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May 28th, 2004
2006 Miata/ MX-5 to turn heads, if not
rotors
Will do without a Wankel, but expect a major minimalist
rethink benefiting from not only Mazda's traditional enlightenment, but also its
Japanese roots
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The 1989 Miata, internally
dubbed P729, reinforced Colin Chapman's old edict that weight was the
enemy of not only fuel economy but, also, of performance. Mk1 Miata lasted
for an incredible eight years.
Mk1 still looks fresh, and makes a mockery out of some of the more
blatantly retro vehicles that hit the road near the Millennium. This,
Ladies and Gentlemen, is the way to do it: inspired, rather than insipidly
and slavishly copied.
Although refined by Mazda's Shunji Tanaka, Mk1 was an American proposal
from Mazda NA (MANA), who were also instrumental in lobbying for its
rear-wheel-drive, front-engined layout over a front-wheel-drive or
mid-engined variant |
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Recently hired as CEO of
Maserati, and formerly of Ford of Europe, Martin Leach was at Mazda in the
spring of 1994, when he instigated the
development of the '98 Mk2. Mk1 Chief engineer Takao
Kijima took the position of Toshihiko Hirai as Mk2 Miata program manager.
Retaining the original Miata's ideology of light and balanced weight, the
pop-up headlamps were ditched for being too heavy. This created a stir
among North American Miata enthusiasts, in particular, but once again it
was in fact an American proposal - by ex-Chrysler man Ken Saward at
Mazda's Irvine studio - that was accepted over the Japanese design |
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'01 Mk2.5, the current
Miata, was a Japanese
refreshing designed to bring the car into line with Mazda's new five-point
grille family 'face.' |

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Translated, Ibuki
means "breathing new life into."
Miata itself is an old German word which means reward, or deserved
praise, writes James Taylor in Mazda MX-5 and Miata: 1989-1999
(Motor Racing Publications Ltd., 1999).
Shown at Tokyo 2003, Moray
Callum's Mazda Ibuki Concept previews the next-generation, 2006 Miata/
MX-5. Unlike its two-and-a-half predecessors, it will most likely strive
for a truly Japanese look |
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As Mazda grows more
confident, and inspired to chase its Japanese roots, we're betting on
Callum's Ibuki Concept to prevail over a more evolutionary approach (as exhibited above in an undated Road & Track
rendition) |
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Width
and wheelbase of the Ibuki are longer than the current Miata's, but -
thanks to dramatically short overhangs - is actually smaller overall |
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Basic
shape of the tail-lamps are unmistakably Miata, but here functionality is
emphasized over form |
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Adhering to Bob Hall's self-dubbed KISS (Keep it Simple... etc.) strategy
with the original Miata, the Ibuki Concept is indeed a minimalist
creation.
Unlike the original, however, it seems more comfortable in reveling in its
minimalism - as evidenced by the deliberate console which recalls the
cost-cut interior or the Mk1 Miata... |
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...
yet turns it into a style which flows across the top of the car |
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Ibuki heralds a return to
the minimalism that brought enthusiasts banging on Mazda's doors when the
Miata first appeared in 1989.
Miata's forte was playing to the more from
less ideology that inspired the Sport Compact movement.
Callum's car is one which has matured without growing old, in that it
treats the Miata as a true icon in its own right rather than simply - as
in 1989 - a reference to the glorious past of others |
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Mazda
is well on its way to recovery now, and is willing and able to translate
into steel Moray Callum's ideas for exploring its Japanese heritage.
Although the RX-8, and the Ibuki Concept's use of a hybrid engine and
RX-8-sourced double-wishbone front and rear suspension, might have led us
to expect more a imaginative powertrain, the next Miata will be a visual
blueprint for mainstream Mazda-ness through the next decade.
Wipe a tear from the eye, then, and look at it with the same clarity which
it projects. Many a brand would give up its entire marketing department to
be able to justifiably pull off the individual, intelligent simplicity of
the Ibuki Concept |
Well, we are a little disappointed.
Even after the exquisite
Mazda RX-8
(see article:
'More power to Mazda'),
whose return of the rotary to our shores helped make it our Sports Car of the
Year, 2003, the next Miata/
MX-5 will not be using its powerplant.
