TG’s guide to concepts: the 1970 Porsche Tapiro

When the greats of car design put forth their newest concepts, they’re hoping for a concept car that debuts with a bang. Metaphorically speaking, of course. 

Unfortunately, the story of this gorgeous, wedge-shaped Porsche ends with a bang of the very literal variety. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

As you might be able to notice, the Tapiro looks quite a bit like the De Tomaso Mangusta, which is a car so visually arresting that you want to handcuff yourself to it. Little wonder, then, that the Tapiro is a seriously pretty bit of kit. It is also about the wedgiest that Porsche has ever been – and please do argue that point in the comments if you think we’ve missed something. 

Unlike so many of the gorgeous concept shapes you tend to see at motor shows, the Tapiro was designed from the outset to work as a road car. 

It was based on the engine and running gear of the Porsche 914/6. That meant a mid-mounted flat six engine, rear-wheel drive and independent suspension – but instead of the 108bhp on offer in the 914, the Tapiro had closer to 220bhp and would do 152mph. It was a genuine, roadworthy supercar. 

And this is quite important to its final fate.

After a debut at the Turin Motor Show and an encore performance at the (deep breath) Los Angeles Imported Automobile and Sports Car Show, the Tapiro eventually found its way into private hands in 1972. A Spanish businessman decided that the combination of Giugiaro design and Porsche engineering was just too tempting to overlook. And we don’t blame him for a second. 

The story goes that the unnamed Spanish industrialist used the distinctive Tapiro as his daily driver, until that practice was suddenly and permanently ended. 

Yes, we’re sad to say that little remains of the Tapiro.

The official line is that the only Tapiro in existence was the victim of a car accident, which resulted in the horrifyingly burnt condition that you see here.

The remains were reclaimed by Giugiaro (likely accompanied by much wailing and gnashing of teeth) and currently resides, unrestored, in the Italdesign archives. 

Perhaps it’s better to have driven and lost, rather than to have never driven at all. Or do you think that Giugiaro should never have let the Tapiro out of his sight?