J Mays and the Rise of Retrofuturism

J Mays spent his 34 years in the automotive industry reminding everyone why they fell in love with cars. He was at the forefront of the retro craze that dominated the late 90s and 2000s. Some of the most prominent cars of this nature, such as the fifth-generation Ford Mustang and the concept that inspired the Volkswagen New Beetle were designed under his watch. Nearly a decade after his retirement, the movement still resonates with automakers and consumers alike. Welcome to another episode of Industry Icons!

EARLY LIFE

J Mays was born in Pauls Valley, Oklahoma in 1954 but grew up in nearby Maysville. This small town in the heart of the state has a population of just over 1,000 people. Many automotive designers become inspired to pursue that profession due in large part to their environment and the people around them, and Mays’ situation was no different. A 1996 article from The Oklahoman revealed how deep the obsession with cars ran in his family. J’s grandfather served on pit crews on the Indianapolis 500 and his great-grandfather was an amateur open-wheel racer. His dad also raced, though his career was cut short due to injury.

These early years also instilled in him the importance of precision and accuracy. His family ran a cattle ranch and the young J did whatever he could to help out. He often found himself plowing the fields. J challenged himself to complete the task as accurately and meticulously as possible. The Mays also ran an auto parts store to supplement their income. Most people find merchandise facing and shelf dusting especially dull, but J took great pleasure in these duties. You can probably imagine how this upbringing influenced him artistically. He described himself as a child who preferred to color inside the lines.

J’s path to the automotive industry seemed rather straightforward. Perhaps he could have gone to a state university to study general design or attended one of the handful of schools in the country that specialized in car styling. He didn't take either of these paths, at least to start.

J didn't even know that the profession existed. He enrolled at the University of Oklahoma after graduating from high school and majored in commercial art. The subject matter didn't resonate with him, though, so he dropped out of the program and switched over to a journalism track. Pursuing a career in that field appeared to be a bit of a departure for the lifelong artist. He decided to make the jump largely because a friend of his owned a newspaper in town. Unfortunately, J was out of his element in this environment as well and struggled to find his footing.

Just as he was at his wit’s end, he learned about Art Center College of Design in Southern California. Its transportation design program in particular intrigued him. He couldn’t believe that people made a living drawing cars. Sketching inside notebooks is just a small part of the job, though the mere prospect was enough to get J interested.

He worked on his portfolio during a summer break and sent it to Art Center for submission. The school accepted it and J was set on a new career path. The dream was further realized thanks to a sponsorship from Ford. Deals like this often require the student to commit to the automaker upon graduation, though that stipulation didn’t appear to be a part of this arrangement. His final project attracted no fewer than nine job offers. Instead of going to a large, well-established automaker, J Mays joined a scrappy underdog in Audi. He figured that he would have a better shot at having one of his designs produced since it was a smaller company at the time.

AUDI

He began working for the company in 1980 and moved halfway across the world to Ingolstadt, Germany. Hopping from a small town in the Midwest to one of the largest cities in the world and then to Europe would probably leave most people in a state of perpetual culture shock. J Mays wasn’t as out of his element as you might think. The meticulous way in which German automakers operated was in line with his personality.

Hartmut Warkuss, Audi’s chief of design at the time, also did quite a bit to acclimate him to the company culture. In the book Retrofuturism: The Car Design of J Mays, he said:

“Warkuss was my true teacher on the design side. Where I learned how to design a car was under his stewardship, not at Art Center. Art Center gave me the ability to draw and gave me the ability to execute and how my designs on a wall, but Warkuss taught me how to think about design, which was very German, in a sense, as well.”

J seemed to be correct in believing there was room for him to grow at Audi. Within a few years of coming aboard, he was appointed as the lead designer of the B3 Audi 80 under Warkuss. It is a departure from the wedge-shape Giugiaro special that it set to replace. The B3 takes on a softer design language and becomes more playful and inviting as a result. It also does a few interesting things with its greenhouse.