Refreshing an automotive icon
demands an iconic, respectful approach, and
Mazda's RX-8 had signaled a
revival of one of the greatest examples of true DNA ever seen in this industry.
Mazda and the rotary are, by now, virtually inextricable.
On the other hand, Mazda's little
Ibuki Concept, the star of
Tokyo 2003 and
a fair guide to what the next
Miata
will look like, is such a superb stylistic effort that we are willing to put its
lack of a rotary down to a misguided oversight.
Fourteen years after the first
guide to the
Miata - the
MX-04 Concept
- was unveiled in Tokyo, we're talking about new
Miatas
again. And why not? Over 700,000 copies
have been sold worldwide. In 2001, it overtook the 1962-1980
MGB
as the most popular roadster ever built. For its manufacturer, this car is alone in Mazda's current range in
having, unperturbed, carried the Mazda flag through some very difficult years.
The
Miata
reinforced Lotus founder Colin Chapman's old edict that weight was the enemy of not only fuel
economy but, also, of performance. During Mazda's darkest days, the little
roadster kept alive the flame of the company's reputation for sporting
machinery.
Mind you, it has been a rough and
relatively short road. So bright - and seemingly out of place - was the
Miata's
star at times that Mazda wound up complaining that it was not getting sufficient
credit for the product and began adding Mazda to its cars' names (starting with the Mazda6).
So as Mazda feverishly works on a car whose cues will set its DNA for years to
come, we ponder a few points they are no doubt contemplating at Toyo Kogyo in
Hiroshima, and
at Mazda North America (MANA) of Irvine, California:
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Mazda's 'halo:' sport;
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Mazda's 'halo:' the rotary;
(link)
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Miata's promise: pragmatic
performance,
(link)
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and how Moray Callum's
Ibuki Concept
fits-in (link)
With Mazda's own attempt at luxury,
Amati, being a failed memory (and with its flagship
Millenia
cancelled - see article:
'Millenia bows out of the Millennium'),
sport is Mazda's 'halo.'
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Sport, then, is Mazda's
enthusiastic answer to the similarly involved glow that Lexus' luxury and
Infiniti's renewed irreverence cast over Toyota and Nissan respectively.
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Sport is how the Mazda brand
extends itself to show what it can do.
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Sport is the ideology used to
extend Mazda's individual models as their base prices increase across their
individual ranges.
Interestingly, it has not ever been
thus.
"Mazda's involvement with the manufacture of sporting machinery,"
notes author James Taylor,
"dates back no further than the 1960s, and indeed
its real credibility in the sports car world dates back only to the late 1970s"
(Mazda MX-5 and Miata: 1989-1999,
Motor Racing Publications Ltd., 1999).
Rarely has an icon been created in
the short period in which the
Miata has been with us (since 1989), and by a
company which has been making cars since just 1960. Indeed, the most amazing part of the
Miata
story is its rapid flourishing as a true icon of the industry, a worthy
(if not directly related) descendant of the philosophies of giants such as the
Triumph GT6
and TR6,
the Lotus Elan,
the Alfa Romeo Duetto,
and various Austin-Healeys and MGs.
If
Miata's looks paid tribute to the
Lotus Elan,
that was certainly no accident. Even more incredibly, the
Miata
inspired a series of competitors who appeared to have suddenly rediscovered the
segment.
Yet when it first appeared, it was
in its own league.
Sport implies a touch of rebellion that is perhaps more inherent to Western
culture.
"A lot of people said they wanted freedom (out of a
convertible),"
author Liz Turner quotes Shinzo 'Steve' Kubo, right-hand-man to
Miata
project chief Toshihiko Hirai, as noting.
"In Japan, the word always has a
political meaning. So we were wondering how exactly this car would improve human
rights.
"Eventually I understood. It means freedom from daily life, duty, schedules,
freedom at the weekend after a week at work"
(You & Your Mazda MX-5/ Miata, Haynes, 2002).
The Americans involved in the Miata
project were happy to lend a hand to an already enlightened company. Bob Hall, a journalist and often
referred to as the biological father of the
Miata,
was brought into Mazda without formal qualifications but with a strong sense of
what did and did not work in the industry.
A little, perhaps, like that
better-known Bob who has deservedly come to be revered.
