.”

To Edward and Lura Bangle, there was no such thing as a dull moment. During the War, Edward worked as an assembly chief at a North American Aviation Plant in Los Angeles. This would be ambitious enough for most, but he went a step further. He would work in the prototype warehouse after hours, where he contributed to the immortal P-51 Mustang. They spent their lives after the war traveling the country. They moved no fewer than 20 times, and it was in 1956, while they were staying in Raveena, Ohio, that their son Chris was born. The Bangle family wouldn't find a permanent place to live until 1960, when they settled in Wausau, Wisconsin.

Edward grew enamored with machines from his time at North American Aviation, and he instilled the same burning passion within Chris. He spent much of his free time as a child listening to vinyl records of recordings that his father handed down to him. He also recalls accompanying him to local races and recreating them on his own toy track. And he remembers being blown away when he laid eyes on the 1968 Alfa Romeo Carabo in a magazine. Chris’ first encounter with a BMW was when an Isetta showed up in town. This was a strange encounter for a few reasons. It was a very rare car in the United States and the odds of one finding its way to the small town of Wausau were incredibly slim. Edward was aware of this and took his son out specifically to see it.

His father may have steered toward machines, but Chris’ environment played an even larger role in shaping his skillset and overall worldview. The education system focused on developing practical, real-world skills that encouraged students to work with their hands. He took full advantage of the woodshop, printing, and drafting classes and built up a solid foundation from a young age. This would be the ideal skill set for a career in industrial design.

Nevertheless, he put his artistic dreams on the back burner as he pursued another profession. He enrolled in the University of Wisconsin in 1975 with the intention of becoming a Methodist Minister. He immersed himself in the study of humanities, taking up philosophy, literature, history, and psychology in his first semester. Looking back, he felt these courses helped him sharpen up his critical thinking skills, which are essential for a profession such as industrial design where problem-solving is absolutely imperative.

He couldn’t stay away from the design world for long. In 1976, he submitted an application to Art Center College of Design. His portfolio was about 10 pages thick. It had cars, as expected, but it also had telephones, sewing machines, and even comic strips. If I had to take a stab as to why he took this spread fire approach, I’d wager that he wanted to showcase more than his artistic ability. The other products show that he was comfortable drawing other objects while the comic strips demonstrated his ability to quickly jot down ideas. A good chunk of the profession involves quickly and clearly commuting one's ideas. He got accepted to the transportation design program a year after he submitted his application. He also got his first taste of professional experience by keeping a summer job at Hartkopf Associates in his hometown, where he worked on graphic projects for local companies.

He was a standout student at Art Center, but a career in transportation design still wasn’t a sure thing. Jobs in the industry were especially difficult to come by in the early 1980s. With this in mind, he added a few more items to his portfolio as an insurance policy, just in case they didn’t shore up when he graduated. His ID-focused CV took on a more sci-fi theme, incorporating a variety of starships and space hardware. If transportation design didn’t work out, then a career in special effects seemed like an appealing alternative. The risk paid off. As the final days of his studies wound down, he managed to score an interview with Disney. A job with the most iconic entertainment company in the world seemed like an obvious choice, but he got thrown a curveball before the appointment. Chuck Jordan of General Motors fame paid the school a visit. He didn’t hire anyone right then and there, but Chris must’ve made an impression on Jordan and his recruiting team. On the eve of the Disney interview, GM called and offered him a position. He only had a split second to choose a job, and in the fleeting moments that he had to make a decision, he chose to pack his bags and style cars for Opel in Germany.

He began his career working in their Rüsselsheim design studio as an interior designer. At this time, the interior design department was led by Kurt Ludwig, someone who wasn’t satisfied with the bare minimum. He wanted his team to go above and beyond the design brief. This unending perfectionism rubbed off on Bangle and influenced all of his future work. In fact, we can see this attention to detail with the first project that Bangle was involved with: The Opel Tech 1 Concept, an aerodynamic study that, with a coefficient of drag of .235, set a world record upon its release in 1981. Bangle’s contributions here were limited to the interior.

Digital instruments and electronic touch keys controlled every function except for the gas, brakes, and clutch. Visibility is superb all around. The main thing that opens the cockpit up is the lack of a cheater panel. This area is all glass, and the side mirror is affixed directly to this. The A-pillar is impossibly thin, further contributing to the car’s inviting atmosphere.

