BMW's S1000RR: probably the most controversial Euro bike since the Ducati 999. image thanks, bmw

It's 8 am, and I'm in my robe, sucking down black coffee, the laptop glowing on the table in front of me. I'm cranky and half awake, trying to figure out what's going on in the world. Foggily perusing the Internet, I click on an image of the street version of the new BMW S1000R, launched this week in Monza. As the larger photo fills in, coffee sprays from my mouth all over the screen. My jaw hangs open as the Lavazza drips down the screen. I'm having a really hard time believing this is the finished bike. Photoshop trickery, perhaps? Nope, this is the real thing. Really? No joke? Really. Wow.

I'm sure there are many who will disagree with my assessment of the S1000RR's visual merit and, in pondering this, I am reminded of a classic Twilight Zone episode entitled "The Eye Of The Beholder". In it, a woman's face, hidden underneath bandages from her 11th reconstructive surgery operation, is revealed to doctors who gasp and pronounce the operation unsuccessful--"she's still ugly." We then see that the woman is stunningly beautiful, and the camera shifts to show the porcine faces of the nurses and doctors. A man with the same "condition" arrives to escort her to a village where her looks will not disturb society, and comforts her by saying that "beauty is in the eye of the beholder".

The race version of the S1000RR is a beauty. With factory team riders Ruben Xaus and Troy Corser, the S1000RR has competed in the WSBK series since the start of the 2009 season. They haven't tasted podium champagne yet, but the BMW team has posted encouraging results, including a top-ten finish by Corser in the S1000RR's debut race at Philip Island. It was a tremendous coup for the World Superbike series to attract BMW, and anticipation for the street version of the S1000RR has been understandably high. But the white, red, blue & black livery of the racebike acted as a sort of industrial camouflage, so it was difficult to guess how the road-going version would look.

So, is the streetbike a beauty? Well...she's got a great personality. The mechanical specs of the S1000RR are certainly impressive: defeatable ABS, variable intake manifolds, dynamic traction control (DTC), fuel mapping adjustable for 4 different modes, engine braking management, F1-style valve actuation w/ti valves. The S1000RR has 600 Supersport sizing, BMW says the 1000cc inline 4-cylinder motor is the lightest in the class, with an equally impressive power to weight ratio. All this at a street price that is rumored to be within reach of the Japanese literbikes. Very exciting.

So...a beauty? Well, other than the aforementioned "spit take", my first thought upon seeing photos of the street BMW S1000RR was that Pierre Terblanche deserves an apology. Terblanche became notorious via his 999 design, the replacement for Tamburini's masterstroke 916. The 999 was almost universally panned as an ugly mess, and untold mouthfuls of coffee were aspirated onto computer screens when it was introduced in 2003. A "visually challenged" motorbike that never sold well enough, the 999 nearly sank Ducati, and in some quarters, Terblanche's name became synonymous with motorcycle design missteps (conveniently discounting that he was also responsible for the Ducati Supermono, one of the best looking bikes of all time.)

Compared to the visual confusion that is the S1000RR, the 999 is a sublime masterpiece. The S1000RR is an "asymmetrical design." In plain-speak, both sides of the motorcycle look completely different. It is as if the bike were split down the middle, the halves given to two design teams with no knowledge of what each other was doing. The fairings and tank feature large patches of black plastic that vector towards unknown horizons. The right side of the S1000RR features three flared gills, the left, one large single duct. If the bike's face could speak, it would likely say "ARRRGGGH, Matey!" The left headlight's shape is a semi-circle, and the right looks quite like a pirate's eyepatch. The dull greenish-yellow hue of the street bike reminds one to check Junior's Pampers; let's hope the US market gets a racier color option when the bike is launched here (in fact, black and silver versions were also shown.)

The racebike has many of the same asymmetrical features, but not the headlights, which exaggerate the mismatches. You'd be hard-pressed to identify a visual "flow line" on the street S1000RR; if it were jazz music, the bike would be Ornette Coleman, not Stan Getz. Modern art? Well, more Picasso than Edward Hopper. Sculpturally, the S1000RR looks like it was built with "found objects". Do motorcycles need to be beautiful, in the traditional sense of the word? Or is it better to push the boundaries and expectations of what a motorcycle could or should look like? It has often taken audiences time to catch up with new forms of art, to appreciate visual genius brought forth from the future. The BMW S1000RR's asymmetrical look may point the way forward. It took the better part of six years for the Ducati 999 to be viewed in a positive light, so perhaps the S1000RR will enjoy the same retroactive respect.

BMW have a long history of beautiful racing motorcycle designs - for proof, check out Laurel Allen's and Mark Gardiner's excellent book "BMW Racing Motorcycles - The Mastery Of Speed". At the moment, however, the S1000RR in its street iteration seems a bit of a misstep. Aesthetically, current BMW street motorcycles are strong statements, but few would identify them as traditional "objects of desire" from a visual standpoint. Their true beauty lies more in their engineering and performance. For many, the S1000RR's impressive brace of technology will be attraction enough.

But perhaps I'm all-wrong, and the S1000RR is truly beautiful. I owned a 2005 999 (and a K1200LT), so I know firsthand that beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. Once I finish this cup of coffee, I'm gonna go look at myself in the bathroom mirror.

I've got to make sure that I don't have a pig face.