"I thought I'd be in PR,"
Hall tells Turner,
"but no, when I arrived I found myself in product development"
(You & Your Mazda MX-5/ Miata, Haynes, 2002).
Determined to keep cost and weight
down, Mazda reserved the bulk of Mk1 Miata
development work for the basic structure. Mazda understood the same principle
that has made BMW such a dynamic force: an independent wishbone suspension only
works if the structure to which it is attached is a stiff one.
Yet the
Miata's stiffness was
achieved inherently, without adding excessive weight. Even the battery was lightweight
and, as with BMW, mounted in the trunk in pursuit of 50/50 weight distribution.
Similarly, the engine was placed as far back as possible.
The
Miata/ MX-5
solidified the connection between Mazda and enthusiasm, even if - at the time -
Mazda's other vehicles tended to be relatively dull. In 1990, the restyled
323
lost its turbocharger; in 1992, we quietly lost the little
MX-3,
without replacement, and by 1996, the
RX-7
- as associated with waiting lists and feverish offers over of thousands over
MSRP as the Miata
had been - was gone.
So pert and telegraphic was the
Miata
that no one really thought of it as part of the brand's then-rather-mundane fold
(RX-7
excepted). Mazda tried to rectify that in 2001 with its Zoom, Zoom
campaign, claiming that its entire range had
"the soul of a sports car."
Yet the
Miata's
payoff has taken longer still.. As the company has picked
itself up, its '03 Mazda6,
last-generation Protégé
(particularly in Mazdaspeed
clothes), and current Mazda3
all exhibit a certain joie de vivre that has often been lacking in
Japanese cars.
(return to top)
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Mazda's 'halo:' the rotary |
How reasonable might it have been for
ourselves - and for several enthusiasts we have talked to - to expect a rotary in
the upcoming third-generation Miata?
To answer this question, we submit that going back to the very beginnings of
Mazda is in order.
Mazda has been building cars for
barely forty-four years, under a name derived both from its founder, Jujiro
Matsuda, and from the Zoroastrian god of light, Ahura Mazda. Although the
company actually dates back to 1920, when it made corks, then tools, and finally
three-wheeled trucks, World War II prevented its 1940 prototype sedan from
seeing the light of day, and necessity dictated that truck production continued
in postwar Japan. In 1960, the
R-360
two-seater finally emerged as Mazda's first production car. The rotary
connection that would ensue a year later seemed more than natural for a company
which had been building cars whose rear-engined, air-cooled layouts resembled
period NSUs.
NSU was the unequivocal rotary
pioneer of the time, and licensed its technology to Mazda for use. Despite a
brief flirtation with water-cooled, piston-engined vehicles, including the
Bertone-designed
1500 Luce,
Mazda in its early days is perhaps best remembered for the rotary
1967 Cosmo 110S.
1,176 examples were built through 1972. By the time NSU
was usurped by Volkswagen, thanks to teething problems with the otherwise
brilliant Ro80
sedan, Mazda had been emboldened to produce what would become the only
newly-developed, rotary-engined vehicles of its time.
There was a period in the '70s when
Mazda threw the rotary into everything it gave us here in the U.S.
R100, RX-2,
RX-3,
and
RX-4
all date back to this point in time. More than half of the Mazdas
sold in the U.S. in 1971 had rotary engines. Motor Trend called these
"the biggest innovation in power plants since the turbine,"
and the
Wall Street Journal noted that
"the Wankel has 40% fewer parts and
weighs one third to one half less than today's engines."
After the 1973 gas crisis, however,
Mazda slowly began shying away from the rotary and its conspicuous consumption.
In 1976, its newest four-cylinder piston-engined car was even named the
Mazda Mizer
to emphasize this shift in strategy.
Finally, in
1978, the RX-7 (Savanna,
in Japan) heralded a new era when the rotary powerplant would be used only
for 'halo' Mazda models. In 1979, Ford confirmed, buying 25% of Mazda out of a
strategic desire to, eventually, completely own a Japanese company and without
much concern for what had been the Japanese manufacturer's raison d'être. Despite an Import Car of the Year award for its
626
from Motor Trend in 1983, the company was unmistakably becoming
increasingly mainstream in its designs and technology. Joint efforts such as the
Ford Probe/ Mazda MX-6,
and Ford Festiva/
Mazda 121 (essentially a
Kia Pride)
were relatively colorless compared to Mazda's earlier efforts.
