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The Audrain Concours d’Elegance: 10 Years of Newport Perfection and How to Actually Judge a Concours
As the engine-induced applause from the final awards ceremony recedes into the salty sea breeze, I find myself mentally scrolling through the archives. Just a few days ago, I found myself amidst the elite crowd at the 2026 Audrain Concours d’Elegance, that exquisite confluence of horsepower and haute couture nestled in Newport, Rhode Island. A destination that has rapidly earned its place among the automotive aristocracy, alongside Pebble Beach and Villa d’Este. It was a weekend filled with the kind of sublime artistry and engineering excellence that still makes my heart race, even after a decade immersed in the rarified atmosphere of concours judging.
My journey to this year’s event was a rather spontaneous one. I was attending MODA, RM Sotheby’s impeccably curated show in Miami, when Donald Osborne—the maestro himself, known for his Italian fluency, suave bowtie flair, and operatic demeanor—caught my eye. “What’s it going to take to get you out to the Audrain?” he inquired, his eyes sparkling with that distinctive Audrain charm. The Audrain organization has extended invitations since its inception in 2019, but as our paths crossed in the Miami heat, I blurted out the thought that had been brewing: “Make me a judge?” Donald beamed, waved his hand as if casting a spell, and declared, “You’re a judge. See you in Newport.” The path from car critic to official judge was remarkably direct, proving that sometimes, bold initiative is all it takes.
Into the Deep End: Learning the Subtle Art of Judging
My first encounter with the granddaddy of all exclusive car events, Pebble Beach, was an entirely different experience. I was fresh into my automotive journalism career, before the social media deluge, and I hadn’t the faintest idea that such sophisticated affairs existed. I didn’t even know the proper attire, naively assuming the main event was just another casual “cars and coffee” type of gathering. I’m pretty sure I showed up in shorts and a t-shirt. What I did notice, however, was that a friend of mine—the Pulitzer Prize-winning automotive journalist, Dan Neil—was serving as an honorary judge. That struck me as quite prestigious. Then, a tiny worm from my ego, always ready to feast on opportunity, burrowed into my frontal lobe. The thought popped into my head: “Why not me?”
The Audrain isn’t Pebble Beach, nor does it aspire to be. When you talk to luminaries like Jay Leno, he’ll often suggest that Audrain is actually superior. I know this firsthand because during The Gathering at Doris Duke’s magnificent Newport ‘summer cottage’—Audrain’s answer to The Quail—Spike’s Car Radio, a podcast I’m honored to co-host with comedian and inventor of the legendary catchphrase “No soup for you!,” Spike Feresten, held a live recording with Jay Leno as our esteemed guest. He perfectly encapsulated the Audrain spirit by likening Motor Week to Pebble Beach 15 years ago. Leno, who owns, as he puts it, “a ridiculous house” in Newport, is integral to the Audrain fabric. So much so that the mayor, through a formal proclamation, declared October 2, 2025, as Jay Leno Day in Newport.
How to Judge? The Unspoken Rules of Elegance
So there I was, sitting at the judges’ breakfast, enjoying my coffee, eggs, and sausage, when the head judge, Phil Neff, surveyed the room with a wry smile. “Is there anyone here who hasn’t judged a concours?” he asked. Not a single hand went up, including mine. Granted, I hadn’t judged a fancy-pants Sunday like the Audrain, but I’d judged the parody car show, Concours d’LeMons, so many times that I’ve lost count and have sworn off it permanently. Should I have raised my hand? Who knows. But it’s cars, isn’t it? How hard could it possibly be? Remember, my ego is undefeated. Why not me?
Neff and his team assigned me to a station with Ray Evernham, a legendary NASCAR Hall of Fame crew chief who has won everything, often with Jeff Gordon at the helm. Evernham and I hit it off immediately; we discovered we’d both competed at Pikes Peak. Our task was to award the Sporting Choice Award. Basically, we were on the lookout for the most sporting car on the show field. I asked Head Judge Neff for clarification. Did he want us to focus more on sports cars, or actual race cars? “Yes,” he replied, that signature smile appearing again. This meant we were responsible for scrutinizing and judging every car present that had either two doors or no doors. That’s well over 100 cars, and we had only two hours to do it.
Sporting our judge hats, gold medallions, clipboards, № 2 pencils, and navy blazers, Evernham and I devised a plan. Like at all concours, the cars are divided into specific classes. We would simply look at each class, identify one car that particularly “popped” to us, and write down our top four or five favorites. Our instructions were explicit: do not get bogged down with the typical nitpicky minutiae that plagues modern car judging. Who actually cares if the trunk lining is slightly off color? In fact, the instructions explicitly told us not to even open the trunk.
Still Not Simple: The Weight of Excellence
Two of the classes quickly reminded me why my “Why not me?” fantasy was both ambitious and wildly overconfident. Class D consisted of Ford GT40 road cars; six of them, nearly identical homologation specials, looked equally awesome. Without checking every carb-bolt alignment (as we were strictly forbidden from doing), I have no idea how you could possibly pick a winner. We couldn’t. Put another way, the people judging Class D needed to be true subject matter experts to make that call. The same was true with Class A, the prewar Alfa Romeo division, which showcased six breathtakingly beautiful 8Cs. I couldn’t even begin to articulate why the car that won its class took the prize, though the burgundy beauty went on to win Best of Show, and somehow, in hindsight, that feels entirely appropriate.
In any case, we still managed to compile a shortlist of favorites, though sacrifices had to be made. There was a Lamborghini 3500 GTZ Zagato Coupe that blew my mind because I’d never seen one before (it turns out only two were ever built, and the other one is intentionally kept away from public view). However, I quickly realized that as novel and “wow”-inducing as the Zagato Lambo was, it wasn’t a contender for the Sporting Choice Award. For his part, Evernham was fixated on an exceedingly rare Allard JR that competed at the 1952 24 Hours of Le Mans. However, I soon discovered that he owns three Allards, so we had to strike this JR from our list. A sweet car, regardless. It was fitted with a Jaguar C-Type body to comply with new Le Mans regulations but was still powered by a 5.3-liter Cadillac V-8, making it the most successful of the seven Allard JRs built.
Making the Hardest Choices: Red Cadillacs vs. Blue Alfas
The hardest decision we had to make was choosing the third-place finisher. It came down to a toss-up 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 for postwar Alfas; there’s something about them I just adore. I suppose it’s mostly the Bakelite used on all the switchgear and the sleek lines. This particular 6C was finished in a handsome blue and had a wonderful backstory, including the fact that its present owner hadn’t driven it since 1973 until the day before the Concours d’Elegance, when he drove it 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 people (Bonham & Schwartz) who built Clarke Gable’s Duesenberg. The candy-red Series 62 just screamed performance; it had that wow factor, that “you just know it when you see it” quality. It was one of two made, yes, but the only survivor, as its sibling tragically burned up in a fire. This particular car was built
