The Grand Affair in Newport: Reflections on the Audrain Concours d’Elegance and the Art of Judging
The gilded shores of Newport, Rhode Island, once the summer playground of America’s elite, once again played host to an event of extraordinary elegance and historical significance: the Audrain Concours d’Elegance. This annual celebration of automotive heritage has become a fixture on the international circuit, drawing collectors, enthusiasts, and connoisseurs from around the globe. From the manicured lawns of the Preservation Society’s historic estates to the sophisticated ambiance of the surrounding Newport community, the event represents the pinnacle of automotive artistry and engineering.
As Donald Osborne, the charismatic master of ceremonies and a true gentleman of the automotive world, once remarked, “What’s it going to take to get you out to the Audrain?” His words echoed the allure of this unique concours, one that has quickly risen to prominence alongside legendary events like Pebble Beach and Amelia Island. My own journey to Newport began with an invitation to participate as a judge, an honor I accepted with a mix of humility and excitement.
A Journey to the “Pebble Beach” of the East Coast
The first time I attended Pebble Beach, the granddaddy of all automotive concourses, I was relatively new to the world of high-end automobiles. It was a time before the dominance of social media, and I recall being rather unprepared for the sheer opulence and sophistication of the event. I even recall naively assuming the main judging day was just a casual gathering, perhaps similar to a local Cars & Coffee. I believe I showed up in shorts and a T-shirt—a sartorial misjudgment that quickly became apparent. However, I also noticed that Pulitzer Prize-winning automotive journalist Dan Neil was an honorary judge. A thought immediately popped into my head: “Why not me?”
The Audrain has been a major point of conversation for many years now. In fact, a lot of people tell me the Audrain is better than Pebble Beach. For instance, when Jay Leno visited Doris Duke’s estate, called Rough Point, for a podcast recording, he made the comment that the Audrain reminds him of Pebble Beach 15 years ago. Jay is an essential part of the Audrain in many ways; in fact, the mayor declared October 2, 2025, as Jay Leno Day.
How to Judge a World-Class Event?
So here I was, serving as a judge during the main show on Sunday. After a delectable breakfast of eggs, sausage, and coffee, the head judge, Phil Neff, asked the room, “Is there anyone here who hasn’t judged a concours?” No one raised their hand, including mine. Now, I’d never judged a high-end Sunday event like the Audrain before. But I’ve judged the parody car show, Concours d’LeMons, so many times that I’ve not only lost count, but I’ve also sworn never to do it again. Should I have raised my hand? Who knows, but it’s cars, right? How hard could it be? Remember, I’ve never faced a challenge that I couldn’t handle. Why not me?
Neff and his team assigned me to a judging group with Ray Evernham, the NASCAR Hall of Fame crew chief who won everything, often with driver Jeff Gordon. Evernham and I hit it off immediately when we realized we’d both raced at Pikes Peak. We were tasked with presenting a special award, the Sporting Choice Award. Essentially, we were looking for the most sporting car on the field. I asked head judge Neff for some clarification. Did he want us to focus more on sports cars, or actual race cars? “Yes,” he replied, smiling. This meant we were responsible for looking at and judging every car present that had either two doors or no doors. That’s well over 100 cars, and we only had two hours to do it in.
Sporting our judge hats, medallions, clipboards, pencils, and navy blazers, Evernham and I stepped onto the field and quickly came up with a plan. Like at all concours, the cars are divided into classes. We’d simply look at each class, identify one car that “popped,” and write down our top four or five favorites. Our instructions were not to get bogged down with the typical nitpicking minutiae that plagues modern car judging. Who cares if the trunk lining is wrong? In fact, don’t even open the trunk.
Still Not Simple: Navigating Perfection and Heritage
Two of the classes immediately made me realize the answer to my earlier “Why not me?” fantasy. Class D consisted of Ford GT40 road cars, six near as I could tell being identical-quality GT40 Mk1 homologation specials. For real, all looked equally awesome, and without checking carb-bolt alignment (as we were instructed not to do), I have no idea how you’d pick a winner. We couldn’t. Put another way, the people judging Class D had to be real and serious subject matter experts to make this call. The same was true with Class A, the prewar Alfa Romeo division, which consisted of six mind-blowingly excellent 8Cs. I couldn’t even begin to tell you why the car that won its class did so, though the burgundy beauty did go on to win Best of Show, and somehow that part totally makes sense.
In any case, we still came up with a short list of our favorites, though sacrifices had to be made. There was a Lamborghini 3500 GTZ Zagato Coupe that blew my mind because I’d never heard of it before (turns out it’s one of two ever built, and the other one is being purposely kept away from the public). However, I realized that as novel and “Wow!” as I thought the Zagato Lambo was, it wasn’t winning the Sporting Choice Award. For his part, Evernham was super into an exceedingly rare Allard JR that raced at the 1952 24 Hours of Le Mans. However, I quickly discovered he owns three Allards, and that we ought to strike this JR off our list. Sweet car, however. Fitted with a Jaguar C-Type body to comply with new Le Mans regulations but still powered by a 5.3-liter Cadillac V-8, it remains the most successful of the seven Allard JRs built.
The Hardest Choice: Balancing Beauty, History, and Sporting Merit
The hardest choice we had to make was for third place. It was between a 1949 Alfa Romeo 6C 2500 SS Touring Superleggera Coupe and a 1940 Cadillac Series 62 Bonham & Schwartz Convertible Victoria. I’m a sucker and a fiend for postwar Alfas. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I just love them to pieces. I suppose it’s mostly the Bakelite used on all the switchgear. This particular 6C was finished in a handsome blue and had a great backstory, including the fact its present owner hadn’t driven it since 1973 until the day before the Concours d’Elegance, on the Audrain Tour d’Elegance.
However, we found the Caddy more sporting. It was one of two, custom-bodied in Pasadena, California, by the same folks (Bonham & Schwartz) who did Clarke Gable’s Duesenberg; the candy-red Series 62 just popped. It had that wow factor, the know-it-when-you-see-it, that extra something special. One of two made, yes, but the only survivor as its sibling burned up in a fire. This car was built for a wealthy Californian oil baron family, the Doheny clan, that just happened to be the founder of a little town called Beverly Hills. We awarded the car our third-place vote, or in Audrain-speak, Honorable Mention.
The Final Call: Elegance Meets Endurance on the Newport Coast
For us, the Sporting Choice Award came down to two cars: an oligarchical 1938 Talbot-Lago T150 C Lago Figoni et Falaschi Teardrop Coupe and a light green 1951 Cisitalia 202SC Pinin Farina Cabriolet. The Talbot “Goutte d’Eau” certainly had the provenance to win. Aside from being the only long-wheelbase T150 C ever built (15 regular wheelbase versions were made), this particular car holds a racing record that will never be broken: Built in 1938, this T150 C won the Belgian Grand Prix at Spa in 1948, making it the oldest car to ever win a grand prix race. Imagine a 10-year-old car winning an F1 race today? That alone was almost enough to swing us. But not quite.
Perhaps it was the Talbot-Lago’s massive sunroof, or dark paint job, or the fact that by lengthening the car, the normally tidy Figoni et Falaschi shape looked a bit bloated, or maybe the Cisitalia was just that good. From my co-judge, Evernham: “The Cisitalia just spoke to me. The combination of color, stance, and placement of chrome created a picture in my mind of driving it down a beautiful coastline wearing my vintage Wayfarers.”
Exactly right. Look, there’s a good reason the Museum of Modern Art in New York includes a Cisitalia 202 (coupe) in its permanent collection: These little sports cars are just that spectacular. And somehow on this day, in that color, and with its top dropped, it was the car we
