Words: Kris Clewell / Photos: Nevin Pontious
Downtown Los Angeles became a temple to Italian motoring last weekend as Macchinissima III filled the Arts District at Rolling Greens. More than 150 Italian cars and motorcycles showed up, from hand-built classics to modern halo machines.
The Red Room pulled people in. A collection of scarlet Ferraris, Alfas, and Lancias lined up together, a reminder of how deeply the color red runs through Italian performance. It was simple exposition, the cars laid out in a cavernous warehouse space, but a powerful one. In the middle hung giant chrome balls that caught the light and threw reflections across the cars, adding a surrealism element to the display
Among the rarities sat a De Tomaso Vallelunga, a car most will never see outside of dusty oversized coffee table books. De Tomaso built fewer than 60 of them in the 1960s, a mid-engine coupe that marked the company’s first steps into road cars. Its presence here showed the depth of curation, not just the expected.
The headline, though, was Alfa Romeo’s 33 Stradale. The original Tipo 33 Stradale, built between 1967 and 1969, is often called one of the most beautiful cars ever made. Hand-shaped aluminum bodywork, butterfly doors, and a race-derived V8 made it both sculpture and weapon.
The new 33 Stradale carries the name forward with a twin-turbo V6 or an electric drivetrain. While it has the numbers, more than 620 horsepower from the V6 or even more from the EV version, it has lost something at the core. The original sang with a naturally aspirated V8 that felt alive in a way the new one does not. At heart, the modern car feels like it has traded intent for performance. Yet visually, it is stunning. Low, sharp, and unmistakably Italian, it looks every bit a Stradale, even if the soul is quieter. It's a throwback you only get to do once. Only a bit of time will tell if the design holds.
What makes Macchinissima matter is that it wrapped these legends into a setting that felt open and alive. Ferraris and Fiats, collectors and builders, all sharing space. The Red Room honored tradition. The Vallelunga and the Stradales carried history. But the heartbeat was grassroots. This was not culture handed down by institutions or judged on manicured lawns. It was being built in the moment, by a segment of owners who drove their cars into the city, by young builders putting their own stamp on Italian metal, by people who care just as much about sharing as preserving. It's part of a grassroots motoring and classic car resurgence happening around the United States today. You could feel that something was being created, not curated.