The reduced A and C-pillars do a lot to open the cabin up. Additionally, designers removed the kink in the rear quarterlight and introduced a graceful curve onto the back window. From certain angles, it appears to wrap around to the other end. The B3 also makes use of flush door handles that contribute to a more aerodynamic look. A more subdued character line passes through them and meets with the corner of the rear lights. This is evidence of Js emphasis on precision and accuracy, factors that aren’t as present on the B2. There, the line passes underneath the handles and overshoots the area where the brake and turn indicators meet.

The B3 was a radical evolution of Audi’s design language. Judging from a poll I ran some time ago, it seemed to be a change for the better. It won in a landslide, garnering 74 percent of the total votes.

After spending three years at Audi, J Mays moved down the road to Munich and worked for BMW. In this brief stint, he contributed to the designs of the E34 5-Series and E31 8-Series. J returned to Audi in 1984, this time serving as a senior designer that emphasized aerodynamic research. Models that he influenced include the Audi 100, Volkswagen Polo, and Audi Quattro. His most noteworthy project from this period had yet to come, though.

Audi made a splash at the 1991 Tokyo Motor Show when it unveiled the Avus Quattro concept. This polished aluminum wonder was a love letter to Auto Union’s pre-war race cars. Heck, it's even named after a 1930s high-speed race track in Berlin. This was the first time that J Mays integrated a company's heritage into a project's design to this extent. It differs from later cars in this vein in the sense that it echoes a point in time rather than a particular model.

The manner in which the haunches flare up past the hood and rear deck evokes memories of the streamlined Auto Unio V16 Type C Streamline. While the execution isn’t quite as pronounced on the Avus, the arches still emphasize the wheels and make the car feel lower to the ground in comparison.

The Avus Quattro has striking proportions and a dramatic shape, but the aluminum bodywork stands out as its most distinguishing element. Craftsmen worked the material into shape by hand, much like how a constructor would have done it in the 1930s. Audi’s decision to leave the exterior unpainted pays off in a few key ways. It is perhaps the most obvious callback to the Auto Union days. The harsh reflections also accentuate its curvaceous styling. Most importantly, it makes the car feel substantial. Even through photographs, observers can get a sense of its volume as well as the richness of the aluminum. It’s almost as if it were carved from a single block of metal.

Designers emphasized the material even further through their treatment of various exterior elements. Side mirrors are typically affixed to the main body. On the Avus, they’re placed directly on the A-pillar. This cleans up that area of the car and gives it a more aerodynamic appearance. Mirrors on Auto Union racecars were similar in the sense that they were integrated into the bodywork rather than being attached by stalks. This vent on the lower half of the body also mimics the appearance of the ones found on those cars. While these call a bit of attention to themselves, the intakes just ahead of the rear wheels are a bit more covert. They cut deep into the body but don’t distract from the aluminum sheet metal due to their placement atop the shoulder. From certain angles, you wouldn’t even know they were there.

From a bird’s eye view, we can see how the car’s smattering of lines and curves are related. The aforementioned intakes are unified through the base of the rear screen. The prominent haunches at the front also transition seamlessly into the rails, though this is cut short as it meets the most important throughline. A teardrop motif wraps around the car’s greenhouse before coming into its own at the deck. This is a nod to the bullet-shaped competition machines of yesteryear. Much like those thoroughbreds, the Avus appears to slice through the wind even when it’s standing still. Instead of coming to a defined point like its forebearers, the teardrop comes to an abrupt stop as it meets the quarter panel. Cutting the tail off in this manner does look a bit odd, though it is typically more aerodynamically beneficial to end these early rather than to have them continue.

I bet you’ve already noticed the massive NACA duct on the roof. Audi engineers certainly had function over form in mind when they were fleshing this element out. It comes out of nowhere and interrupts what would have been a continuous expanse of glass. On the flip side, it doesn’t take away that much since it isn’t placed on the body. I’d also imagine that it would do the bulk of the engine cooling. Without it, designers would likely have to saddle the exterior with extra vents to make up that lost ground and compromise on their vision. Speaking of which...

