Photo credit tktktktkttk
Von Koenigsegg at his factory, which housed fighter jets for the Swedish Air Force until 2003; the squadron’s logo, a ghost, is visible on the back wall and is appliqued
Swede
Sensation
B y J o sh D e a n
How
Christian von Koenigsegg
took on the
ultracompetitive world
of supercars—
and won
p h o t o g r a p hs B y
Photo credit tktktktkttk
vincent fournier
on every Koenigsegg car.
93
A
p h o t o in C hr i s t i a n v o n Ko e ni g s e g g ’s
office shows one of the 41-year-old
Swede’s limited-edition supercars—a
2011 Agera R, in fire-engine red—alongside a sparkly gold abomination that
looks like it drove off the set of Chitty
Chitty Bang Bang. The latter is a re-
creation of the car von Koenigsegg first
saw at age 5 in a stop-motion Norwegian
film called Flaklypa Grand Prix, which
tells the story of a small-town bicycle repairman who builds a race car from scrap
parts and—in the face of doubt and ridicule from established automakers—goes
on to win the 24 Hours of Le Mans.
Von Koenigsegg watched the film dozens of times and, with each viewing, became more certain of its message: Anyone
can make a great car. “I just thought, ‘If
a bike repairman can do it, so can I,’” von
Koenigsegg says in his office at Koenigsegg Automotive AB, located on a former
Swedish Air Force base on the country’s
verdant south coast.
Von Koenigsegg’s stocky frame is clad
in slim-fit designer jeans and a tailored
blue oxford with a small CvK monogrammed on the breast pocket—though
these aren’t the first things you’d notice
about the man. He suffers from alopecia
areata, an autoimmune disease that
causes the body to reject hair and can result in partial or total follicle loss. The
precise cause is undetermined, but stress
is a known trigger. In early company photos, von Koenigsegg has a full head of dark
hair; however, for many years, he’s been
not only bald but also lacking eyebrows
and any other visible body hair. “Maybe
it’ll come back,” he says with a shrug. “I
don’t really know.”
Von Koenigsegg’s bald pate and his
mellifluous, lightly accented English,
not to mention his headquarters on a
94
remote, decommissioned military base,
bring to mind a Bond villain. And the association is apt, for while von Koenigsegg’s ambitions may not be malevolent,
he’s nevertheless bent on world domination, at least in the realm of seven-figure
supercars.
The automobile industry is littered
with the skeletons of failed startups
driven by a single man’s all-consuming vision. Think Tucker, DeLorean, Fisker—
and those are just the famous ones.
(A major recent exception, of course, is
Elon Musk’s Tesla Motors Inc.) Conventional wisdom holds that it’s essentially
impossible to create a car company from
scratch and actually make it work. The
costs are too high; the barriers to entry,
too great. But that’s what von Koenigsegg
has done.
Koenigsegg Automotive’s cars—which
start at $1.4 million—are today some of
the most exclusive and sought-after assembly-line vehicles on earth. In the best
of years, the company builds only 12 or 14,
each one tailored to a specific buyer. Earlier this year, the company built the 100th
car in its 19-year history. Nicknamed the
Hundra (Swedish for Hundred), the
1,030-horsepower, carbon-fiber Agera S
was constructed from more than 4,000
custom parts and finished with stripes of
24-karat gold leaf, applied by an artisan
flown in from Italy. It’s bound for a customer in Hong Kong. “Asia is definitely
our biggest market,” von Koenigsegg says.
Koenigsegg Automotive’s only effective
competitors in the so-called hypercar
space (loosely defined as limited-edition,
handbuilt cars costing in excess of $1 million) are Italy’s Pagani Automobili SpA
and France’s Bugatti Automobiles SAS;
the latter currently dominates the category with a whopping annual output of 30
to 35 vehicles. Koenigsegg controls about
25 percent of the market but has the influence of a far larger brand, at least
among exotic-car aficionados. At April’s
Geneva auto show, the Hundra was
named “Most Popular Hypercar,” beating
out highly anticipated masterpieces by
Automobili Lamborghini SpA, Bugatti,
Ferrari SpA, McLaren Automotive Ltd.
and Porsche SE.
Koenigsegg Automotive is known especially for performance. The company
holds the world record for acceleration
(zero to 300 kilometers [186 miles] per
hour in 14.53 seconds), for braking (300 to
zero kph in 6.66 seconds) and—the one
that makes its founder proudest—for both
acceleration and braking: zero to 300 kph
and back to zero again in 21.19 seconds, a
number that suggests outstanding overall
performance rather than just raw power.
Darren Jablow, a supercar connoisseur
and founder of online car-buying site
Speedlist, describes Koenigsegg cars as the
“manic, peel-your-face-back, fighter-jet
hot rods of the hypercar world.”
The field of hypercars swells this year
with the unveiling of seven-figure sculptures on wheels by Ferrari (LaFerrari),
McLaren (the P1) and Porsche (the 918
Spyder). Von Koenigsegg isn’t concerned.
