Rolling Sculptures: The Art of Maserati.

Over the course of an hour-long interview, Maserati’s head of design, Klaus Busse, explains how he and his team shape voluptuous, luxurious high-performance automobiles inspired by Leonardo da Vinci’s fusion of art and science. Looking to the future while honouring the past, balancing elegance and muscularity, “We aim to create rolling sculptures rather than ostentatious statements,” he explains.

Maserati's head of design Klaus Busse ponders the lines of the MC20.

Christian Barker: A few years ago, I had the chance to visit the Panini Museum in Modena — a beautiful collection of classic Maserati cars which, as I’m sure you know, is housed on the grounds of an organic parmesan cheese farm. Staff there told me that Maserati’s designers often visit the museum to explore the marque’s past. What inspiration do you get from a place like that? Or perhaps from attending events like the Mille Miglia, or the Concorso d’Eleganza at Villa d’Este? What do you gain from those experiences?

Klaus Busse: Yes, I know the Panini collection very well, and I’ve taken my team there. It’s always amazing — you’re basically driving onto a farm, and suddenly, there’s this incredible collection of beautiful Maseratis. Some of the cars are true one-offs; they don’t exist anywhere else. It’s absolutely mind-blowing.But first, let me talk about the Concours d’Elegance. I’m a judge at a couple of European Concours, and the experience has been eye-opening. When you’re judging cars, it’s not just about how perfectly they’re restored. It’s about the story of the car—the ownership, the design impact. What I take away from that is the realisation that the work my team and I are doing now will be judged 30 or 40 years from now by the next generation. A lot of the Maseratis we’re building now, like the MCXtrema hypercar, with its limited run of 62 pieces, will find their way into these kinds of collections. It’s an incredible reminder of the responsibility we carry. 

Museum piece: A 1934 Maserati 6C34. This Grand Prix race car had a top speed of 250km/h — remarkably quick for its day. 

I also participated in the Mille Miglia one year, which was a mind-blowing experience, driving amongst those historic cars. It’s a reminder of the energy and the history of Maserati, particularly in the 1950s. That was an absolutely beautiful era for Maserati. We were building cars for kings, queens, and movie stars—cars that were so exclusive. It’s not just about the design; it’s also about the world around it. The late ‘50s, the Mille Miglia era, was a wonderful time.

Molto elegante: An icon from the Dolce Vita period, the Maserati 3500 GT. 

Another important thing about the ‘50s is that our cars, at that time, were extremely elegant. From the ‘50s to the mid-’60s, our cars were elegant. Then, from 1966 to the late ‘70s, with models like the Ghibli and Bora, we became a bit more provocative and dandy. The ‘80s and ‘90s were more pragmatic, and at the beginning of the 2000s, we embraced a more romantic style. But those ‘50s and early-’60s cars — like the 3500 GT — had incredible proportions, because the chassis was designed for performance, and the designers dressed that performance in beautiful forms. Those proportions made the cars calm and refined, much like a Brioni suit — something that amplifies the character of the driver rather than overpowering them.

CB: Regardless of era, what are the core elements of Maserati’s design language or iconography that you believe are non-negotiable?

KB: We always remind ourselves of our reason for existence — why does Maserati exist? Our brand is all about the concept of gran turismo. I know we have a car called the GranTurismo, but it’s really a concept — a car that allows you to drive comfortably in style over long distances, and yet you can stop at a racetrack, do a hot lap, and still feel right at home. Very few brands can offer both comfort and track performance in one package.

Busse sketches the curvaceous form of a Maserati GranTurismo.

 When it comes to design, performance drives certain technical necessities that influence the proportions. We respect that and don’t fight against it. But at the same time, we stay true to the elegance of our heritage. Our cars, like the Grecale, GranTurismo, and MC20, have clean designs. We aim to create rolling sculptures rather than ostentatious statements. We never want to be part of the negative conversation around cars in city centres. Our goal is to maintain respect and admiration for Maserati cars wherever they are.

It’s not just about the Trident logo. The Trident is a weapon of a mythical god, and when you visit Bologna and see the statue of Neptune holding the Trident, he’s not brandishing it threateningly — he’s holding it almost nonchalantly. That’s how I see our cars. You don’t need to do a burnout at a traffic light to prove yourself. You carry the Trident and everything it represents with quiet confidence.

On the interior, we’ve made a significant shift. We’re known for classical craftsmanship — wood, carbon fibre, leather — but entering the electric age gave us an opportunity to innovate with materials. We’re using recycled nylon with laser-etched patterns, which you wouldn’t expect in a Maserati. We call it the ‘balance of opposites,’ where you still get the expected Maserati luxury but with cutting-edge technology. We were actually the first in the automotive market to use some of these innovations, like recycled nylon, which had only been used in luxury fashion before.

The fully electric Maserati GranCabrio Folgore (Italian for 'thunderbolt').

CB: You mentioned moving into the electric era. I’ve read that for many car manufacturers with distinctive grilles — like BMW and Rolls-Royce, for example — adapting to electric vehicles has posed an interesting design challenge. How is Maserati working around altering the design vernacular for this new age? What are the challenges, and equally, what opportunities do these engineering changes open up?