The car used a mid-mounted 6-liter W12 that produced 509 horsepower–or at least that was the plan. Audi still hadn’t wrapped up development on that powertrain, so the car on the auto show floor used a rather convincing stand-in made from plastic and wood. While the engine would be produced en-masse starting in 2001, the Avus Quattro remained a concept. It received a warm reception at the salon, though, and J expanded upon the principles established here in the years that followed. He’d be in a prime position to do just that. In 1990, an entire year before the Avus Quattro debuted, the company appointed him as chief designer of a newly-opened Volkswagen/Audi design studio in Simi Valley, California.

VOLKSWAGEN

Volkswagen’s American operations had been in a steady downward decline for two decades. In 1970, it sold about 600,000 cars in the market. In 1990, it moved a mere 150,000 vehicles. An exit from the US was not out of the question, but Wolfsburg’s pride and joy wasn’t going to go down without a fight. It placed a renewed emphasis on the country. Reinforcing its presence on the West Coast, by far its surest foothold in the market, was a critical part of the equation.

This is where J came into the equation. Volkswagen felt that his experience in the region made him the perfect candidate to head up operations here. It originally tasked him with defining “California trends,” though rather than peering ahead to the future, J looked into the past. He took his experience with the Avus Quattro concept into account and decided to weave design and heritage together once again. This time, he wanted to marry these concepts with an increased priority on branding, advertising, and marketing. The book Retrofuturism states that designers typically didn’t involve themselves with factors that weren’t squarely in the realm of styling back then. These areas were handled separately by other departments, though J felt that it would be beneficial to integrate these processes. Marketing and branding efforts don't usually kick off until the design process is well underway. When these divisions aren't on the same page, the result is disjointed and not as impactful as it could be.

“I don’t separate design and marketing. I think they’re exactly the same thing. I’m marketing when I’m designing.”

— J Mays

Some within the company wanted J to stay in his lane, but he'd make believers out of them soon enough.

The Beetle was far and away Volkswagen’s most iconic model. J chose this as the base for his new project. Adapting its design to present-day regulations would have been a fool’s errand while lazily applying retro cues to a new car would have led to disastrous results. No, he intended on creating a fully reimagined Bug for the modern era.

Before ever putting pen to paper, the team surveyed customers to find out what they liked about Volkswagen and the Beetle. Its honesty, reliability, and simplicity appealed to them the most. J honed in on that last descriptor. He made a graph that was labeled “simple” on one end and “complex” on the other. In the middle were various other terms. After correlating numerous geometric forms to the words, he found that the shape of a circle was most strongly associated with simplicity. J detailed his philosophy, saying:

“Nothing is more simple to understand than a circle. It embodies a soft, childlike quality, which I think explains people’s almost motherly reaction to the car. It’s also something that did not escape Walt Disney when he created Mickey Mouse. In fact, if you turn the Beetle on end it almost looks like Mickey Mouse.”

It was heavily incorporated into the new car, which earned the name “Concept One.” The circular badge, headlights, side mirrors, and fog lights all made for a friendly and recognizable front-end signature. Even elements that weren’t completely circular, such as the hood shut line and lower clip, still played into the motif.

Volkswagen Concept One. Volkswagen Press UK

J and his team put together one hell of a proposal, but convincing the corporate suits to go through with it would be a battle unto itself. They believed that the Beetle had its time in the sun and wanted to move on. German execs also believed that there were still negative connotations attached to it and were hesitant to resurface them. Americans saw the car in a different light, though. It remained an icon in that market years after Volkswagen ceased sales in 1979. Simi Valley still faced an uphill battle in this regard, though.

The design team worked up a presentation that illustrated the impact the model had on this market. It detailed the Beetle’s American introduction, rise to prominence, cultural resonance, and eventual downfall. Except, in a way, it was as relevant as ever. Favorable weather conditions in places like Southern California helped keep the cars on the road and allowed Bug culture to flourish. They ended things off by showing the higher-ups the Concept One model. The pitch worked like a charm. It broke cover in Detroit in 1994, inspired the New Beetle in 1997, and helped steer Volkswagen in the right direction in the US.