When the
RX-7
departed our shores after the 1995 model year, Mazda's U.S. lineup was left
without the rotary engine that had distinguished its first Stateside efforts.
Stories began emerging of RX-7
owners who were turned away by Mazda dealerships who were desperate to get away
from the complexity of servicing the rotary.
Its Amati luxury division
efforts having failed, the company soldiered on with increasingly less to
differentiate itself. May 1996 saw Ford seize the
moment, taking a 33.4% controlling stake in the company for the bargain price of
$500 million.
"In March 1997,"
writes James
Taylor,
"the two manufacturers agreed on a synchronized product cycle which
would see the progressive commonization of platforms and powertrains"
(Mazda MX-5 and Miata, Motor Racing Publications, Ltd., 1999).
During these darker years, only the
Miata
lent Mazda's rather humdrum range any distinctiveness. The Miller-cycle engine
in the flagship Millenia
never quite encouraged buyers to take the plunge, and memories of rotors clouded
Mazda's attempts at recovery like an albatross.
In 2003, three important things
happened. First, the Mazda6
demonstrated that the company could yet again emphasize performance. Secondly,
Mazdaspeed lent a hand to the little Protégé, giving the chassis the power
it had cried out for and the halo that the Mazda range so desperately needed.
Perhaps most critically, however,
the rotary made a comeback. The superlative
RX-8 rekindled what
Automobile, April 2003, described as
"incredibly powerful imagery
(which) defines Mazda in a world where brand identity is hard to come by."
Mazda and the rotary are
inextricable; more importantly, Mazda's success of the type
that the
Miata has achieved has generally been dependent on the company's unique
desire to improve upon the workings of Felix Wankel.
If we expected a revitalized Mazda
to find the wherewithal to return to the technology that made it famous, this
was hardly irrational. However, this ignores the
Miata's
core value of pragmatism, which leads us to the next section.
(return to top)
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Mazda's 'halo:' pragmatic performance |
Starting at £3,000 less than the
contemporary Lotus Elan,
and delivering a more precise driving experience, the
Miata
was a revelation. Here was a simple, four-cylinder car driving its rear wheels
through a manual transmission and sitting almost flat on its old-fashioned
all-around wishbone suspension - and yet there was nothing like it on the
market.
The recipe was pure magic, and music
to the ears of enthusiasts who felt abandoned (particularly in the U.S, where
several European manufacturers had, by the late '80s, departed and taken their
X1/9s
and Spyders
with them). "If this cute, simple, and brilliant
roadster had not proved that there is a demand for a small, affordable sports
car - and that there is a profit to be made from making one - there would
probably be no MGF, BMW Z3, Fiat Barchetta,
or even Audi TT,"
writes Liz Turner
(You & Your Mazda MX-5/ Miata, Haynes, 2002).
Surprisingly, considering the
Miata's
success, Bob Hall - as much the father of the
Miata
as Iacocca was of the '64 Stang
- tells Turner that,
"this was
not a well-liked project - there were those in the company who thought it was an
utter waste of money. In fact, we had to avoid some people deliberately."
Indeed, a two-person sports car was
a little too hedonistic for the Japanese at the time. Mazda's accountants, in
particular, were very much against the MANA (Mazda North America) front-engined, rear-wheel-drive
proposal. Why could such an obviously niche car not be built as a
front-wheel-drive vehicle on an existing platform, they wondered?
Yet there is every evidence that the
core Japanese philosophy of pragmatism was ultimately responsible for a large
chunk of the Miata's
success. Not only were the
Miata's
components and price tag pragmatically approachable, but so too was its
performance itself. Turner describes how Mazda engineers totaled three
Porsche 944s
while examining on-the-limit handling, determined to build a car whose potential
was accessible.
Technically, a minor but
surprisingly key factor was project manager Toshihiko Hirai's insistence that a powerplant frame (PPF) ran along the right-hand
side of the propshaft, connecting the engine and gearbox to the rear axle in an
effort to keep the driver appraised of what was going on. Moreover, this
prevented the vertical drivetrain flexibility that causes axle tramp.