KB: At Maserati, we embrace the philosophy that if we put a hole in a car, it has to serve a purpose — air goes in, or air goes out. Right now, a lot of cars have fake exhaust pipes or grilles that are mostly cosmetic. That’s not us. For example, on the MC20, the way we’ve packaged the intercooler intake is almost invisible, unlike other brands that might emphasise it.

With electrification, the cooling requirements are reduced, which aligns perfectly with our design philosophy of keeping things pure. On our current models, like the Grecale and GranTurismo, which have electric versions, we’ve inverted the grille design. Previously, most of the grille was open, and now we’ve closed it up, only leaving the necessary openings. This reflects the fact that even though electric cars require less cooling, they still need some airflow.

The GranTurismo Folgore. Busse believes electrification is giving auto designers "new architectural opportunities."

As for aerodynamics, we’ve made small modifications, like more aerodynamically efficient wheels. The big story, though, is the engineering. Our engineers have done incredible work with the electric platform, ensuring that our electric cars maintain the same low seating position as the combustion models, preserving the driving experience. They kept the battery pack inside the car, between the seats, rather than raising everything up. This keeps the centre of gravity low and ensures the car behaves beautifully on the road.

 CB: I recently read an interview with Leica’s head of design, who mentioned that the purity of Leica’s design comes from engineering a camera’s internal components first and then figuring out the exterior. It seems like a similar approach at Maserati.

KB: Absolutely. Maseratis have always looked amazing because of their incredible proportions, which are driven by performance. In the ‘70s, for example, when we went mid-engine with the Bora, those new proportions created a more aggressive style. The same thing is happening now with electrification — it’s giving us new architectural opportunities.

Car design must evolve with the times, Busse says, just as a musician's sound evolves over the years. Pictured here, the Maserati MC20 Iris.

This is a fantastic moment for our designers. We’re a bit like a rock band, reinventing ourselves every 10 years. The 1950s, ’60s, ’70s, ’80s and ’90s all had their own distinct Maserati design language, and now we’re in another period of significant change. It’s not just designers getting bored — it’s driven by new technologies, societal changes, and, of course, the evolution of our engines and architecture.

CB: Giorgetto Giugiaro, who repeatedly collaborated with Maserati, was one of the great innovators in your field. His more avant-garde, angular designs were once frowned upon, but are now being reappraised. Giugiaro’s wedge designs are reflected in cars like the Cybertruck, for example. Do you ever see Maserati embracing an aesthetic that’s more angular and boxy again, as opposed to the quite voluptuous and sensual lines you’re famous for?

KB: I can’t reveal what we’re working on just yet, what’s in the kitchen, but I can tell you that we are indeed philosophically exploring these elements. When I think of cars like the Boomerang concept, it was very angular, but the interior was still luxurious. Giugiaro’s designs for the Ghibli and the Bora were also very pure and minimalistic.

The great Giorgetto Giugiaro's one-of-a-kind 1971 concept car, the Maserati Boomerang. Below: Giugiaro's Maserati Bora, which entered production in 1971.

We’re looking at how we can balance our past with future trends, finding ways to embrace more angular forms without losing the elegance and sophistication that define Maserati. It’s an exciting challenge. I remember when the Cybertruck came out, I was one of the first in the design community to publicly embrace it. I said, ‘Congratulations!’ because I knew it would make us all talk, right? I really admired the courage behind it.

Now, would we do something like that at Maserati? For us, design is about much more than just aesthetics. It involves balancing the traditions of Maserati with forward-thinking innovation. When I joined Maserati, about nine years ago, one of the first things I did was bring up the subject of electrification. At that time, there was no electrification in our plans at all, but as designers, it’s our job to project into the future. The challenge, of course, was that Maserati is known for the incredible sound of our combustion engines — some of the best-sounding engines ever made, like the V8 of the previous GranTurismo. But we had to consider what the future might look like without that sound.

A magnificent Maserati A6GCS pauses to genuflect before the Basilica di Superga in Turin.

I remember showing the team a video of a 1954 Maserati A6GCS driving through the streets of old Brescia after the Mille Miglia. The car’s engine had this amazing sound, but I asked them to mute it and play classical music instead. When we did that, we all got goosebumps. We realised that the future could be even more exciting — because we don’t rely on the sound alone. If you mute the sound, the car becomes even more of a rolling sculpture. And that’s how we’ve been approaching our designs.

This idea of a ‘rolling sculpture’ is really important to us. Sculptures can be angular —just look at Cubism — but we humans are subconsciously drawn to more organic shapes. Something angular and sharp often comes across as aggressive, like a weapon. It might be cool in the moment, but it’s not something you fall in love with. There’s a reason we still admire Michelangelo’s David — there’s tension and muscle, but it’s also human. That’s what we aim for in our designs.

Tension and muscle: The Maserati GranCabrio Folgore, rolling sculpturally.

CB: When you speak about peering into the future, it’s interesting you mention Renaissance art. The Renaissance, of course, looked back to classical times after a period when art had become more two-dimensional and less realistic. I’m curious — how do you, as a designer, balance creating something forward-looking while also integrating touches of the past? Your challenge is to define what a modern Maserati looks like while still making it recognisable as a Maserati, as part of a family lineage. How do you achieve that?