FORD

After this project, J continued working for Audi in Germany before relocating to Southern California permanently. He took a break from car design studios and found employment at SHR Perceptual Management, a brand identity and development firm. This seemed to be the perfect fit for J, who already had an interest in those areas. The company had several automakers in its Rolodex, including Ford. J occasionally spoke with Jack Telnack, then the company’s chief of design, on various projects. So when he called SHR up one day he didn’t think anything more of it.

J asked what he could do for him. He responded, “I hope I can do something for you.” Jack kept the reason for his call close to his chest but assured J that he’d elaborate over lunch in Detroit. He flew out to the Motor City to meet with the designer but found that there was a third guest present: Jacques Nasser, Ford’s president at the time.

1982 Ford Motor Company (USA) Jack Telnack by Michael is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

They shot the breeze about car design and the automotive industry as a whole. While it was nice to catch up with them, J couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this. He’d already come to his own conclusion. Several high-ranking directors under Telnack had retired and he thought they were preparing to offer him one of those positions. He had no plans of leaving SHR, so if it did come to that then he planned on turning them down.

Late into their meeting, Nasser turned to Telnack and said “Well I suppose we can tell him one. It’s Jack’s job we need to fill.” This changed everything. Only a few of these positions existed in the United States and just a handful more across the globe. Vacancies were a scarce commodity, and his colleagues were essentially allowing him first dibs at the top job at Ford. J didn’t have to think twice about it. On October 1st, 1997, he officially became the company’s new chief of design.

J Mays had been in leadership positions before, but this was unlike anything he’d encountered up to that point. He supervised a group of 200 employees while at Audi. In his new role, he’d be overseeing 1,000 designers across 8 studios dotted around the world. And he wouldn’t just be shaping the look of Ford, either. Lincoln and Mercury were in the fold and due to the company’s recent buying spree, he’d be managing the efforts of Mazda, Volvo, Land Rover, Jaguar, and Aston Martin.

How could one person possibly give each brand and every employee the proper attention? To start, each brand had its own director who could be more involved with day-to-day concerns in the studio. J also gave the more established studios greater autonomy and only got hands-on with the facilities that needed extra attention. Jaguar and Volvo, for instance, already had strong design operations and could go on with little interference from him. Ford’s American and European studios weren’t as developed and thus received significantly more of his time. It was unusual for someone in his position to be that involved in the process, but he hoped to set an example that other employees could follow.

He was quite involved in the development of the Mondeo of the day. He “spent a three-week period over there designing that car and putting every line on it myself… I got my jeans on, and I was out in the middle of the yard, taping, and these guys are saying ‘Oh my God! This guy is a nut,’ because vice presidents are supposed to come in and look authoritative and shake their fingers and yell at people. And I was just trying to be a tutor, and teach people what I know, and then let them, hopefully, take that [lesson]. There is no way to sustain any type of design expertise if there is no knowledge there of what you are supposed to sustain.”

That wasn’t the only change they’d have to make. He also encouraged them to streamline the development process. Instead of spending valuable time coming up with ideas in the conceptualization phase and limping across the finish line, they would now commit to a direction early on and spend the rest of their time refining it.

This was something that he picked up on from his time in Germany. He said that they would typically develop two models and select one. This occurred a quarter into the development process. They spent the rest of the time refining their concept. He found that the process was in reverse at Ford. In his own words:

“We would spend three three-quarters of our time just plastering the walls with ideas. Then we would say, ‘We’re out of time, we’ve got to execute this thing.’ So the execution would be substandard compared with what you saw coming out of Germany.”

THUNDERBIRD

Ford is among the most storied automakers in the entire industry and would therefore serve as the perfect candidate for Js nostalgic design philosophy. The first major project in this vein was the Ford Thunderbird, which debuted as a concept in 1999.