The key philosophy in the
influential Sport Compact market, as we noted in
The Few Remaining Secrets of the Sport Compact Crowd
(ISBN #1-4116-0500-4),
is more from less. Indeed, Wheels' Mike McCarthy wrote of the
Miata
in July, 1992,
"(it) is an embodiment of the
less-is-more philosophy. Its performance is moderate but honest, its styling
simple yet significant, its dynamics understated but excellent."
If the basic interior was the
weakest part of the car, well, it certainly lent itself to the personalization
Sport Compacters are wont to engage in. Indeed, Tom Matano proposes exactly that
theory to Turner.
In summary, the
Miata
won by delivering a true, rear-wheel-drive sports car for sensible money and in
compliance with draconian U.S. safety regulations that had killed-off so many of
its ilk, years and decades before
Miata's
introduction in 1989.
(return to top)
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How
Moray Callum's Ibuki Concept fits-in |
As wonderful as the original
Miata
was, it was Japanese primarily in its functional ideology; that the function inspired enthusiasm was
just a sad reminder of how low (in relative terms) the rest of Mazda's range - and affordable sports
cars in general - had fallen.
Over a year ago, we wrote about one minimalist design - the
Acura TSX - noting that we were
"no big
fans of Japanese design"
but also that the
TSX was not the average Japanese,
blandly shaped blob, either
(see article:
'2003 Acura TSX (Euro Accord) advances Honda design').
Now, Callum's
Ibuki heralds a return to the
minimalism that brought enthusiasts banging on Mazda's doors when the
Miata
first appeared in 1989. Remember the more from less ideology?
Callum's car is
one which has matured without growing old, in that it treats the
Miata
as a true icon in its own right rather than simply - as in 1989 - a reference to
the glorious past of others. There for all to experience is a
visual emphasis of Miata's
simplicity, but made glamorous.
At the end of the day, the
Miata
will remain very much its own car, despite using the
RX-8
platform. Joe Bakaj notes that Mazda has
"strategically invested lots of
money in the
RX-8,
so it makes sense to reuse that investment"
('Additional Mazda nameplates on horizon for U.S. market,' Automotive News,
October 27th, 2003).
"We'd want a different wheelbase
and track, but we can reuse the architecture."
Perhaps more importantly than
platform logistics or powerplants, the next
Miata appears to have a good
chance of adhering to the principles that made the original so successful.
The original was designed by
Tom Matano (whose previous experience had included BMW and GM-Holden) and Mark
Jordan (the son of period Vice President of GM Design Chuck Jordan and an Opel
designer before moving East to work on the
Miata
project). New
Miata
is the work of Moray Callum, the brother
of Ian Callum (who penned the exquisite
Aston Martin DB7,
one of our favorite production designs ever, before recently moving to Jaguar).
Callum replaced Matano at Mazda in September 2001, when the latter headed for a
teaching position at the Academy of Art College in San Francisco.
The original was about light, and
well-managed, weight. Today, Ibuki
claims to reduce yaw moment by 15% over the current
Miata,
thanks to packaging that allows the engine to be placed still further back and
lower within the car.
The original was affordable - and
therein lies the rub. Bakaj has told CAR that there is absolutely no possibility of a rotary
in the next-generation.
"We want to keep
this car affordable," he stressed,
"and we are definitely not going to
move it any closer to
Z4
or
Boxster
territory"
(CAR, March 2004).
Those who want a rotary roadster may
well be served, even if not by the Miata.
Bakaj has confirmed to Automotive News that Mazda was looking at two-seat
coupé and roadster versions of the RX-8.
In conclusion, Mazda is well on its way to
recovery now, and is willing and able to translate into steel Moray Callum's ideas
for exploring its Japanese heritage.
"So much to like about such a
small, simple car,"
writes CAR's Georg Kacher of the
Ibuki.
We agree; although the sheer existence of the
RX-8,
and the
Ibuki Concept's use of a hybrid engine and
RX-8-sourced
platform bits, might have led us to expect more a
imaginative powertrain, the next
Miata will be a visual blueprint for mainstream
Mazda-ness through the next decade.
Wipe a tear from the eye, then, and
look at
Ibuki with the same clarity which it projects. Many a brand would give up
its entire marketing department to be able to justifiably pull off the
individual, intelligent simplicity of the
Ibuki Concept.
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