Things to Know About the 1970 Ferrari 512 S Modulo

Close your eyes. Imagine a spaceship landing in 1970. Now paint it Ferrari red. That’s the 512 S Modulo.
Fifty-plus years haven’t dulled its shock value. Not one bit. This isn’t just a concept car; it’s a rebellion cast in fiberglass, still the wildest dream Ferrari ever dared to wheel onto a stage.

The Birth: When Pininfarina Said “Hold My Espresso”
Ferrari and Pininfarina? A legendary duo. They gave us the Testarossa, the 250 GTE… beauties. But for the 1970 Geneva Motor Show, they didn’t want beauty. They wanted revolution. Enter Paolo Martin – a design wizard (Rolls-Royce Camargue, Lancia Montecarlo) – rumored to have sketched this years earlier. Bosses back then blinked: “Too much. Too soon.”
1970? They finally sighed: “Alright, Paolo. Unleash it.”

The Look: Not a Car. A Sculpture That Ate the Rulebook.
Forget “sleek.” The Modulo was a slab of frozen lightning. A wedge so low, it practically slithered. Wheels half-swallowed by the body? Check. Doors? Laughable. You entered through a single, sweeping glass canopy that slid forward like a fighter jet’s cockpit. Getting in wasn’t practical; it was ceremonial. Inside? A cockpit wrapped in Alcantara clouds, cradling you in screaming red leather. The steering wheel? A sci-fi marvel that retracted, connected by four spokes pointing inward like some alien artifact. Every detail screamed: “The future is NOW.”

The Guts: Race Car in Disguise (…Eventually)
Beneath that wild skin beat the heart of a monster: a chassis from one of just 25 ferocious Ferrari 512 S racers – built to conquer Le Mans. Originally packing a 5.0-liter V12 howling with 550 horsepower, it could supposedly hit 60 mph in a neck-snapping 3 seconds and flirt with 220 mph. But here’s the kicker: Geneva saw it arrive engine-less. Delays! Pininfarina rolled out a silent, pitch-black spaceship. And guess what? It stole the entire show. Pure audacity won over horsepower. It scooped up 22 design awards like trophies were going out of style.

The Afterlife: From Show Queen to Living Legend
Post-Geneva, the V12 finally growled to life under its (now iconic) white paint. It lived quietly with Pininfarina for decades… until James Glickenhaus, an American filmmaker and Ferrari fanatic with a penchant for the extraordinary, had to have it. His 5-year restoration wasn’t a polish; it was a resurrection. By 2018, the Modulo breathed fire once more, its glorious V12 symphony echoing across Lake Como at Villa d’Este. (Seriously, find that YouTube clip. Hear it roar. It’s religion.)

Why the Modulo Matters (Beyond the Jaw Drop)
It never saw a production line. But its DNA? It’s everywhere.
→ That radical wedge shape? It haunted Lamborghini’s dreams, birthing the Countach.
→ Its fearless futurism? Paved the way for the Testarossa and Pininfarina’s own Stratos Zero and Maserati Birdcage.
The Modulo wasn’t just ahead of its time. It defined the time that came after. It proved design could be a seismic event. A car could be pure, unapologetic art. And sometimes, the wildest dream on the drawing board deserves to be built.

The Takeaway?
The Ferrari Modulo isn’t just metal, glass, and leather. It’s a time capsule of courage. A reminder that when genius stares down convention and snarls “Move,” magic happens. It’s the ultimate “what if?” made real. And half a century later? It still takes our breath away.
Because true legend never rusts. It just waits for us to catch up.