Photographing the Bugatti Type 57SC Atlantic

There is a certain responsibility that rests on the shoulders of a photographer when asked to capture another artist’s greatest work. It is nothing short of a privilege, paired with an equally great weight of responsibility. When I received the call to photograph Jean Bugatti’s greatest creation, the Bugatti Type 57SC Atlantic, I knew immediately that this would not be like any car photoshoot I had done before.

Considered by many to be one of, if not the most expensive cars on the planet, the Atlantic is a car of legend, lore, and complete beauty. The first of only four ever built, its provenance reads like a book of historically significant figures, each one a titan of their own empire.

What made this photoshoot even more striking was the creative freedom I was given. It was a tremendous amount of trust, and something for which I am deeply grateful. Unlike the very few prior photoshoots of this chassis, I was not asked to create an aesthetically sterile image that simply proved the car had been photographed. Instead, I was allowed to approach the lighting in a more abstract and artistic way.

The creative director behind the series, Peter Allen, and I spoke at length before I ever scouted the location or saw the car in person. We knew color needed to exist, but we wanted to balance it carefully within light and form. If Jean Bugatti created this piece to be striking nearly 100 years ago, our job was to make sure it remained just as striking today.

I headed down to the private collection where the car is kept, and spent the better part of a day simply looking at it, studying its lines, and considering the opportunities that existed to tell the story of a genius car designer way ahead of his time. It would be weeks before I returned with a crew and lights, but the time in between was spent planning diagrams and lighting schematics based on what I had seen in person.

The most obvious and striking element of the Bugatti is its distinguished spine, riveted by hand. It is easy to put light on such a hard angle of bodywork, but far more difficult to make sure that light falls off softly and does not distract from the curves on either side of the ridge. Armed with Profoto B3’s and nearly every modifier they could throw at it, we were able to control the way the shadows feathered from the hard edges. We let the light reveal the shape of the body, but not overwhelm it.

The next challenge was showing the form of the car while acknowledging something that often goes unseen: how small the vehicle actually is. This is partly because the Atlantic has mostly been photographed with long lens compression in studio, without any reference to the world around it. At first, I thought photographing it outside might be the best way to reveal its scale, but I was nervous about taking something so valuable out of the collection where it is kept.

That concern was completely upended when the director of the magazine, David Lillywhite, said the owner had given us the extraordinary privilege of not only moving the car outside, but actually driving it. This was equally exciting and nerve-racking, because if anything were to happen to it on the road, it would most likely become the most expensive car accident in history.

At first, I pushed back. I did not want to take the car outside because of the very real insurance liabilities that exist in the world around it. But, in time, I grew more comfortable with the idea, and it was decided that we would take it for a very calm and well planned out drive to capture it in motion in a way it had rarely, if ever, been seen before.

We knew this photoshoot was special. Even starting the car and getting inside it is a privilege that very few people have ever experienced. Upon wrapping the driving images, I was offered a ride in the Bugatti by the caretaker of the car. Not one to turn down a kind offer, I hopped right in (slowly, as the cabin is somehow even smaller than it looks in the pictures). From my experience, it would have been hard to tell whether I had stepped into a car or a modern time machine. Between the sound of the non-synchro gearbox, the whine of the transmission, and the exhaust just inches below my seat, I could imagine this car in the 1930s, driving along the French Riviera. And I can guarantee you, the occupants would have been smiling just as much as I was.

After three long days working with the Bugatti, we wrapped one final image. What stayed with me most was the gratitude that existed on both sides of the project. To create art from something so historic and beautiful, and to be part of documenting that history, is a privilege I could never claim to deserve, but one for which I will always be grateful.

I hope you enjoy the pieces we created, and I hope you will pick up the latest issue of Magneto magazine to see the full story and the incredible cover art made from the images.