Another highlight from his tenure at Opel is the interior of the Junior concept. The area of note here is the instrument panel. Instead of a bulky, fixed-in-place interface, the Junior allowed the owner to personalize the dash to their liking via swappable modules. A select few even had secondary functions when removed from the car. The clock doubles as a portable alarm while the radio can act as a sound system. Installation was simple. Electronic contacts in the instrument carrier bar make further wiring unnecessary. The air vents are attached to the dash by a bellow-like connector, which allows them to be tilted in any which direction. It was a hit when it debuted at the 1983 Frankfurt Motor Show and even earned first prize for styling at the 1984 Car Design Awards. As far as production cars, Bangle worked on the inside of the 1987 Senator and 1988 Vectra.

In 1985, Fiat’s Piergiorgio Tronville offered him a job at their design center to work on car exteriors. Bangle made it clear that he had little experience in this regard, but Tronville thought he could add a valuable perspective to the design process. Designers usually style cars from the outside in, but he felt that he could design cars from the driver’s perspective. Bangle, intrigued by the new position, left Germany behind and set up shop in Italy.

His presence in Rüsselsheim was sorely missed, as George Gallion, head of the Junior project, later recalled:

“When Chris Bangle left Opel Design, where he started his professional career, his supervisor at the time, Kurt Ludwig, wrote that we were losing a colleague who would be hard to replace. For him, design was not a job, rather a continuous job that he mastered. This attitude made Chris a highly respected partner, within Opel Design and with our partners. Chris was the first designer I can remember who wanted to work on interior design. He was so convinced that so much needed to be achieved and so much creative value could be added. He demonstrated his “passion” with the Tech 1 and Corsa Spider show vehicle. His ability to demonstrate innovation and at the same time to remain realistic made Chris' position as “individuum” and designer so convincing. As a fantastic illustrator, his sketches were a combination of spontaneity, creativity, with just the right portion of humor. His work had a poster-like quality that told a story. Sometimes explaining with cartoon-like illustrations not only the design solution but how it was to be constructed.”

Fiat assigned him a small workshop in the Strada Della Manta studio. The major difference between Fiat and Opel was the increased emphasis on working in 3 dimensions. In Rüsselsheim, they only moved onto 3D after completely fleshing out the design in paper. At Fiat, the modelers produced plaster mockups of varying scales very early on in the process. After the designer gave feedback and made adjustments to the car, the models were destroyed and replaced with ones that incorporated the changes. This intensive process helped Bangle better conceptualize his designs in 3 dimensions.

Bangle’s time with the company also had its frustrating moments. In addition to the proposals that came out of their in-house studios, Fiat also commissioned designs from the myriad of coachbuilders in Turin. And the higher-ups always went with proposals from outside of the company. Bangle went into more detail, saying:

“Ingegnere Tronville would enthuse about our designs which respected the brief we had been given by management, but in the end, they would be discarded. The Turin firm was not accustomed to supporting the work of its in-house designers; our role was restricted to that of providing a “creative counterpoint” to the great Masters. I have to admit that it was discouraging at times."

In time, Fiat loosened the reins a bit and began to look to them for designs. They contributed two landmark cars; The 1993 Fiat Coupe and the 1994 Alfa Romeo 145. And by 1992, he was heading up the entirety of the Fiat Design Center. He oversaw the development of cars like the Bravo, Brava, and Barchetta. But he left the company for another well before any of these cars were released.

He was being courted by Reitzle. Bangle simply couldn't pass up the opportunity to design cars for BMW, one of the most iconic automakers in the industry. In October of 1992, he was named BMWs chief of design. This was an especially momentous occasion. Not only did he become the first American to be appointed to the position, but he was also their first chief of design that had formal training in automotive design. Wilhelm Hofmeister was trained as an engineer. Paul Bracq got into the industry because he showed his drawings to Mercedes’ head of engineering while he was in the French Air Force. And Claus Luthe began by taking on an apprenticeship at a coachbuilder.

The most pressing matter Bangle would have to attend to wouldn't be to advance the brand's design language. It would actually be to bring the division back to its former glory. He felt like there was much work to do to bring the design department back to prominence. It may have only been two years since they had a leader, but he felt the effects of this would linger for much longer. In a 2012 interview with automotive publication Bimmer, he went on to say:

"I think those two years where they were missing a design leader haunted design for years. They haunted us. It’s a gap in management education and team building, and projects are started without the right sense of ownership and fall through the gaps of experience."

He worked out of the Forschungs- und Innovationszentrum, or FIZ. The environment itself stifled creativity, as this excerpt from the Fast Company article states:

“BMW is the antithesis of the boundless organization. Hierarchies and lines of authority are a real, even physical presence at BMW, especially so at its vaunted R&D center. Visitors are required to surrender their passports at the front desk; they must then walk through a labyrinth of corridors and electronically alarmed doors before gaining entry to the design studios. And no outsiders — not even employees from other departments — are allowed inside the center unaccompanied. When they are finally invited in, their entrance is accompanied by a loud, less-than-welcoming shouted greeting: “Outsiders!”