Like the Concept One, it attempted to bring the essence of the original into a new era. It leaves quite a bit to be desired in this regard, unfortunately. Inevitably, the new car was longer in both wheelbase and overall length. Some amount of bloat was expected considering the difference in taste and safety regulations in the nearly half-century separating the two cars. Still, the new Thunderbird doesn’t hide the extra sheet metal very well. The cabin is pulled far forward on the body, which shortens the hood and makes the passenger compartment and rear deck appear even longer in comparison. It looks like a front-wheel-drive car.

The proportions are a far cry from the first-generation T-Bird. On that car, the cabin is pushed further back. The third box is still rather long, but the car still looks balanced, lean, and focused. While it wasn’t an all-out sports car, it at least looked like it had sporting pretensions.

Some of the finer details also disappoint. The grille, for instance, lies nearly flush with the body. It looks like an extension of the body rather than its own element. Its chrome plating fails to elevate it. There’s something strange about how it interacts with sunlight, at least through photographs. It can be tricky to get a sense of things like that without actually seeing the car in the flesh, so I won’t hold this against it too much. The filled-in bits on the upper corners of the grille cheapen the car’s centerpiece even further. Cars often have non-functional openings in their grilles. While most of them make some effort to obscure this fact, the Thunderbird leaves them completely unexposed for the world to see.

The 1999 concept is pretty close to the production model, though this is one area where they diverge. It’s a little detail, but the show car looks more upscale for it. Lastly, the fog lights jutting into the grille are meant to reference the dagmars from the original model. There’s no way that they could have gotten those past federal regulations. Once again, the execution lets the car down. They weaken the grille and create some odd surface areas. Ford either should have integrated them into the grille or left them out altogether.

This undated sketch is an indication of what could have been. It is more in line with the original in both proportions and detailing. The grille is wider, flanked by a set of fog lights, and inset into the body. It also seems to keep the overhangs and wheelbase in check. Renderings of this sort are mere representations of ideas and are often far removed from reality. Still, one has to wonder how the production car diverged so far from this.

The interior did not receive the same attention as the exterior. Aside from the throwback instrument cluster and the T-Bird on the steering wheel, there isn’t very much distinguishing it from the Lincoln LS that it’s based on. Some versions experiment with the colors and materials, though this does little to liven the cockpit up. For a product that is intended to bring its owner to a certain point in time and fill them with a sense of nostalgia, it undermines the entire point of the car.

While the early reception was rather positive, the new Thunderbird failed to live up to the sky-high expectations that Ford had set for it. Only about 54,000 examples found buyers from its introduction in 2001 to its discontinuation in 2005, a mark far short of the projected 25,000 annual sales figure.

J Mays said they were careful to not make a caricature of a classic car but, in my eyes, that’s exactly what ended up happening.

FORTY-NINE CONCEPT

The Ford Forty-Nine concept saw the light of day in 2001. It was a product of the Living Legends Studio, a facility that opened the year prior that specialized in creating products inspired by the brand’s historic models. As the name implies, the Chip Foose-designed show car draws inspiration from the fabled 1949 Ford. Whereas the Thunderbird brought elements over for the sake of having them, the Forty-Nine left one critical feature on the cutting room floor.

The bullet-shaped central guard and grille bump have been done away with. If someone wasn’t already aware of the connection between the cars then they might have trouble linking the two. Although the affiliation between them is shaky, the Forty-Nine concept still manages to stand on its own legs. The original model was very much a vertically-focused design with the aforementioned grille details as well as the hood emblem. The concept, meanwhile, used its width to its advantage.

1949 Ford custom 300 pic3 by AlfvanBeem under CC0 1.0

The same is true for the back. The old car’s rear fins have been seriously beefed up and the lights have been integrated into the character line. The Forty-Nine also lacks the ornamentation of the original model. The chrome bumpers at the front and rear as well as the strake on the side are absent. It gets the point across with brightwork that lines the window as well as eye-catching wheels. A convertible model debuted in 2002, but the Forty-Nine project would get no further than this.

MUSTANG

The Living Legends Studio collaborated with Ford Design California in Valencia on the company’s most well-known retro-inspired project. Js new streamlined development process was on full here. On the first day, a designer suggested they carry out a research study to figure out what to build. J shut him down, saying:

“No studies. If we don’t know what a Mustang is, we should be working somewhere else.”