“Out of 7 billion human beings, 100 a year
are buying hypercars,” he says. “We’re already a big player in a tiny segment.”
And although von Koenigsegg plans to
ramp up production for 2014 and beyond,
it won’t be by much. “We could live very
well on 18 to 20 cars,” he says—a number
so minuscule the company barely registers within the wider automotive industry.
Ferdinand Dudenhoeffer, director
of the Center of Automotive Research
at Germany’s University of Applied Sciences, estimates that about 67 million cars
One supercar
connoisseur
describes Koenigsegg
cars as the ‘manic,
peel-your-face-back,
fighter-jet hot rods
of the hypercar
world.’
The Agera R, which holds world records for acceleration and braking
96
are sold annually worldwide and that even
an exclusive automaker such as RollsRoyce Motor Cars Ltd. is selling some
4,000. “A company like Koenigsegg,”
Dudenhoeffer says, “is more a hobby than
a business.”
Von Koenigsegg grew up in the suburbs
of Stockholm, the son of a serial entrepreneur and a haute couture hatmaker whose
clients included Sweden’s royal family.
A born tinkerer, von Koenigsegg took
apart toasters and tape players before
moving on to go-carts, mopeds and motorbikes. Even as a child, he says, he wouldn’t
just look at a side mirror and think, “Cool!”
Instead, he would wonder precisely why it
was constructed as it was.
“I never say I’m a car designer,” says von
Koenigsegg, who didn’t bother with college
and has no formal training in design or engineering, on a tour of his surprisingly
quiet factory. The two-story space housed
Saab fighter jets for the Swedish Air Force
until 2003; the squadron’s logo, a ghost,
has been appliqued on the back window of
every Koenigsegg built since the company
moved in. “I like to say the car designs itself
but that I’m the guide,” he says.
Most anything that ends up in a Koenigsegg vehicle begins in the founder’s brain,
often expressed as a squiggle on a napkin.
The shape of Koenigsegg cars today is still
basically the same as the one that von Koenigsegg first imagined in August 1994:
a midengine car with short front and rear
overhangs, large side air intakes, a round
windshield and a detachable hardtop. It
took von Koenigsegg two years to make
a running prototype of that car, which
would become the CC (for competition
coupe). “Let’s say the vision has stayed intact,” he says, opening the door of a royal
blue Agera R with black accents.
Von Koenigsegg has just returned from
Singapore—he’s fighting fatigue, as well
as a cold—where he personally delivered
an Agera S to that country’s first-ever
owner of a Koenigsegg. (Because of Singapore’s insanely high automobile taxes, it
cost the buyer $4.5 million.) “They say it
is the fastest, most powerful car ever sold
in Singapore,” von Koenigsegg says, noting that the speed limit in the tiny citystate is 90 kph—300 kph slower than the
top recorded speed of an Agera S.
Von Koenigsegg makes his own brakes, engines and just about everything else in the car, right down to the titanium bolts stamped with his family crest.
The model for most automakers, especially small ones, is to take existing parts—
brakes, engines, transmissions—and
combine them in a car of proprietary design. It’s far cheaper and typically more
pragmatic from an engineering perspective to buy parts from companies that have
already spent thousands of hours and millions of dollars on research and
development.
Von Koenigsegg looks at things differently. His company not only makes its
own brakes, engines and transmissions
but also nearly everything else in the
car, right down to the titanium bolts, every one of which is stamped with the
company logo, a stripped-down version
of the 900-year-old von Koenigsegg
family crest. The result, Car and Driver
editor-in-chief Eddie Alterman says, is a
truly artisanal supercar. “He’s rethought
98
just about everything,” Alterman says.
In total, some 4,000 hours of handcraftsmanship goes into each vehicle.
Though Koenigsegg offers standard models—the Agera S and the Agera R (which
runs on biofuel) are his current offerings—
the company considers itself a bespoke
shop. “People often ask, ‘How customized
can I have my car?’ If you pay us enough,
we’ll build you a helicopter,” von Koenigsegg says. “I think we are capable technically of doing pretty much anything.”
When I ask if there’s anyone to whom
he won’t sell a car, von Koenigsegg replies that until recently he’d always said
yes to anyone who could afford to buy
one. That’s changed. “We now say no if
we think they’re not the right buyer,”
he says, vaguely pointing out that certain people are simply too much trouble. “It doesn’t happen often, but that’s
quite a nice thing to be able to do.”
One thing that isn’t a barrier to entry,
he says, is skill. Every Koenigsegg car
comes with a full suite of what von Koenigsegg calls “safety nets,” including traction control, stability control and an
antilock braking system (ABS). “This
makes the cars very easy to handle and
very safe in any driving condition,” he
says. “Anyone with common sense and
a driver’s license can safely handle a Koenigsegg.” All the systems, except for the
ABS, can be turned off if the driver feels
he’s experienced enough to do so—which
von Koenigsegg does not often recommend. “If the controls are turned off and
full power is used, you need to be very
skilled,” he says.