And there was also the topic of constructive criticism. Employees from other departments would often come into the design wing and give their thoughts on the proposals that they saw. This might not seem out of the ordinary, but bangle felt that their comments disrupted the creative process. More often than not, They were either looking at something that needed further context to understand or something that simply wasn’t finished. Designers, in turn, would lose confidence in their work, or worse.

One member of his staff, Bangle says, who had worked up a design he was especially proud of, heard a manufacturing engineer denounce it as requiring too much new tooling. That designer was out for several days “sick”—probably updating his resume, Bangle reckoned.

Bangle took drastic measures to make the FIZ a more inviting place for designers. Driven continues:

“After his arrival at BMW, Bangle moved quickly to institute a strict monitoring process in the design studios, walling off sensitive models, prototypes, and scale models and actually placing “Stop: No Entry” signs on the doors. Engineering and cost-analysis types aren’t allowed inside the studios unaccompanied; when they do go in, the designers and modelers are almost always out. When the designers do need feedback from the engineers, design team leaders are always present to keep the discussions productive rather than destructive.”

BMW bolstered its design operations by acquiring DesignworksUSA, a jack of all trades design studio in Southern California. I've actually made a video covering the history, products, and key people of Designworks, but I'll briefly go over the transaction here. The two have had a relationship since 1986 when BMW contracted them to create the seats for the E31 8-Series. The automaker continued to go to Designworks for various odds and ends. BMW actually acquired a 50 percent stake in the design house in August of 1991, more than a year before Bangle took on the top design post. But it wasn’t until 1995 that they purchased the rest of it. Designworks stopped doing work for other car companies, but besides that, not much changed for them. They still took on a wide variety of work, giving BMW an edge over other automakers. Again, I’ve made an entire video about them, so if you’d like to learn more about Designworks, then click on the card on the top right corner of your screen.

Bangle made the company a more attractive place for designers to work overall, but Reitzle had the final say on design matters. Still, we were able to see further developments in the BMW form language under his guidance. Critics labeled the E46 3-Series as yet another product of the Bavarian sausage factory, but there are a few new items to note here.

The kidney grille becomes more of a point of emphasis here, with the surrounding brightwork becoming a bit thicker. The forks inside pillow out onto the same level. It stands out on some models where the blades have a bit of brightwork. The old quad headlight motif makes somewhat of a return. The bulbs are emphasized because the housing kicks up a bit to make room for the headlight washers. This lends them an added dimension and draws them out of their glass.

The wheel arches are a bit tidier and take a bit to flare out completely, allowing the character line to once again stretch the entirety of the profile. Here, it’s less of a line and more of a crease, cutting into the sheet metal. It continues into the lights, going between the turn signals and brake indicators. The L-shape is still present, but the reverse lights that were so integral to forming it on the E36 are a non-factor here.

The evolutionary approach to the E46 upset some in the industry, who were anticipating something more radical. This was partly to do with Reitzle’s oversight, and partly to do with Bangle’s reluctance to overstep his boundaries early on. The design department might not have been where it used to be in years prior, but the company overall still had a very strong culture. It wouldn’t be possible for him to write the next chapter in BMWs history without first getting steeped in its ways. In the early days, he spent much of his time learning the ins and outs of the company from company veterans like Reitzle, Boyer, and Braun, who actually called it a career shortly after Bangle arrived. It isn’t very common that someone is able to step into a position like that under these unique conditions. The fortunate circumstances didn’t escape Bangle. In the Bimmer interview, he said:

"There was no sense of fires to be put out. There was no need to fire half of the department. No huge bleeding gaps in anything. It was a well-oiled machine, so it allowed me to let the machine get on with the job, let it do its work, and let me deal with the stream of people who came through my office and told me they knew how to do the job I was supposed to do. It let me listen to them, to try and dial back what they wanted to tell me into reasonable advice. That’s a luxury. Many managers who move into a vacancy like that are confronted by a huge flood of issues that have to be dealt with right now because it’s been two years and what do we do? That wasn’t the case at all. Everyone knew what they were doing."

There was a very strong culture at the company, though they’d soon find themselves in uncharted waters. BMW believed that the auto market was in for a reckoning. According to their own predictions, companies that sold fewer than 1.8 million cars annually wouldn’t survive in the future, at least not on their own. As Honda, Nissan, and Toyota worked their way into premium segments, BMW sought a way to get downmarket without sacrificing their brand cache. The easiest way to achieve this was to purchase another company outright. It would take an enormous amount of resources to bring a new nameplate to market and establish it in the minds of the public. Furthermore, they would have access to their existing engines, platforms, and other resources.