— J Mays

According to studio chief Doug Kaffka, the basic design was formed in three days. The small team then spent an entire year refining it. The 2003 Detroit Auto Show featured the Cadillac Sixteen, Aston Martin AMV8, and Rolls-Royce Phantom. Ford put everyone on notice when it unveiled the Mustang Coupe and Convertible concepts.

The lines are crisp and confident, yet there’s a certain softness to the surfacing that keeps the car feeling warm and approachable. It is a bit closed-up on the profile view, though. The large wheels, low roof, thick A-pillars, and high beltline make it feel bulky and a touch cumbersome. From other angles, the darkened roof comes into play and opens the cabin up.

The hood vents, side intake, and wide wheel arches are not-so-subtle hints at the car’s power and rear-drive architecture. The rear takes heavy inspiration from that of the Shelby Mustangs, with large rectangular tail lights flanking a raised roundel. A set of integrated exhaust tips also plant either side of the car.

A year later, the production model was shown to the public. While the basic overall look made it through, it has been watered down considerably. It lacks a lot of the depth and muscle that the concept had in the front end, instead opting for a flatter, more static execution. The hood, for instance, isn’t as sculpted and also does without the distinctive intakes. Under the headlights lie another notable change.

The circular housings that contained the turn indicators and auxiliary lights have been replaced by large horizontal signals. I feel this change is to the detriment of the design. They stick out, especially when the car sports more neutral tones. Little was done to integrate them into the theme. The 2007 Shelby GT500 sticks a bit closer to the concept, with angled grille edges and round circular light near the bottom of the fascia. The horizontal lights remain, though the company wasn’t likely to tool up for new components just for this model.

The profile has opened up a bit more thanks to a lower beltline and the inclusion of a small quarter window in place of the louver. On the body, the side intake has been replaced with a line that somewhat mimics that same gesture. The rear diverges significantly into the show car. Its lights are narrower and sit more in line with the body. They more strongly resemble units from non-Shelby Mustangs of yore. Its exhaust tips have been de-emphasized, as they’re set lower on the quarter panel and set apart from the body. Lastly, while the wings are still present, they pale in comparison to the defined shoulders from the concept. All in all, the 2005 Mustang is a decent enough effort that set the foundation for the next generation of Ford performance.

OTHER RETRO CONCEPTS

Let’s go back to show cars for a moment. The 427 concept debuted in 2003 and was a throwback to the large, powerful sedans of yesteryear. It certainly takes an edge from those cars, but just like the Mustang and Thunderbird before it, the lines have a certain roundness to them. The sharp lines that are present, such as on the upper corners of the headlights and inserts on the grill stand out. Powering the show car was a 427 cubic incl 7L V8 engine that makes a whopping 590 horsepower and 509 lb-ft. It never reached production, but its front-end design would grace an entire generation of Fords (with mixed results.)

2004 saw the debut of the Ford Shelby Cobra concept. It used the same formula as the original: a massive engine shoehorned into a compact roadster body. This is taken to 11 here. The Cobra concept used a 605-horsepower V10 in a footprint that was about the same length as the Audi TT of the day. At about 3,00 pounds, the car provides a raw and focused driving experience. It doesn’t have air conditioning, cupholders, a radio, or side windows. Heck, it doesn’t even have exterior door handles. Engineers made extensive use of Ford GT running gear, including its suspension and transmission. Since that car was mid-engined, it needed to be mounted at the rear in this application. A production run didn’t seem like it was out of the question since the mechanicals were readily available, but, tragically, it remained a concept.

In August of the same year, Ford unveiled the Shelby GR-1 at Pebble Beach. George Saridakis penned the machine and J Mays requested a clay mockup once he laid eyes on it. According to a 2015 Road and Track article, only three sketches in total were produced before the transition to three dimensions. This car took its inspiration from the Shelby Daytona Coupe. Both of them have striking proportions with long hoods, low cabins, and dramatic kammback tails.

