If you’ve ever looked at a marina and thought, this place could use more Weissach energy, Porsche agrees. When boot Düsseldorf 2026 opens on January 17, the German sports-car maker will once again blur the line between asphalt and open water—this time with an all-new electric boat and a pair of battery-powered SUVs that make a compelling case for performance without pistons.
The headline act is the Frauscher x Porsche 790 Spectre, a clean-sheet electric sports boat developed around the high-voltage architecture of the fully electric Porsche Macan. This isn’t a branding exercise with a crest slapped on the side. The 790 Spectre is engineered from the keel up to integrate Porsche’s EV know-how, marking the next phase of Porsche and Austrian boatbuilder Frauscher’s increasingly serious collaboration.
To underline just how literal that relationship is, Porsche will park a specially customized Macan Turbo Electric next to the boat. The SUV mirrors the watercraft’s exterior finishes and interior details, courtesy of Porsche Exclusive Manufaktur. It’s a rolling mood board—proof that Porsche’s bespoke division is more than happy to match your driveway to your dock.
But the Macan isn’t the only EV doing the heavy lifting. Making its German debut at the show is the new Cayenne Electric, fresh off its world premiere in November 2025. Porsche’s second fully electric SUV promises the brand’s familiar performance edge wrapped in genuine everyday usability. The spec that matters here? A towing capacity of up to 3.5 tonnes, which makes the Cayenne Electric a surprisingly logical partner for a sizable sports boat. Yes, an electric Porsche that can tow your weekend toy to the water—without a drop of fuel involved.
Porsche’s presence at boot Düsseldorf isn’t just symbolic. The company returns as the show’s official mobility partner, running a shuttle service throughout the event. Think of it as a rolling reminder that Porsche’s EV strategy isn’t confined to racetracks or charging curves—it’s about integrating performance into every corner of an enthusiast’s lifestyle, whether that corner happens to float.
At Düsseldorf, Porsche isn’t just selling cars or boats. It’s selling the idea that the electric future can be fast, functional, and—importantly—fun, no matter which direction the horizon happens to be.
If there’s a right way to celebrate a centennial, Maserati seems determined to find it—preferably under bright lights, surrounded by carbon fiber, bespoke paint, and the low hum of electrification. At the 2026 Brussels Motor Show, running January 9–18, the House of the Trident isn’t just exhibiting cars; it’s opening the Year of the Trident with a full-throated reminder of why the badge still matters.
This year marks 100 years since the Trident first appeared—borrowed from Bologna’s Neptune Fountain and now inseparable from Maserati’s identity—and also a century since the brand’s first racing appearance at the Targa Florio, where the Tipo 26 promptly won its class. History, in other words, is doing some heavy lifting here. But Maserati isn’t content to let nostalgia carry the stand. Instead, Brussels becomes a case study in how the brand wants to balance heritage, performance, and a very modern push toward electrification.
The Maserati stand in Hall 11—put together by longtime partner D’Ieteren—has been one of the show’s busiest, and not just because of the badge. Four production models anchor the display: the MCPURA Cielo, GranCabrio Folgore, Grecale Folgore, and the Grecale Lumina Blu Special Edition. Together, they outline Maserati’s current playbook: keep the engines emotional, the interiors indulgent, and the future unmistakably electric.
The real theater, though, happened after hours. On Saturday, January 10, Maserati hosted an exclusive VIP evening that leaned hard into Italian drama, unveiling cars with more symbolism than subtlety. Chief among them were the one-off GranTurismo and GranCabrio Meccanica Lirica—rolling tributes to Modena, opera, and the return of GranTurismo production to the brand’s historic home.
“Meccanica Lirica” isn’t just a poetic name slapped on a special paint job. These cars were created at Officine Fuoriserie Maserati, the brand’s bespoke atelier, and they lean into sensory storytelling. The GranTurismo wears Rosso Velluto, a deep red inspired by opera house curtains, while the GranCabrio glows in Oro Lirico, meant to evoke the warmth of stage lighting under an open sky. It’s theatrical, yes—but deliberately so, and very Maserati.
Sharing the spotlight was the GT2 Stradale, the road-legal evolution of Maserati’s GT2 race car. Less metaphor, more muscle. With track-derived engineering and a clear focus on performance, it serves as a reminder that while Maserati is leaning into luxury and electrification, it hasn’t forgotten how to go fast—or why that matters to its identity.
Back on the show floor, the MCPURA Cielo arguably tells the most complete story of modern Maserati. The open-top supercar gets refreshed styling, higher-grade materials, and an interior that feels more bespoke than before. Power still comes from the Nettuno V6, complete with its Formula 1–derived pre-chamber combustion tech—a reassuring nod to the brand’s racing DNA in an increasingly electric lineup. The Brussels car is finished in Aqua Rainbow from the Fuoriserie palette, a color that looks different depending on how the light hits it—and probably exactly how Maserati intended.
Electrification, of course, is impossible to miss. The GranCabrio Folgore pairs classic Maserati proportions with a fully electric drivetrain, offering open-air driving for four and a claimed top speed of 290 km/h—making it the fastest electric convertible currently on the market. If nothing else, it proves that going electric doesn’t mean going quiet in character.
