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T he term “supercar” is a fickle one. Ask a dozen automotive experts for a definition, and you’ll get a dozen answers, based on everything from brand to top speed to body style to price. To quote Justice Potter Stewart’s famous line about obscenity, perhaps the best description of a supercar is: I know it when I see it.
One thing most experts will agree on, however, was that the Lamborghini Miura was the world’s first supercar.
Yes, there had been mid-engined cars before the Miura — the layout’s benefits in terms of centralizing a car’s center of gravity had been long apparent — but they were made first and foremost for racing. Never before had there been a two-seat car designed for the streets with its engine mounted between rear axle and passenger compartment. The Miura paved the way not only for the likes of later Lamborghinis like the Countach, Diablo and Aventador, but it also opened the gates to every other mid-engined supercar to be postered on a bedroom wall, from the Acura NSX to the McLaren F1. Its exotic looks and raw power courted attention like none before; even stars like Frank Sinatra and Miles Davis were drawn to it like wide-eyed children.
The Miura’s legend is so grand, even those well-versed in its history struggle to avoid the clichés all too often associated with famous automobiles. “They are iconic cars,” says Michael Squire, Car Specialist and Director of Research at RM Sotheby’s. “I’m going to use another cliché: they are a work of art.”
1969 Lamborghini Miura P400 S by BertoneThe car was conceived in 1965 out of the passion of Lamborghini’s talented young team — specifically, technical director Giampaolo Dallara, his assistant Paolo Stanzani, and test driver Bob Wallace. Lamborghini had only been in the business of building cars for two years at the time, and company founder Ferruccio Lamborghini had no interest in racing; he preferred his machines more relaxed, like the grand touring coupes his company had been building for the last few years.
With Dallara at the helm, the result was, almost literally, a 180-degree change from the previous Lamborghini, the 350GT: where the GT’s V-12 engine was mounted longitudinally ahead of the cabin, the new car’s 12-cylinder was mounted transversely behind it. Still, Ferrucio gave the car his green light, and proposed bringing it to the Turin Salon auto show in unfinished form in hopes of stoking excitement for the brand.
As it so happened, Ferrucio’s hopes were spot-on. The car — known as “P400” in its early development — was still little more than a frame and powertrain when it was first shown in Turin in November 1965. In spite of that, interested parties practically threw money at the skeletal display in hopes of reserving, well, whatever the finished product turned out to be.
As impressive as the engineers’ vision turned out to be, however, the Miura wouldn’t be The Miura if not for the work of the artists at Italy’s famed Bertone design house. It is, mind you, one of a very small number of cars ever honored by New York’s Museum of Modern Art. “To many people, a Miura is one of the greatest designs of all time. It’s one of the most beautiful cars ever made,” says Squire.
The task fell primarily to a 27-year-old designer at Bertone named Marcello Gandini, who would go on to conceive the Countach, the Lancia Stratos and the Bugatti EB 110, among many other vehicles. “Arguably, he’s the greatest car designer of all time,” says Squire. Among his many accolades, Gandini received Car Design Review’s first-ever Lifetime Achievement Award with the praise, “If there was an Olympic event for ‘greatest car designer of all time’Marcello Gandini would surely be on the podium, and his medal wouldn’t be bronze.”
Gandini was forced to operate on a tight schedule, going from initial sketch to finished prototype in just three months. Timing and budget proved the mother of creativity: for example, he appropriated the headlights from a Fiat 850 Spider, but to distinguish them from the lesser car, he wrapped them in a black surrounding with louvered elements top and bottom, giving the Miura its famous “eyelashes.”
In spite of the abbreviated design window — it was created so fast, the company’s engineers didn’t even realize the engine wouldn’t fit in the prototype, forcing them to fill the engine bay with ballast and keep it shut at the design’s debut — it was an absolute sensation when it debuted at the 1966 Geneva Motor Show.
Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but performance is objective — and there was no denying the speed that the Miura packed into its frame when it burst onto the streets in 1967. “They were really fast when they came out,” says Squire. “They were one of the fastest cars in the world.” The mighty 3.9-liter V-12 engine designed by former Ferrari engineer Bizzarrini and wedged between driver and rear axle made 345 horsepower in the first Miuras, enough to push it on to a top speed of 171 miles per hour — which made it the fastest street car in the world when it launched. That basic engine would, in fact, evolve and adapt with Lamborghini, with variants going on to be used in the Countach, Diablo and Murcielago.
Not surprisingly, the Miura’s pioneering status has made it beloved among collectors. For all its fame, fewer than 800 examples were built over the car’s seven-year production run. The rarest of them, the Miura Jota, is sadly no longer in existence.
