Simon Starling A-A', B-B'

Giovanni Battista Tiepolo, A Halberdier in a Landscape, 1736—38 (Formerly the right-hand portion of The Finding of Moses) Collection Pinacoteca Giovanni e Marella Agnelli, Turin Fiat 125 Special, 1968 / Cutaway View (Front Section) (2019) was included in Simon Starling’s sixth solo exhibition at The Modern Institute, A-A’, B-B’ (7 September — 26 October 2019). A key element in an expansive new body of work, composed of an intricate network of objects and images held together by physical transformations and juxtapositions, historical facts and speculation, and the artist’s own brand of logic. The project’s second part was exhibited at Galleria Franco Noero, in October, 2019.

The exhibition’s title refers to two cuts, made approximately two hundred years apart, through two very different objects — Giambattista Tiepolo’s The Finding of Moses and a blue Fiat 125 Special, which was a favourite car of Giovanni Agnelli, the former head of the Turin-based manufacturer and an influential Italian industrialist. Starling’s ability to identify connections in seemingly disparate narratives ties the story of the cutting of The Finding of Moses to the Fiat supremo.

The Finding of Moses (executed circa 1736—38) takes a humble biblical story and glamorously restages it in the context of, what appears to be, 17th-century courtly splendour with all the accompanying trappings; ladies-in-waiting, halberdiers, dwarfs and sylphlike greyhounds. Even the lowly halberdiers are dressed in noble finery. These aristocratic thoroughbreds inhabit a painting of typically eloquent artificiality and contrivance, a masquerade of sorts. In the early 19th century, Tiepolo’s dramatic painting was cut into two unequal parts, splitting the originally panoramic painting into a more conventionally centred scene, The Finding of Moses, and the somewhat unconventionally proportioned A Halberdier in a Landscape. The Finding of Moses was placed with the National Galleries of Scotland, whilst the smaller half, A Halberdier in a Landscape, found itself in a private collection, Pinacoteca Giovanni e Marella Agnelli, Turin. Expanding on this unique division of Tiepolo’s painting, Starling introduces Giovanni Agnelli himself into his ‘masquerade’.

Giovanni Agnelli lived a rarefied and glamorous life. Despite his obvious wealth, he sought to maintain a connection with the ordinary people of Turin including his own factory workers. This was manifested not only in his family’s ties to Juventus Football Club but also in his choice of cars. As well as owning a wide range of exclusive, custom-built models, Agnelli was well known for his collection of standard production vehicles. He was often seen driving a blue Fiat 125 Special, a modest standard issue family saloon. The car’s unique number plate, A00000 TO, referring to his nickname L’Avvocato, signalling to the people of the city that he was in town.

While Gianni Agnelli, known as L’Avvocato (the Lawyer), was a man of almost inestimable wealth, he didn’t own a wallet. He probably didn’t even know what banknotes looked like. He used to fly to the airport from his villa in the hills of Turin in his private helicopter, and owned a mahogany yacht with amaranth-coloured sails. He wore his watch on the cuff of his shirt, and his tie without a knot. Why then did he drive 125,000 kilometers in a Fiat 125, an ordinary production car? There must be something going on here. In actual fact, there are two parallel stories; the mechanical one of the Fiat 125 and a sort of philosophical one about Fiat’s top brass keeping a low profile.

People like Ingvar Kamprad, the man behind Ikea, might come to mind. Driving a modest Å koda and the same 1993 Volvo for twenty years, he had a saying that “if there is such a thing as good leadership, it is to give a good example”. But a more fitting example is perhaps someone closely linked to Agnelli and to Fiat — Vittorio Valletta, Fiat chairman for a full twenty years. Chairman Valletta drove to work in a Fiat 500, the most modest car in the factory’s entire range.¹

A few factors can perhaps help explain the low profile adopted by the eminent personalities who oversaw the work of thousands of people — in the 1960s Fiat employed about 160,000 people. One such factor is the geographical location of Turin. The city is hemmed in by the Alps, some distance away from the major Italian arteries of Milan-Rome-Naples and Milan-Venice. Rather like in the case of Switzerland, this essential isolation has given rise to an austere genius loci in which industries dealing in mechanics, textiles, aeronautics and printing were established. This sense of austerity was compounded by a restrained but significant religious presence — most significantly the Salesians of Don Bosco, a Catholic organization founded by the Italian priest St. John Bosco (Turin, 1815-1888) in 1845 to educate poor children during the Industrial Revolution.