Reitzle didn’t want to go too mainstream. He wanted to acquire a niche manufacturer that complemented their own brand. After deals with Porsche and Rolls-Royce fall through, BMW purchased Rover in a deal that also included Mini, Land Rover, and MG. In total, they spent a staggering 1.7 Billion GBP. Reitzle was placed in charge of the brand, as management thought he could correct its course, much like he did in his early days at BMW. He just had to iron out a few issues and they'd be home free.

It wouldn't be so easy. An internal report uncovered a few concerning items. Absenteeism at their plants ran at a rate of 6 percent, which was far above the industry standard rate of 1 percent. Factory downtime was also at a rate of 15 percent, 5 times the amount of the average automaker. Oh, and their profit in 1994, an anomaly by their own standards, was only made possible through manipulating their balance sheet.

Even still, things appeared to be on the right track early on. 522,000 Rovers were sold in 1997, the highest mark in 8 years. The universe promptly corrected itself The following year. Sales nosedived in 1998. Dealers couldn’t move cars off their lots, even with bundles of cash on the hood. Even the cars that did manage to find new homes bled red ink for BMW. Chairman Bernd Pischetsrieder, fearing the worst, suspended all future investments in the brand. The only ones that would proceed were the ones that were too far into development to be stopped. Among these projects was the Rover 75, which debuted in 1998. This didn’t do much to stop the bleeding. Heads were going to roll.

A meeting took place in February of 1999 at BMWs Munich headquarters. They agreed Pischetsrieder had to go, but then the conversation shifted to his successor. Reitzle was under consideration for the job despite presiding over the failed Rover experiment. He may very well have gotten it, but the previous December, details of a meeting between himself, Von Kunheim, and Von Kuenheim’s wife leaked to the media. It was speculated that Reitzle leaked details of the meeting to the media. The Quandt family valued discretion above all else, and that meant that Reitzle was never truly in the running. He saw the writing on the wall. He handed in his two-week notice, simultaneously signaling two things; the end of the conservative Reitzle era and the beginning of an unprecedented period for BMW.

In 1972, paleontologists Niles Eldredge and Stephen Jay Gould proposed the theory of punctuated equilibrium. Essentially, it states that evolution takes place in short, rapid bursts. Under this principle, species exist in a period of stasis for millions of years at a time. It is only when major events occur that change happens. And when it does happen, it’s dramatic. Punctuated equilibrium seriously resonated with Chris Bangle. In fact, he structured the idea of vehicle updates around the theory. In the Fast Company article, he went on to say:

“When you spend an enormous amount of money developing a new model, you don’t just throw all that money out the window seven years later and do something completely different,” he says. “Instead, you refine the car, you improve it, and you get your money out of it. Ultimately, you develop two generations of cars that are very close in their evolutionary nature. But then, 14 years later, the conditions have changed so radically — competitive pressures, technological advances, safety and environmental regulations, consumer preferences — that it’s time to make the big jump.”

This philosophy was colliding head-on with something that had been brewing for about a decade’s time. When Chris first came aboard in 1992, he participated in a study with management to determine what luxury car buyers would want in their vehicles in the distant future. The results were a bit vague, as is often the case with experiments such as these, but one thing was crystal clear: The relationship between man and machine would be deeper and more visceral than in generations past. Technological advancements shrunk the world and the advent of the internet only accelerated this process. And consumers 10 years in the future would want this hyper-activity reflected in their cars. Now, exactly how that would manifest itself into something tangible took some time to figure out. But they finally had something. For the first time, on the eve of the new millennium, BMW evolved.

The Z9 Gran Turismo show car debuted at the 1999 Frankfurt Auto Show. There’s a lot to go through, so let’s start where we usually do - the grille. It’s perhaps the single biggest leap for this feature in the company’s history. It’s hollowed out, so to speak, which makes the thicker, brighter forks pop even more. There’s a heavy helping of brightwork above the grille that draws the eye to both the kidneys and the hood cut line. The company’s heavy investment into their modeling department shows up in a big way here. Everything up here is at the mercy of the car’s flows and contours. The lines from the hood continue into the grille, the blinkers are bisected to the hood line, and a line coming from the beltline actually stops the headlight in its tracks and flows into the lower front fascia. The last item of note here is the third light between the headlight and grille. It may have been possible to integrate its function into the main one, but the emphasis on form is so great here that they needed to be separated in order to preserve the line’s momentum.

Convex and concave surfaces dominate the side profile. The character line that has graced models since the New Class in 1962 is gone entirely, replaced by a pinch that vanishes just as suddenly as it appears. It appears to be two-dimensional, but the way the shadow tapers away gives it an added dimension. There is a continuous motion that goes from the bottom of the front clip, through the headlights, and through the beltline before rounding out at the back. There is also a bit of interplay just under the door line behind the front wheel. Its wheel arches are a bit unusual. Instead of shadowing the wheel like a typical arch, they keep a consistent direction after it starts on the way down, almost as if the sheet metal is draped over the wheel like a throw blanket.