“The Miura Jota was a competition-derived Miura that Bob Wallace developed, as a sort of design study,” says Squire. Wallace’s idea was to see if it were possible to build a Miura to comply with the Appendix J racing regulations set by the FIA — hence the name “Jota,” for the way you pronounce the letter “J” in Spanish. Nearly every component was adapted for a faster car, from the chassis to the suspension to the interior; practically the only piece that went unchanged was the engine block, but other powerplant changes pushed output to 440 horsepower. After Wallace and his crew tested it for 12,000 miles or so, Lamborghini sold it — only to see the car literally crash and burn on a closed highway in April 1971.
According to Squire, the closest thing we have to that today is the Miura SVJ. Only six Miura SVJs were ever built— details are murky, however; a 2015 RM Sotheby’s auction listing claimed between five and seven were made — and each one was unique. Notably, one of them was made for the Shah of Iran; it was seized by the new government after the Iranian revolution, from which it eventually made its way to Dubai, then to actor Nicolas Cage in 1997, selling at auction for $490,000. While their interiors retained the creature comforts of a regular Miura, the SVJs boasted bodywork, powertrain changes and braking and handling upgrades based on those of the Jota.
Below that, there were the three “mainstream” Miuras: in order of appearance and reverse order of collectability, they were the P400, the S, and the SV. The latter, Squire says, are sort of seen as the “pinnacle” of the model. “They were the best developed of all of them,” he says, in no small part by virtue of their arrival towards the end of the car’s life cycle. The SV variants were quicker than their predecessors— the V-12 was dialed up to 375 horses, thanks to updated carburetors revised cam timing — and had a better-developed suspension for improved handling, while an optional limited-slip differential aided in both turning and accelerating. Stylistically, they can be easily differentiated from the S and P400 versions by the lack of the eyelash-like design elements around the headlights.
A Miura SV previously owned by Jamiroquai singer Jay Kay sold for a world record $4.9 million during the RM Sotheby’s Dare to Dream auction in the spring of 2024. Looking back a little farther down the calendar, the very first of just 21 Miura SVs ever made for the U.S. market sold for €2,480,000 ($2.75 million in today’s USD) in a 2022 RM Sotheby’s auction in Monaco.
The Miura S models take the middle tier of the collectability ladder — a reasonable spot for them, as they were the second version of the car to reach the streets. Also known as the P400S, these cars benefited from engine tweaks that boosted power from the original 345 ponies to 365, while the rear suspension was adjusted to reduce squat when accelerating. There was also a bit more space for luggage in the trunk, chrome detailing around the windows and headlamps, and a refreshed interior with more leather trim and an updated center console. The S was also the first Miura to offer power windows and optional air conditioning — something to keep in mind if you plan on buying and driving a Miura today.
One claim to fame of the car: a Miura S happens to be responsible for the revving sound in the bridge of Van Halen’s 1984 hit “Panama.” The car was guitarist Eddie Van Halen’s own, and the rock icon even worked the gas pedal on the V-12 himself for the track.
A Miura S at RM Sotheby’s’ Monterey auction in August 2024 sold for $1,897,000, although it stood out for a handful of SV upgrades and a Bob Wallace engine rebuild. Three years prior to that in Monterey, a low-mileage barn-find Miura S went for a lofty $2,095,000; roll back the clock even earlier to October 2020, and a restored and well-maintained example went for $1,160,000 as part of The Elkhart Collection auction.
Then, at the bottom of the model ladder, there’s the P400 — the first variant ever to roll out back in 1967. Those initial Miuras used a chassis made with thinner metal, making them lighter. “They’re much more delicate than the later SVs,” says Squire. As the inaugural model, it comes up behind its successors in terms of refinement and raw power alike. And the first Miura was also the version with the highest production count; roughly three times as many P400s were made as either of the latter two mainstream models.
Still, the P400 has its appeal: “A really nice early P400 is still a very lovely thing, because it’s true to the original design of the Miura,” says Squire. The most recent Miura P400 to cross the block at RM Sotheby’s sold for €1,608,125 (about $1.75 million USD at current rates) at the Villa Erba 2023 auction; before that, at RM’s 2022 Monterey auction, one squeaked across the line in the six figures, going for $995,000.
The value of any Miura alive these days also greatly depends on its condition. Unlike some iconic cars, not every example out there is in prime state. “Miuras vary massively in quality,” says Squire. “Many have had a tough life, but others have been well-kept, but there doesn’t seem to be much in-between the two.”
Still, should you be lucky enough to find one you want to bring home, you’re ultimately in for a treat. “There’s no such thing as a bad Miura,” Squire says. While they’re not easy to drive by the standards of modern push-button supercars, he says, it’s a rewarding experience — one he looks back on fondly from his own miles behind the wheel of a Miura SV. “Quite a lot of Miuras aren’t really bought as driver’s cars — they’re bought for their form rather than their function. Which isn’t right. But I think the general trend for Miuras is always going to be a positive one. That appeal is pretty everlasting.”
And even if you only park it in your garage and go out to ogle it, there’s a strong chance it’ll hold its value into the future. After all, the era of pure V-12 engines is fading fast; even Lamborghini no longer builds them without hybrid assistance.