KB: When we talk about Maserati and the Renaissance, we often look to Leonardo da Vinci, who combined science and art. In many ways, science drove his art, and that’s how we approach Maserati design. Performance comes first. We can create a beautiful car, but if it doesn’t perform, what’s the point? So, the science — the performance — drives the art. That’s part of our design DNA.

Family resemblance: The GranTurismo, past and present. 

I’m active on social media because I love interacting with people who are passionate about Maserati. Often, people will say, ‘That’s not a Maserati!’ But I always ask, ‘Which Maserati are you referring to? Are you talking about the 3500 GT from the 1950s? The Boomerang from the ’70s? The Shamal from the ’90s?’ Maserati design has evolved significantly over the years. Italian design, in general, is about doing the best you can in the moment, not about sticking to a rigid formula. 

For example, if you go to a German car launch, they’ll often show you the last 10 generations of the same car in a row, highlighting careful evolution. You wouldn’t see that with Maserati. Each new generation of our cars is distinct. The Italians don’t work like the Germans — the Italians aim to do the best they can at that moment. That’s Italian design.

CB: What disciplines outside of automotive design inspire you?

KB: I think inspiration can come from anywhere. My eyes are always open. But for me, inspiration isn’t about seeing a colour and bringing it into the design studio. It’s more about recharging creatively — being awestruck by what others are doing. Architects like Zaha Hadid and Santiago Calatrava inspire me because they can turn a building into a city’s landmark. I visited Expo 2020 in Dubai twice, and the immersive experiences using cutting-edge technology were mind-blowing. What fascinates me is how technology can be used to tell emotional stories — stories that touch your soul and give you goosebumps. That’s something I took away from Dubai.

The MC20 Icona. Busse says he is influenced by architects like the late Zaha Hadid (whose Argos Residences, Austria, is pictured below).

I also listen to a lot of podcasts. Interestingly, I’m often more inspired by conversations with people I didn’t know about beforehand. Famous people tend to stay on message, but when you have someone passionate who isn’t worried about fame, they often share something truly profound.

I observe trends across different industries, like fashion, where you have brands like Hermès that stay true to their path, and others like Balenciaga pushing the extremes. Both approaches are valid and successful. I learn from observing how these brands present themselves, more than from any one designer’s work.

CB: What inspired you to take on this vocation, Klaus? Did you have an ‘ah-ha’ moment when you realised this was what you wanted to do with your life? Is there a definitive moment you can recall when you thought, ‘Yes, I’m going to be an automotive designer’?

KB: It was more of a slow progression. A few elements came together. I grew up in a very rural part of Germany, where not much was happening. My car culture came entirely from TV shows in the mid-80s when I was a teenager—shows like Magnum, P.I. and Miami Vice, with all their sports cars. Looking back, I realise that in all the TV shows I watched, the car was often a protagonist. But I only made that connection later on.

A 1981 Maserati Quattroporte just like this appeared in the first season of car-centric undercover cop show, Miami Vice. 

There was also a significant influence from family friends who were designers and owned a graphic design agency. At the time, I didn’t fully understand what design meant, but I found it to be the most promising word I’d ever heard. It felt like the key to the world, even before I connected it with car design. The word ‘design’ itself resonated deeply with me, especially because I was influenced by American TV shows. It wasn’t a German word, but it felt like a prophecy. It took me a while to realise that you could bring these two things together — design and cars. The process started with the typical steps: school education and meeting the right people at the right time. But it all began with a love of car culture in TV and an introduction to the idea of design. It probably really clicked for me around age 16 or 17.

CB: We must be around the same age because the walls of my bedroom as a young kid were covered in posters of the Miami Vice Ferraris, and things like the De Tomaso Pantera, 911 Turbos with gigantic spoilers, white Lamborghinis...

KB: Yes, exactly! I had the same posters — either the Testarossa or the Countach. For you, it was the same?

Maximalist motoring: the MCXtrema hypercar. Only 62 are being produced. 

CB: Absolutely. I think the amazing thing about cars from that era, for so many of them, it was all about adding extra stuff — spoilers, wheel guards — just adding more to the car. Today, the dominant design approach is to take things away until you can remove no more — that Jony Ive minimalist philosophy, making products with absolutely no buttons or anything extraneous.

KB: I think during my teenage years and early 20s, I was all about ‘more is more,’ but now my perspective has shifted. Now, looking back, the very first version of the Countach — the LP 400, the purest version — is actually the most beautiful one.

You bring up an interesting point about design. I don’t entirely believe in the idea of removing as much as possible. It’s more about taking away what doesn’t add value. I wouldn’t add something purely for decoration, but I believe in creating something with elements that have real meaning. It’s not just about stripping things down.

If you pursue extreme minimalism, you can back yourself into a corner; that might not be the best place to be. In our case at Maserati, longevity is not just about timeless design but also about ensuring the product lives up to its purpose. Sometimes that means not adhering strictly to the ‘less is more’ philosophy.