The back of the Z9 is dominated by an unusual ducktail that flares straight up past the taillights. It seriously impacts the design from the side. You’d expect the cabin to gradually come down somewhere near the beltline streak. Well, it actually stops rather early and at a significantly higher point than the front end. The flair is nearly at a right angle which sticks out like a sore thumb when taken in with the comparatively smooth bodywork. A major part of the Z9 is contrast. The dramatic surface changes, for instance, create interplay between light and the shadow. The tail could be interpreted as the most dramatic element in this regard. Moving on to the rear, a line that comes after the window comes into focus. This reinforces an already strong deck and pulls the tailback.

This radical new design direction was furthered by something that began as a mere experiment. We’re already aware of their desire to expand in the mid-90s. Rover was purchased to shore up the low end, but BMW also wondered how they could broaden their own lineup. The X5 was well in development by 1995. They thought there would be some value in exploring a different interpretation. It was in these circumstances that Chris Bangle decided to break ground on “Deep Blue.” The company authorized him to spend more than $1,000,000 to send a team out from Munich to Southern California, where they were “exiled” to a Malibu beach house that was once owned by Elizabeth Taylor. He hoped that, by getting them out of the confines of the FIZ, they’d be able to approach the design from a fresh perspective.

Another team was established in an undisclosed location in Munich to bring the car to life. It was very much an analog design process. Computer-aided design tools were left on the backburner as work moved from paper directly to clay modeling. After half a year of construction, the car finally saw the light of day in 2001 as the X Coupe Concept.

Whereas the Z9 emphasized solid, sculpted forms, the X Coupe gets the point across with distinguishing line work. BMW calls this surface language “flame surfacing.” While cast out in Malibu, the designers looked to an open flame for inspiration. The idea is that the cars should carry the same organic and, at times, chaotic forms that occur in nature. And this principle is best seen with the character line. It begins at the hood and gracefully flows into the car’s midsection. Then out of nowhere, it kicks up aggressively as it meets the door handle and flares out to the rear. The supporting line is also a bit unusual. It starts out at the front of the car and actually initiates the front wheel well. It then proceeds to sag down the side skirt and creates a bulging effect. It is intended to contrast with the more jagged lines, but the execution leaves a lot to be desired. The line coming off the front wheel is perhaps the strangest of them all. It lifts off the rest of the car slightly, making it seem as if the entire wheel well is detached from the rest of the body.

The X-Coupe is also asymmetrical. Around back, the glass completely wraps around one side and hits the C-pillar on the other. This is a byproduct of the car’s unique seating layout. A third seat is placed in the back, and accessing it would’ve been difficult with just the two doors up front. To compensate, a large portion of the rear opens up clamshell-style. It gives the car a very… and I’m saying this word quite a bit…. Unusual cantilevered appearance.

The public wouldn't have to wait long to lay eyes on a production car with their revamped design language. At the 2001 Frankfurt Auto Show, BMW unveiled the long-awaited successor the beloved E38 7-Series. It was a massive departure from its predecessor. The grille borrows heavily from the Z9. The forks are thicker, brighter, and spaced far apart from one another. The kidneys also use a heavy helping of chrome trim to make them more eye-catching. Lastly, they’re larger and their overall shape is less defined.

The headlights are, in my opinion, the weakest part of the entire car. They lack the confidence of the units from the post LCI E38. Those were simple most of the way through, only getting out of their orthogonal comfort zone to emphasize the bulbs. The E65s units try to put a spin on this. The halos aren’t emphasized in a perfectly circular fashion like previous iterations. The asymmetric interpretation does give it a more dynamic look from certain angles, but from others, they completely spoil the design. It goes from looking aggressive to… just plain sad.

The bumper guard is all but gone. It hasn’t been eliminated entirely, but it being color-keyed may point to it being a safety requirement more than a design element. Lastly, the lower front clip is heavily inspired by the same area from the Z9. it further reinforces the softer, more rounded form language that they were after.

The beltline streak makes a return. Here, it comes into focus around the headlight and gains weight as it comes to the window. Like the Z9, it stretches all the way to the rear. Its character line is an inverse of the one from the E36. Here, it gives way to the rear wheel arch before continuing into the lighting units. And the Hofmeister kink is softer and lends to the E65s heavy C-pillar.

Just past the window line is the appearance of the car’s most infamous design element. Much like the Z9, the third box is emphasized by sheet metal that extends from the rear bumper. Let’s first examine it from the side. It dramatically increases the height of the third box. It isn’t quite as dramatic as the interpretation on the Z9, but it can still be quite jarring.