Future Fiat employees are trained in highly disciplined schools, in which the education of the individual student’s character comes before that of traditional academic teaching, and where all students wear a white shirt and a tie. Negligent students are permanently expelled and lose any automatic right to a job at “Mamma Fiat” and of a career based in part on certain acquired social skills, which include a fundamental degree of understatement.²

The Fiat 125 model first appeared in 1967. It quickly morphed into the 125 S version in 1968, with a more powerful engine and a sportier feel. In 1969 ⁵, a team of practically unknown young drivers, Pino Ceccato, Cristiano Rattazzi, and Luca Cordero di Montezemolo, took part in the 84-hour Marathon de la Route at the Nürburgring, a grueling three-day race (only 19 of the 65cars made it to the finishing line), in which they came ninth overall. An amazing result againstcars that were far more famous — the Porsche 911, the BMW 2002, and the Lancia Fulvia HF.The result speaks for itself: beneath the elegant, reassuring look of this bright family car, whichhad something American about it, the Fiat 125 concealed a robust, extremely reliable vehiclewith the (mechanical) heart of a lion.

Elegance and power. How could Gianni Agnelli, a man himself so elegant and powerful, not become as one with this car — this mechanical toy produced by his company’s engineers? The experimental construction department of the Fiat pilot plant customised a Fiat 125 S for L’Avvocato, well aware of his love for special materials, for beautifully-worked sheets of steel, dark colours and restrained forms that should never be flashy, while perfectly reflecting the flat skyline of Turin ¬— the name of which forms part of the acronym FIAT: Fabbrica Italiana Automobili Torino — “Italian Car Factory Turin”.

Gianni Agnelli was deeply attached to the city of Turin and, even though he was a citizen of the world with residences in Rome, Paris, St Moritz, and New York, the “mechanical” city of Turin was his spiritual home. He loved to drive along the straight metaphysical streets of this automaton-city that many referred to as “his own property”. This is the philosophy with which one chooses the car one loves: a perfect molecule on wheels. You could get into the 125 S and sit down without taking off your hat ... the quintessential elegance of Turin. You could put a Agnelli used to smoke. And he smoked a lot. His car was fitted with no fewer than three whole demijohn of wine into the boot of the 125 S .... the mark of Piedmont. Later on, the tests no longer called for a demijohn of wine but a new object to be used to calibrate the size of the boot: a golf bag.

L’Avvocato did not like leather or patent-leather seats. Too hot in the summer, and too cold in winter. Lanificio Ermenegildo Zegna was commissioned to produce a pure woolen fabric for upholstering the seats of the 125 S (white cotton covers for the summer). The stitching was of course specially designed, in six parallel rows, not too different from the stitching used on the cushions and upholstery for his beloved yacht.

Agnelli used to smoke. And he smoked a lot. His car was fitted with no fewer than three ashtrays, and three aerials emerged from the roof and from the top of the boot (never mind the aesthetics!) for the three onboard satellite phones. He loved dark blue — perhaps an unconscious reminder of the dark blue sea that became his home during regattas. A new colour, “Blu Agnelli” was developed — a shade of blue with a touch of black. The 125 S had slightly metallic paintwork — probably another tribute to the ever-changing blue of the sea. Music came from two Pioneer loudspeakers (a feature certainly not found in the usual production model). The engine was souped-up and the car was fitted with an automatic gearbox, which L’Avvocato did not particularly appreciate, because, as we know, he liked to drive his cars himself, and in a very sporty manner.⁶

Just a few extra touches to the interior and it was ready for its license plates. The car was assigned the registration number TO A00000, as the millionth car to be registered in the city of Turin.⁷ D’Aloia, his trusty and highly discreet chauffeur, went to pick up the car that Gianni Agnelli would love more than any other. The vehicle started out on a long career that would end after 124,891 kilometers.