“In day-to-day traffic, it is surprisingly
docile and easy to drive,” says Jeffrey
Cheng, Newport Beach, California–based
100
Hot Wheels
Koenigsegg Automotive’s
greatest hits
CCR (2004)
An 806-horsepower engine helped this
car to set the Guinness World Record for
fastest assembly-line vehicle.
CCX (2006)
First model to meet U.S. safety regulations.
Note the company’s unique door, which
reinvented the gull-wing style.
CCXR (2007)
This 1,018-hp model runs on biofuel. It was
billed as the world’s first environmentally
correct supercar.
Agera (2010)
Swedish for take action, the Agera
has seven speeds and a twin-turbo
V-8 that puts out 910 hp.
Agera R (2011)
Koenigsegg’s most recent model runs
on biofuel and boasts a top speed of
440 kph. Cost: $1.6 million.
a project that will further redefine the
concept of a hypercar—a money-is-noobject venture begun at the behest of his
Chinese dealer, who desired something
“extreme” to sell to his more-demanding
customers. “We are spending thousands
of hours of engineering and tooling and
testing for a very limited number of cars,”
von Koenigsegg tells me.
The One:1 is named after its ambition
to be the first assembly-line vehicle to
truly achieve a one-to-one ratio of weight
and horsepower. If successfully produced, it will weigh 1,400 kilograms
(3,100 pounds) and put out 1,400 horsepower, a quantum leap over the 965
horsepower of the base-model Agera.
“Other cars have achieved this but by
measuring dry weight—no oil, no water,
no fuel,” von Koenigsegg says. His number will take into account all the necessary fluids and even the driver.
Computer simulations project that the
One:1 will be the fastest Koenigsegg yet,
capable of 450 kph or more. If the computers are correct, it will also be the fastest car
in the world from zero to 200, from zero to
300 and from zero to 400. Engineers expect the last number to be around 20 seconds. To put that in perspective, it takes
the Bugatti Veyron 45 seconds to achieve
400 kph. Von Koenigsegg expects to have
a prototype by the end of the year.
Prospective buyers should note that the
strictly limited production of six has been
presold and that there’s already plenty of
pent-up demand should any of those lucky
few fall through. The price isn’t yet public,
but von Koenigsegg says it’s “substantially
higher” than that of the Agera S. Even so,
he admits, the company will almost certainly lose money on the project—which
he says doesn’t concern him. Building a
hypercar that sets new land-speed and acceleration records will only burnish Koenigsegg ’s credentials, and future
Koenigsegg cars will likely benefit from
the trickle-down R&D originating with
the One:1.
Von Koenigsegg toggles through a series of renderings, admiring his imminent creation from various angles. “No
one needs a car like this,” he says, twisting his mouth into a smile. “They just
need to want one.”
courtesy of koenigsegg automotive
president of JDJ Investments and the
owner of a silver Koenigsegg CCX, a model
created exclusively to meet the standards
of the U.S. market. Of course, that’s not
why he has one. “It’s just brute horsepower when you step on the pedal—like
a locomotive,” he says.
Cheng’s car is one of 12 known Koenigseggs in the U.S. He bought it in early 2013
from Ben Abrams, a Seattle entrepreneur
who felt he wasn’t making the most of it.
“Driving a supercar like the CCX on public
roads with speed limits could be compared
to dating a supermodel but only being allowed to hold hands,” Abrams wrote on
the website eGarage upon selling the car.
Another American owner, a telecommunications entrepreneur from Chicago who
prefers to remain anonymous, owns two
Koenigseggs. He actually drives them to
the grocery store, although he’s also used
one to achieve 215 mph on an airport runway, likening the experience to piloting a
jet plane.
So coveted are Koenigseggs that even
their namesake doesn’t own one. To take a
car off the line would be to take a car away
from a customer, so von Koenigsegg instead drives a Saab 9-5 with a cracked
windshield. He bought the white fourdoor—the last all-new model Saab built—in
2009, when he briefly led a coalition (including a Chinese auto group and San Diego–based investor Mark Bishop) in a bold
attempt to save the iconic Swedish brand.
The deal went so far as to be announced in
the press before von Koenigsegg and his
partners pulled out, after negotiations
dragged on for more than six months and
promises from various banks and governments went unmet. “Looking back, it was
the right thing to do,” he says. “Many people say to me now, ‘You were lucky that
never happened.’ They might be right.”
Still, it’s an intriguing thought: What
could Christian von Koenigsegg have
done with Saab? And would the ultimate
artisanal automaker really have been
happy mass-producing automobiles?
“My dream has always been to build cars,”
von Koenigsegg says. “I love hypercars,
but I’m just as intrigued by the idea of improving a normal car.”
Back in his office, Koenigsegg flips his
computer monitor around to show me