This element also contributes to the busiest element of the car. From this angle, we can see that it flares out quite a bit and defines the rear deck. It’s essential to establishing the saloon footprint, but the lines clash with a few others back here. The beltline streak, joint line, and trunk panel gaps are the main ones, and the continuation of the character line is, uh, also just hanging out. This smattering of lines and creases leads to the ¾ quarter rear view feeling congested and claustrophobic. The reverse lights and rear reflectors are located in their own area just under the joint line. This strip further reinforces the rear’s horizontality.

The E65 was a controversial design when it was unveiled, and a look into BMWs design process can shed some light as to why it turned out the way that it did. Typically, the company will pit teams of designers against one another to compete for the winning proposal. Chris Bangle says this approach is integral to their design philosophy. In this way, the final product is always more powerful than what a single person could hope to produce. In the case of the E65, a more conservative proposal was the frontrunner. Instead of picking that outright, Bangle assigned a team to create a counter-proposal or something that was its polar opposite. And it was that counter-proposal that won out and eventually saw production.

The final design was created by Adrian Van Hooydonk, a Dutch designer who was born in 1964. He started out as a freelance designer after graduating from the University of Technology in Delft in 1988. He worked briefly as a freelance designer and then had a stint at GE Plastics. Hooydonk then studied automotive design at Art Center Europe. He was hired by BMW in 1992 and has been with the company ever since.

The E65s avant-garde styling was a lightning rod for criticism. A headline in Fortune Magazine asked readers a question: “Do You Think This Car is Ugly? If So, You Aren’t Alone.” Time magazine, meanwhile, placed the car on their 50 worst cars of all time list.

Tom Tjaarda of Pininfarina and De Tomaso fame took issue with the back of the car, saying:

Unfortunately, the rear end was the first I saw of the car, and I could not believe my eyes. . . . It is lumpy, with confusing lines. And it looks as if the boot is open when it’s closed."

Imre Molnar, the former dean of the College of Creative Studies, said that both the rear of the E65 and its iDrive infotainment system as “inexcusable.”

And criticism was in no short supply on the internet. A petition to remove Bangle from his position as BMWs chief of design kicked off in 2001. By early 2003 it attracted 4,500 like-minded individuals and by 2005, it accrued nearly 12,000 signatures. This was a rather amusing relic of the past, but the criticism often transcended the computer screen and became personal. Chris goes on to say:

"Yes, the press--or elements of it--were vicious. But the only thing that bothered me was when it reached my family, and it hurt them. I have a 17-year-old son, who was 13 at the time, and he was affected by the criticism. It hurt him. You need to separate the professional from the private; you need to draw the line.

Of course, both he and the company went to great lengths to defend the car. Bangle said that the rear design stemmed from their desire to increase passenger space. He says there is a direct connection between the peak point of the roof and the spoiler on the trunk. So when one goes up, the other has to come up with it. The higher trunk opening also allows for easier access to the cargo area. He has also gone on record saying that the cars don’t photograph well. He recommends that people see them in the flesh under natural light in order to truly get a handle on them.

He recommended that people see them in the flesh under natural light in order to truly wrap their heads around them.

Company chairman Helmut Panke, meanwhile, said that the more aggressive and authoritative design was meant to appeal to American and Japanese buyers.

And even Adrian Van Hooydonk, meanwhile, said that it was only a matter of time before a dramatic change occurred.

“Over the years, we’ve been very successful in defining the BMW look, which we’ve done by being very precise in our designs, But when you make only incremental changes, you find yourself in a corridor that gets narrower and narrower. Finally, you reach a dead-end, and by then, the customer has abandoned you for a car that’s fresh and new. We had to break through that corridor. The goal for the new 7 was to push the boundaries as far as we could. You can’t be a leader if you’re not out in front.”

There was a lot riding on the X-Coupe. It was never destined for production, but the flame surfacing design philosophy was intended to become one of the brand’s major hallmarks. If that wasn’t enough, the first production car to wear it would be the crucial follow-up to the highly successful Z3. Its successor would have the arduous task of maintaining its mass appeal and sales volume while also remaining competitive with a new crop of luxury sports coupes. When the Z3 launched way back in 1996, the segment was only a few years removed from getting a shot in the arm from the MX-5 Miata. Since then, it has fielded some seriously stiff competition from Audi, Mercedes-Benz, and Honda.

This new car would be a clean-sheet design. Virtually nothing would carry over from the Z3. The only thing that wouldn't have to be invented was the overall proportions. Some of the cars in this segment, most notably the Audi TT, experimented with more unconventional proportions. BMW wouldn't meddle with the formula. In fact, they created their own "ten commandments" of sorts, containing points that they absolutely couldn't stray from.