The rear wheel haunches, major design elements on the ‘64 model, were exaggerated even further on the concept. The sheet metal drapes over its shoulders and delineates the wheels. The rear has also been modernized. There, it culminated in a circular feature that was inset into the body somewhat. On the GR-1, this area is defined by the character line.

Production may have been in the back of Ford’s mind for the GR1. In referring to the car, VP of product creation Phil Martens said:

“Our goal this time around was not to create the ultimate top-speed, high-performance sports car. Really, we intended to strike a better balance of design, capability, and usability that might appeal to someone considering a Ferrari 575M Maranello.”

It was not meant to be. According to a 2023 Hagarty article, the automaker performed a feasibility study and found that major adjustments would have to be made to get the car production-ready. It needed to get taller and longer, which would have put the design in jeopardy. Curb weight also had to come down to meet Ford’s 3,500-pound target. This would have been a challenge considering it was closer to 3,900 pounds. To make up for some of the difference, they contemplated replacing the V10 with an 8-cylinder engine. What really shut the door on the prospect was the GTs steep decline in sales. Ford originally planned to build 4,500 of them but only managed to move a bit over 4,000. The company thought that the same fate was in store for the GR1, so the endeavor was shelved.

In 2019, Superformance announced that it intended on building its own version of the car. The roughly-$250,000 sports car would have come with a 750-horsepower engine as well as either aluminum or carbon fiber construction. This project was also stopped dead in its tracks. The Low Volume Vehicle Manufacturers Act of 2015, a bill that would have allowed the company to be exempt from certain regulations, was halted. What's more, Superformance reckons that they wouldn’t be able to start production until two years after the bill passes (if it ever does.)

Critics of J Mays often derided his work for being too reliant on the past. He did acknowledge that heritage played a substantial role in his design philosophy but shied away from using the “retro” label, reasoning that it implied that the company didn’t take future trends into account as well. He argued that, in some ways, it is more difficult to design a new car that references an older model than it is to start with a blank sheet of paper. It takes years to see a project through to production, and designers had to predict what the market would look like while tastefully incorporating those historic cues.

Ford’s foray into retrofuturism had a fair number of peaks and a few valleys. The GT was far and away the most successful model of this sort in terms of design, though the Mustang was also a critical product for the brand. Although it didn’t have the same impact as the concept, The S197 modernized the classic Mustang ethos and made the nameplate relevant to a wide audience once again. For as many heritage-inspired concept cars that graced the auto floor, only these three cars reached production. Not all of them were going to be viable candidates, but most of Ford’s lineup was still sporting the New Edge design language. I feel that a sedan in the vein of the Forty-Nine and 427 could have tied the mainstream offerings to the halo cars and elevated the range as a whole.

The company was at the forefront of the retro revolution, so why did they stop? In short, it was because other companies took after their lead. In a 2013 interview with GreenCarDesign, he said that retro was only interesting when they could use it as a differentiator. Once other automakers put out retro designs of their own, it no longer set them apart.

021C CONCEPT

J Mays also had a hand in some forward-thinking concepts. The 021C was designed in collaboration with famed industrial designer Marc Newson. The two met through a mutual connection and decided to work on a project together. It’s always a pleasure to see how designers who aren’t specifically trained in this field approach car styling, and this one does not disappoint. The name comes from its exterior color, which is Orange 021C in the Pantone color catalog.

Rounded, organic shapes are prioritized here. The stubby overhangs and light signatures are evidence of this. The detailing in the glass plays into this as well. Take note of the rounded window forms as well as how the front and rear screens curve onto the profile. A trio of metallic caps gives the C a bit of structure. The one in the back calls attention to a rather unusual storage compartment. Instead of popping upwards like a typical boot, the car utilizes a sliding door that opens like a drawer.

Coachwork doors and a swiveling driver’s seat aid in the entry and exit of the car. The interior is chock full of references to Newson’s products. His Sygma Hook wall hanger inspired the look of the steering wheel while the seats appear to be a precursor to the Nimrod Chair, which he designed in 2002. All of the instruments were located in the center of the dashboard. The speedometer occupies its own dial while all of the other gauges are crammed together in a housing that strongly resembles a chronograph watch complication. More specifically, it echoes the design of the Hemipod Watch that he did for Ikepod a year earlier.

