Miura George Tyebcho

There’s a difficult to define relationship between men and cars. It undoubtedly exists, but why? What is the pull, as elemental as gravity, that draws men to the motor vehicle? Sure, cars are hardly the exclusive province of men, but they have nonetheless become synonymous with maledom since the world’s first motorcar growled into existence in 1885. ‘Miura’ by Tbilisi-based Georgian cinematographer George Tyebcho directly appeals to that mysterious and magnetic attraction. Digitally created, this piece is essentially a sultry scene of engineering designed to entice; a darkened room, the sheer curtain partially covering the measured curves of the vintage Lamborghini’s form, and the warm yellow light beckons from the obscured interior. We can almost hear the low throaty rumble of the engine revving and the cracking snarl at the merest touch of its accelerator.

Cars represent a mechanical right of passage. They are symbols, both metaphoric and literal, of autonomy and freedom. The ability to drive empowers us and gives us agency, and acquiring one can give us a level of prestige. Yet, some automobiles are different. They’re deified into a pantheon of classics. They become benchmarks of design and are considered engineering marvels par excellence. The Lamborghini Miura has certainly achieved this exalted status.