It was imperative that they nailed the stance of the car. In the summer of 1998, while engineers were working out the packaging, the design team did some layout work of their own. Before even setting pen to paper, they hashed out the proportions by creating crude mockups from Z3s. A few of these prototypes were functioning examples that were shared with the packaging and engineering teams.

After that had been decided, groups in Munich and Designworks spent three months on conceptual sketching work. 5 exterior and interior proposals were considered before the project entered the “hot phase,” where two of them were realized in full scale and presented to the board. The first came from the FIZ and was evolutionary in nature. It didn’t break the mold, but some favored this one because it was fundamentally strong and wouldn’t be very difficult to produce. The second came out of Designworks and was created by Anders Warming. Much like Hooydonk’s E65 counter-proposal, this was a radical departure from both its predecessor and the design it was set up against. And just like that car, the board chose the road less traveled. He’d spend another six months in Munich working with engineers in the waning moments of development. The end result successfully combined the most effective experimental aspects of the X-Coupe with tried and true roadster attributes.

The theme of the BMW Z4 is “controlled chaos. Flame surfacing dominates the exterior. The character line up top mimics the one from the concept, with its gradual windup and sudden kick back to the rear. The diagonal crease also makes a return, and while it isn’t nearly as aggressive here, I think it’s better for it. The X Coupe’s iteration literally folded the side bodywork into the first box, but otherwise felt disconnected from the rest of the car. The Z4 simulates this effect by using light to its advantage. In some situations, it catches very little of it and blends in with the surrounding lines. In others, it’s the single most dynamic element on the entire car. And the way it slices through the roundel turn indicator makes both items feel like they belong.

Now let’s turn our attention to the front end. The horizontal hood line dictates how far the elements in the front come up. The headlights are abruptly cut off by it and, as a result, have a look that is both rounded and defined. The line then continues onto the profile view and transitions into the supporting line. It continues its downward trajectory for a bit, then tapers back up and fades away as it meets the door cut line. When taken together, you can almost make the letter Z out of the collection of lines. Anders Warming says this wasn’t intended, but in my opinion, it’s a happy accident. They’re also integral to integrating the soft top into the design. The door line lines up with the window. This then leads onto the A-pillar and spills into the diagonal crease.

BMW’s next new car wouldn’t be very far behind. Work on a successor to the E39 5-Series began in 1997 and a proposal by Davide Arcangeli soon became the favorite. He was a young, talented designer that was making waves throughout the industry. Arcangeli went to art school in Rimini and then found employment at Pininfarina. It began as a 6-month internship, but he ended up staying with the company for several years. He penned the 1994 Honda Argento Viva, which caught the attention of the Sultan of Brunei. He requested 5 examples for himself and members of his family. He also designed the 8-cylinder Morbidelli 850 motorcycle. It was intended for production, but the absurdly high asking price prevented it from being little more than a novelty. No doubt the most well-known of his contributions was the Peugeot 407 Coupe. It debuted at the 1996 Paris Motor Show and went on to receive critical acclaim. He left Pininfarina a while later and joined BMW. One of the first projects that he had a hand in was the E60 5-Series.

What made his proposal so compelling was how it amended a styling conundrum. Chris Bangle went into greater detail about the design during a 2020 interview with BMWBLOG. It was pretty insightful overall. He gave his thoughts on a wide variety of topics, including autonomous driving and the current state of supercars. I recommend giving it a listen, but as it relates to the E39, engineering constraints meant that the car needed to gain a few centimeters In height. This on its own isn't terribly uncommon. Designers usually increase the size of the wheels to offset the added heft. But then the engineering team informed them that the wheels needed to remain the same size. Arcangeli proposed that they use negative space to their advantage. By literally removing mass from the body, they'd be able to take the additional sheet metal from the equation. A drawing of his was taken to the board and immediately approved. Alas, the star that shines twice as bright burns half as long, and Arcangeli’s stellar career and incredible life came to a sudden, unexpected, and tragic end. Mere days after this momentous occasion, Davide Arcangeli died of leukemia at the age of 30.

Even after designs are accepted, they're usually tweaked in one way or another in order to get it production-ready. But that wasn't the case here. Everyone involved from all departments worked tirelessly to ensure that Davide's original vision was wholly intact. The E65 was criticized at the time of its release for its concave body panels. Many felt that it was lifeless and lacked the depth and warmth characteristic of BMWs. Public perception of the car as well as the practice of using negative space had shifted drastically. Automakers have since worked the practice into their design philosophy. Mazda, for instance, uses it as a foundational element in their KODO design philosophy.

