COMMENT: "The Geneva Motor Show has gone with a whimper not a bang, but I'll miss it"
After a series of false starts followed by a weak 2024 edition, the Geneva Motor Show has reached the end of the road. Jason Barlow offers a personal post-mortem of what was the premier show in the automotive calendar
Has anyone ever actually enjoyed a motor show? Whatever your feelings, it’s an idea that appears to have run out of road.
New York and LA, never truly tier one events in the automotive calendar, persist in their efforts to reinvent themselves as showcases for mobility solutions. Sounds tempting, right? The tech sector has CES in Vegas, a vast conclave of hi-def 4K AI televisions and drones that has been annexed by some of the car industry’s brightest players. But have you been to it? Have you been to a trade show in Vegas? Truly, this is the seventh circle of hell. With Elvis impersonators and swirly carpet.
The German giants, meanwhile, have tamed their predeliction for self-aggrandisement – as seen in Frankfurt’s sprawling Messe megalopolis – and shifted the centre of gravity to Munich, specifically the city’s charming historic centre. It’s friendlier and more inclusive. Hell, there are even hints of humility. Approximately half a million visitors attended in 2023 but the jury’s still out.
And then there’s Geneva. That ship has sailed, metaphorically, and has found sanctuary in that other well-known hotbed of automotive activity: Qatar. The final indignity. Some of us made the pilgrimage to the show this year (Geneva, that is, not Qatar, sorry but that’s never going to happen), and realised the game was up when it became apparent that the best thing in a sparsely populated Palexpo was the ‘100 years of icons’ celebration. Two Bugatti Royales, a Ferrari 500 Superfast, the madcap Renault Espace F1, a VW Golf GTI Mk1 and an original Toyota Corolla sat amongst a total of 40 cars that threw serious shade on the Adrenaline Zone and the Next World by Gran Turismo sections. We’re talking rose-tinted windscreens here.
The organisers tried their best but to no avail. With the new electric R5 to reveal, Renault ploughed on as if all was right with the world, but it was the only European OEM of note in attendance. Plucky restomodder Kimera was able to celebrate Lancia’s motorsport heritage on the exact spot which Alfa Romeo, Fiat and Lancia once celebrated themselves. The Salon’s beleaguered committee observed that ongoing uncertainty linked to the automotive industry and the “eroded attractiveness” of the major European shows signalled the end of the Geneva International Motor Show.
You sensed a certain insouciance on the part of the organisers, but that might be euphemistic. People I spoke to on the manufacturer side were less polite
“This extremely regrettable decision should not detract from the efforts and determination with which we have tried to regain our success,” said committee president Alexandre de Senarclens a trifle high-handedly, and located in a postcode somewhere well north of contrition.
“However it has to be said that the lack of interest shown by manufacturers in the Geneva Salon in a difficult industry context, the competition from the Paris and Munich shows which are favoured by their domestic industry, and the investment levels required to maintain such a show sound the final blow for a future edition.”
About that lack of interest. It might have something to do with the fact that attending GIMS as a car maker had become a multi-million pound pain in the derrière. Traditional show stands had long since given way to two or three-storey modular modernist edifices, designed to be quickly erected and dismantled, and whose decor had to resonate perfectly with each brand’s meticulously defined CI. One insider confided that their set-up – new for that year’s show – had cost in excess of £10m and was unlikely to be used anywhere else bar Geneva.
So there was that, and also the fact that hotel rooms cost a fortune and had to be booked for five days, irrespective of the fact that most guests were staying for 48 hours at best. The numbers no longer stacked up. Greed is rarely good.
Covid, it’s said, accelerated a lot of underlying trends, including our dwindling appetite for tramping round airless exhibition hangars. The car world was 48 hours away from decamping to Geneva when the decision was made – remarkably late, in retrospect – to cancel the 2020 show. You sensed a certain insouciance on the part of the organisers, but that might be euphemistic. People I spoke to on the manufacturer side were less polite.
The concept of a static motor show was already looking anachronistic in the social media world, and when Covid came calling it turned out that it was pushing on a closing door.
So allow me to sound a positive note. I’ve attended every Geneva motor show since 1996 and thoroughly enjoyed them all. Although the Detroit auto show was historically the first of the new year, that was by definition more US-centric and therefore limited in scope. It’s often still snowy and sub-zero in Geneva in early March, but nonetheless it always felt like the event that fired the starting gun on the new automotive year.
Even among the professionally jaded media corps, there were flickerings of genuine excitement. Sometimes a major new car would be unveiled that no-one had prior knowledge of. Imagine.
Geneva had an outstanding track record when it comes to concept cars, and I loved it for that
A brief history might be appropriate here. The first Swiss National Automobile and Cycle Exhibition was held in the city in 1905, but it wasn’t until 1924 that the event was deemed international. A test track was even provided on the left bank of Lake Geneva, and the comité permanent was established. In 1925, visitor numbers exceeded 100,000 for the first time, and a new Palais des Expositions was constructed.
Porsche announced itself formally to the world in 1949 at the show, Ferrari’s first Geneva car was the 250 MM in 1953, the Jaguar E-type an even more celebrated new arrival in 1961. On that occasion, PR man Bob Berry and famed test driver Norman Dewis famously drove a car overnight to arrive in time for press day. (I had a good catch-up with Dewis in Geneva on the 50th anniversary in 2011.) Then there was the Mercedes SL, Lamborghini Miura and Countach, Porsche 917, Audi Quattro, and hundreds more. Look at the image of the Quattro taken on its 1980 debut and tell me that it doesn’t still look like the automotive future we all imagined was coming…
At its peak, 600,000 visitors attended the Geneva show, and 10,000 global media. Even now, my image of it is the one forged in my childhood consumption of CAR magazine or Motor. There was palpable glamour and prestige. The reality of sweaty roundtables with the CEO of Fiat, Mercedes or Renault couldn’t dent that. Frankly, it always felt like a privilege to be there. As the first big European show of the year, pretty much everyone would go.
Geneva has gone with a whimper rather than a bang, and few have mourned its passing. But I’ll miss it
I first met Giorgetto Giugiaro at Geneva, in 1997, and went on to interview every important design boss, usually while doing a walkround on their latest concept study. Geneva has an outstanding track record when it comes to concept cars, and I loved it for that. This was real-life Top Trumps, and there were countless moments to savour. Sadly, concept cars, also expensive undertakings, are on a similarly downward trajectory.
I remember being bundled into a room for a hastily convened one-on-one with then Porsche R&D chief Wolfgang Durheimer half an hour after the wraps had come off the 918 Spyder (this was in 2010, and it was one of those cars no-one had been tipped off about). No time to prepare, so I just winged it. In 2013, I found myself standing slap-bang between Ferrari President Luca di Montezemolo and McLaren kingpin Ron Dennis when the latter decided to check out the LaFerrari, which was unveiled at the same Geneva show as the McLaren P1.
“All I can say is there’s nothing lala about our car!” he hissed. Ferdinand Piëch and his 20-strong entourage swept into view not long after, an imperious, intimidating sight. We were all there to do a job, of course, but Geneva was always the best show for people watching. Its relatively compact size ensured that, though I once hosted an event during one of the public days and couldn’t believe how busy it was. As ever, the media had no idea how lucky they really were.
The future seems to lie in big-ticket events like Goodwood’s Festival of Speed or the ever-expanding Monterey Car Week. Geneva has gone with a whimper rather than a bang, and few have mourned its passing. But I’ll miss it.
