The Holy Trinity of Italian Genius — Stellantis Heritage Unleashes Lancia, Abarth, and Alfa at Bologna’s Auto e Moto d’Epoca

The Holy Trinity of Italian Genius — Stellantis Heritage Unleashes Lancia, Abarth, and Alfa at Bologna’s Auto e Moto d’Epoca

If you’ve ever wondered what Italian passion looks like distilled into metal, chrome, and the occasional whiff of burnt oil, Stellantis Heritage just handed you the answer on a polished silver platter. This year’s Auto e Moto d’Epoca in Bologna (October 23–26) won’t just be another nostalgia trip through Europe’s most glamorous automotive archive. No — it’s a full-blooded celebration of Italy’s obsession with beauty, bravery, and speed.

At the centre of the show? Three legends from the Stellantis vault, each representing a different decade, a different dream, and one relentless national instinct — fare di più. Do more. Push harder. Build faster.

From the hallowed halls of the Heritage Hub in Turin and the Alfa Romeo Museum in Arese, emerge three machines that defined eras and defied reason:

  • the Lancia D25 (1954),
  • the Fiat-Abarth 750 Record (1956), and
  • the Alfa Romeo Scarabeo (1966).

Together, they’re not just cars. They’re rolling testaments to what happens when engineering meets espresso-fueled insanity.

The Mission: Vision, Velocity, Victory

Under the watchful eye of Roberto Giolito, head of Stellantis Heritage and designer of the Fiat Multipla (yes, that one), the brand’s historical wing isn’t just dusting off museum pieces. It’s telling stories — stories about how Italy built cars not merely to move, but to matter.

As Giolito puts it, these machines “aren’t signs of the past, but tangible proof of the Italian drive to innovate with style, courage, and imagination.” Translation: these are the greatest hits of an era when design sketches were drawn with cigarettes and conviction.

Lancia D25 (1954) — The Race That Never Was

If Enzo Ferrari had a rival worthy of his jealousy, it was Vittorio Jano — the genius behind the Lancia D25. Born from the ashes of the Carrera Panamericana-winning D24, this car was the ultimate 1950s racer that never got its chance to show off.

With a 3.75-litre V6 producing 305 hp and a top speed kissing 300 km/h, the D25 could’ve eaten early Ferraris for breakfast. It had the kind of obsessive engineering detail that would make modern chassis designers weep: transaxle rear end, inboard brakes, independent suspension, and a spaceframe chassis that used the engine as a structural member.

But fate — and Formula 1 — intervened. Lancia pulled out of sports car racing, and the D25 never got its day in the sun. Only one example survived, wearing its Pininfarina body like a tailored Italian suit that never went out to dinner. Now, in Bologna, it finally gets the spotlight it deserves — a mechanical opera in 12 cylinders (well, six, but you get the point).

Fiat-Abarth 750 Record (1956) — The Bullet That Beat Time

If Carlo Abarth were alive today, he’d be the kind of man who sets an alarm just to break it. The Fiat-Abarth 750 Record, designed by aerodynamicist and styling sorcerer Franco Scaglione, was a wind-cheating bullet that looked more UFO than automobile.

Its job? Simple: humiliate the stopwatch.

In 1956, at Monza, it smashed six endurance records — including the 24-hour run, covering 3,743 km at 155 km/h average speed. A 750cc engine. One driver. And a whole lot of audacity.

This wasn’t just speed; it was science dressed in aluminium. The Record’s teardrop shape influenced generations of Abarth and Fiat models, proving that performance and beauty could occupy the same slender space. Even Franklin D. Roosevelt Jr., son of the U.S. President, flew to Italy just to sign an exclusive deal with Abarth after seeing it. Because when Italy does small, it still does spectacular.

Alfa Romeo Scarabeo (1966) — The Rebel Prototype

And then there’s the Scarabeo. Even by Alfa Romeo standards, this 1966 prototype was pure mischief. It looked like a spaceship, sounded like a race car, and entered the world by flipping its entire roof forward instead of opening doors.

Under its O.S.I.-built skin lived the beating heart of a Giulia GTA — a twin-cam 1.6-litre four-cylinder — mounted transversely in the middle of the car. Radical? Absolutely. Functional? Shockingly so. The tubular chassis even used side members to store fuel tanks, a layout later echoed by Alfa’s racing prototypes.

It debuted at the Paris Motor Show that same year and immediately stole hearts (and headlines). The version on display in Bologna is the second prototype — with doors this time — and it remains an exquisite survivor from a time when Alfa didn’t just build cars; it built ideas on wheels.

Beyond Nostalgia

Between the Heritage Hub in Turin and the Museum in Arese, Stellantis isn’t merely keeping its past alive — it’s turning memory into momentum. Across 15,000 square meters of history, you’ll find engines, legends, and the sort of stories that make you believe the phrase Made in Italy still means something in metal.

So, if you find yourself in Bologna this October, skip the tortellini (just for an hour) and make a pilgrimage to where Italy’s golden era still hums. Three cars, three decades, one truth:

No one does beauty at speed quite like the Italians.

Source: Stellantis