The E65 7-Series certainly made waves when it debuted in 2001, but the E63 6-Series is perhaps the most extreme interpretation of their design language thus far. Exterior styling is largely based on the Z9 concept. Like that car, the front end is influenced quite a bit by the linework. It’s best seen on this line that is initiated at the headlamp and flows into the beltline streak. The motif isn’t as dominant as it is on the source material, but it still ties everything together nicely.

The concave bodywork from the E60 makes a return. Essentially, everything between these two lines is scooped out. It pulls the light in some pretty interesting directions and also emphasizes the rear wheel arch, making the car appear more powerful. This lower line is stretched onto the front and rear, giving these areas a bit more contrast and also making the car feel a bit longer and lower. And out of all of the production cars the company put out in the early and mid 200s, the E63 has the most unfettered interpretation of the Z9s rear end. That implied line between it and the tail light is now a literal line. This makes the tail more powerful overall and causes the lip to become more prominent from the side.

The evolution of the BMW brand began with the 7-Series. The formula was refined with the Z4, 5-Series, 6-Series, X3, and 1-Series. Equilibrium finally concluded with the E90 3-Series. Compared to some of the other cars we’ve had a look at, the E90 is definitely on the reserved end of the spectrum. There’s still a bit of continuity present. The forks in the lower clip extend to cut off the headlamps and stretch onto the hood. They don’t get much further than that, though. Beltline duty is now relegated to the hood cut line further on the outside. The headlamps are larger and longer than what we’ve seen before. In fact, nearly all of the elements here stretch out length-wise. The E90, a compact executive, isn’t the widest car, so this is one method to make the car appear more authoritative. The kidneys are more defined overall. The bodywork coming from the lower clip is used as a framing device of sorts, pushing the grilles to a higher plane. Again, the side view is a more restrained version of their other offerings. This crease going through the door handles is pretty deep, and the way the shadow fades away gives the car momentum. The side skirt flares out to catch more light. Brightwork lines the entire window, but it is much thicker on the upper portion. This is to emphasize the c-pillar and the Hofmeister kink. It also highlights (and contributes to) a thin, airy A-pillar. Trace amounts of the rear wedge are present. The beltline streak stops just short of cutting the tail light off, which subdues its visual impact a bit. There’s still a noticeable kick when viewed from behind, created due in large part to a line that goes from the beginning of one tail light to the end of another. I suspect that the smaller footprint for the 3-Series was a bit more restrictive than the larger cars in this regard.

Bangle went on record saying that the E90 was the end of the revolution that began with the E65, and that’s where I’ll end things off as well. In the next part of this series, we’ll look at the second half of his tenure at the company as well as how the design language evolved over the course of those years.

SOURCES

BOOKS

Lightfoot, David. “Exterior Design.” BMW Z4: Design, Development and Production--How BMW Creates the Ultimate Driving Machines, First Edition, Gearbooks LLC, 2004, pp. 70–90.

Cumberford, Robert. Chris Bangle. BMW Global Design (Car Men, Vol. 8). 0 ed., Automobilia, 2001.

Kiley, David, et al. Driven: Inside BMW, the Most Admired Car Company in the World. e-book, Gildan Media, 2020.

WEB

Patton, Phil. “Hot Stuff: The Theme Is a Flame.” The New York Times, 17 Nov. 2002, www.nytimes.com/2002/11/17/automobiles/hot-stuff-the-theme-is-a-flame.html?searchResultPosition=6.

Crate, James R. “Bangle Moved to Exec Role.” Automotive News, 9 Feb. 2004, www.autonews.com/article/20040209/SUB/402090815/bangle-moved-to-exec-role.

Green, Gavin. “Chris Bangle, BMW’s Design Chief - Interview - Motor Trend.” MotorTrend, 18 May 2006, www.motortrend.com/features/chris-bangle-bmw-design-chief.

Automotive News. “BMW’s Bangle: Ready for the next Design Revolution.” Automotive News, 14 Mar. 2005, www.autonews.com/article/20050314/SUB/503140766/bmw-s-bangle-ready-for-the-next-design-revolution.

Jouret, Jackie. “Moving Forward | Issue 110.” Bimmer, 31 Aug. 2012, www.bimmer-mag.com/issues/110/articles/moving-forward.

“Evolution: Library: Punctuated Equilibrium.” PBS.Org, 2021, www.pbs.org/wgbh/evolution/library/03/5/l_035_01.html.

DeMattia, Nico. “Chris Bangle Reveals the Truth of the E60 5 Series Design.” BMW BLOG, 26 Sept. 2020, www.bmwblog.com/2020/09/26/chris-bangle-reveals-the-truth-of-the-e60-5-series-design.