This car debuted at the Tokyo Motor Show in January of 2000. The following April, it was shown at a furniture fair in Milan wearing bright green paint. It received a mixed reception initially. Traditional automotive journalists were a bit cold to it because of how it diverged from traditional practices. Critics from other realms of design typically saw it through a different lens and could at least appreciate what it was setting out to do.

MA CONCEPT

2002 saw the release of the MA concept. According to a 2003 Motor Trend article, it was intended to predict what a car in the vein of the Lotus 7 would look like 10 to 20 years in the future. Well, we’re 21 years on from it and it’s safe to say that the timeframe was a bit optimistic.

Goauto.com.au says that Ma is the Japanese term for “the space between.”

“The philosophy refers to a kind of threshold where two concepts can exist in a mutually beneficial relationship. As a car, the MA is meant to represent the same idea, occupying a space between emotional and rational, art and science.”

It used a small electric motor which, when taken together with its 900-pound curb weight, could provide thrills similar to the British sportster. A 2019 CarDesignNews piece by Karl Smith notes that “environmental responsibility” was a major priority. It was more than 96 percent recyclable and incorporated bamboo, an eco-friendly material that grew back once every five years.

J said that it would be sold in kit-car form “from a dealership, hardware store, or via the internet.”

24.7 CONCEPT

The 24.7 concepts looked to the future in terms of technology. They were developed in collaboration with Visteon, an automotive technology supplier. And yes, there were multiple iterations of them. The wagon was designed to adapt to the needs of families. A pickup variant was designed for rural buyers. Lastly, the coupe was right at home in the city. They all carried the same design language and connectivity-focused technology. It featured an in-vehicle internet browser that worked with the onboard voice control system that could relay information to the occupants. A large interface took the place of a traditional IP. Owners could customize the readouts to their tastes. This foretold of the massive touchscreens that are gaining prominence in today's industry.

The 24.7 concepts looked to the future in terms of technology. They were developed in collaboration with Visteon, an automotive technology supplier, and yes, there were several variations. The wagon adapted to the needs of families, the pickup was intended for rural buyers, and the coupe was at home in urban environments. All of them shared styling cues as well as a focus on connectivity and technology. They featured in-vehicle internet browsers that worked with the voice control system to relay information to the occupants. Large screens look the place of a traditional IP. These foretold the proliferation of touchscreen interfaces in modern cars. Like the 021C, the 24.7 got the cold shoulder when it debuted. Critics loathed the boxy, utilitarian styling and wrote off the technology inside. J said the following in Retrofuturism:

“In some ways, 24.7 is actually a failure as a concept. It was an attempt to show what the future of the car could be but, in reality, people weren’t able to embrace the concept fully because they weren’t able to see the exteriors as anything other than boxes housing innovative technology. People became so focused on the boxes they weren’t able to really see or appreciate the tremendous amount of information these vehicles made available to drivers and occupants. Of course, we carry the lessons of the past over into new designs. But, at the time, people just weren’t ready for it.”

LATER YEARS

J Mays retired from Ford in January 2014. Moray Callum assumed the role of VP of Design. Interestingly, J agreed that he wouldn’t work for other automakers. He was far from calling it quits. In 2015, he became a visiting professor at the Royal College of Art in London. Whirlpool also appointed him as its chief design officer, a position he held until 2021.

And he also helped create the cars in Pixar’s Zootopia. The animation studio contacted him to see if was interested in the job. J, probably knowing that this was the closest that he’d get to designing cars, accepted the offer. It handed him a lineup of 30 different animals along with their measurements. He made sketches and then handed them off to the 3D team. The two parties kept in close contact to ensure that the cars worked on the universe and, if possible, reflected the character's personalities.

J Mays turned an unlikely entrance into the world of car design into a long and exciting career. He helped an entire generation of buyers reconnect with the automobile and is definitely an industry icon!

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