The Grecale Folgore takes a more practical route, positioning itself as a premium electric SUV with up to 580 km of WLTP range. Finished in Verde Royale with Ghiaccio interiors, it also features an AWD-Disconnect system designed to extend range when all-wheel drive isn’t needed. It’s the sensible Maserati—if such a thing exists.
Then there’s the European debut of the Grecale Lumina Blu Special Edition, which leans into visual drama rather than drivetrain headlines. Night Interaction exterior elements contrast with 21-inch Pegaso wheels, yellow brake calipers, and a yellow Trident on the C-pillar. Inside, Chocolate leather and open-pore briarwood inserts complete a cabin that feels more tailored lounge than SUV interior.
All of it adds up to a brand very aware of its moment. As Maserati COO Santo Ficili put it, the enthusiasm in Brussels reflects “a vision that unites heritage, innovation, and artisanal excellence.” Translation: Maserati believes it can honor its past without being trapped by it—and still compete in a high-performance luxury world that’s changing fast.
If the crowds in Brussels are any indication, the Trident’s second century is off to a confident, carefully choreographed start.
For a brief moment, it looked like the European Union and China might be done trading punches over electric cars. This week, both sides announced they’ve agreed on steps to defuse their simmering dispute over Chinese EV imports—steps that sound cooperative on paper but leave plenty of sharp edges in practice.
The headline is this: instead of simply slugging Chinese-made electric vehicles with tariffs as high as 35.3 percent, the EU is preparing guidelines for minimum import prices. In theory, those price floors are meant to neutralize the effect of Chinese government subsidies without slamming the door entirely on affordable EVs. In reality, it’s a complex compromise that raises as many questions as it answers—starting with whether those tariffs actually go away.
So far, no one’s saying.
China’s Ministry of Commerce framed the agreement in grand terms, calling it a win for “the healthy development of China-Europe economic and trade relations” and for the rules-based global trade order. That’s diplomatic code for please stop escalating this. From Brussels, the message is more procedural: manufacturers can submit price undertakings, the European Commission will review them “objectively and fairly,” and everything will—supposedly—align with World Trade Organization rules.
If that sounds bureaucratic, it’s because it is. The EU’s own guidance acknowledges that today’s EV market is wildly diverse, meaning a one-size-fits-all minimum price won’t work. Instead, model-specific thresholds would be set at levels “adequate to eliminate the harmful effects of subsidies.” Translation: cheap Chinese EVs can still come in, but not too cheap.
This entire standoff exists because Chinese automakers have gotten very good—very fast—at building electric cars that undercut European rivals on price. Brussels argues that this advantage isn’t purely about efficiency or scale, but about state support. The list of alleged incentives is long and familiar: low-interest loans from state banks, discounted land for factories, tax breaks, subsidized materials, and guaranteed demand via state fleet purchases. Stack all that together, and you get EVs that arrive in Europe with price tags legacy automakers can’t easily match.
The U.S. response to the same phenomenon was blunt-force: a 100 percent tariff that effectively walls off the American market from Chinese EVs. Europe can’t afford to be that absolutist. The EU has legally binding climate targets—cutting greenhouse-gas emissions by 55 percent by 2030—and hitting those numbers requires lots of electric cars, including affordable ones. Blocking Chinese imports entirely would make that transition slower, pricier, and politically messier.
And here’s the twist that often gets lost in the rhetoric: a significant chunk of “Chinese” EV imports into Europe aren’t from Chinese brands at all. The value of battery-electric cars imported into Europe jumped from $1.6 billion in 2020 to $11.5 billion in 2023, and much of that volume comes from Western automakers building cars in China. Tesla and BMW both ship China-built EVs to Europe, which means trade barriers can boomerang back onto Europe’s own champions.
Despite the tariffs already in place, Chinese brands keep gaining ground. In the first half of 2025, Chinese-made vehicles accounted for 6 percent of total EU car sales, up from 5 percent a year earlier, according to ACEA and S&P Global Mobility. That may not sound seismic, but in a mature market like Europe, a one-point gain in a single year is significant. EU-based manufacturers still dominate with a 74 percent share, and Germany remains the production heavyweight, but the trajectory is what worries policymakers.
Consultants at AlixPartners estimate that by 2030, Chinese automakers could double their European market share to around 10 percent. That’s not an existential takeover—but it’s enough to pressure margins, accelerate price wars, and force faster innovation from incumbents.
So where does this “agreement” actually leave us? Somewhere in the gray zone between protectionism and pragmatism. Minimum price rules may blunt the sharpest edge of China’s cost advantage without fully choking off supply. They also buy time—time for European automakers to get their next-generation EVs out the door, and for Brussels to avoid a full-scale trade war it can’t really win.
In the end, this isn’t about tariffs versus free trade. It’s about control. Europe wants cheaper EVs, but on its own terms. China wants access to a massive market, but without being labeled the villain of the global energy transition. For now, both sides are pretending that carefully worded guidelines can square that circle.
Whether that truce holds once real cars—and real price tags—hit European showrooms is another story entirely.
