1965 Cadillac Coupe Deville on 2040-cars

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Cadillac CT6 styling will be evolutionary, not like Elmiraj

Well, this is at least a little disappointing. It turns out Cadillac's long-awaited flagship, the CT6, won't be ushering in a wholesale change in the company's design. That's coming from GM Design guru Ed Welburn, meaning it should be taken as gospel (unless of course he's just trying to hoodwink us). "It'll be different and it will certainly stand out in the portfolio," Welburn told Automotive News. "But you won't see a real shift in direction." Instead, Art and Science will be shown in yet another new form, and will "continue to evolve," according to Welburn, although what that means is unclear. What we can say for certain, though, is that Art and Science on the CT6 will not evolve into the stunning Elmiraj Concept. "I think Elmiraj was more of an influence on some other things we're working on for Cadillac," Welburn said, we're guessing with a smirk and an air of mystery. Considering we have yet to see the CT6, it's hard to tell whether this will be good news or bad, although based on the critical reception to the Elmiraj, we're a little bit disappointed by Welburn's statements. Still, only time will tell whether the styling of the CT6 will really work out.

Junkyard Gem: 1997 Cadillac Catera

GM's Cadillac Division was having a tough time in the early 1990s, with an onslaught of Lexuses and Infinitis pouring across the Pacific to steal their younger customers while high-end German manufacturers picked off their older customers. Flying an S-Class-priced model between assembly lines in Turin and Hamtramck hadn't worked out, so why not look to the European outposts of the far-flung GM Empire for the next Cadillac? That's how the Catera was born, and I have found a rare first-year example in a North Carolina car graveyard. Across the Atlantic, GM's Opel and Vauxhall were doing good business with prosperous European car buyers by selling them the sleek rear-wheel-drive Omega B (whose platform also lived beneath the Holden VT Commodore in Australia). Here was a genuine German design that competed with success against BMW and Audi on their home turf! So, the Omega B was Americanized and renamed the Catera. Opel wasn't a completely unknown brand to Americans at the time, since its cars were sold here with their own badging through Buick dealerships from the middle 1950s through the late 1970s (for a much shorter period, American Pontiac dealers attempted to sell Vauxhalls). Even after that, plenty of Opel DNA showed up in the products of U.S.-market GM divisions. The Catera was by far the most affordable Cadillac for 1997, with an MSRP starting at $29,995 (about $59,113 in 2024 dollars). Being a genuine German car, it looked much more convincingly European than the DeVille ($36,995), Eldorado ($37,995) and Seville ($39,995). Inspired by the ducks on the Cadillac emblem (they were really supposed to be martlets, mythical birds with no feet and occasionally lacking beaks), Cadillac's marketers went after youthful car shoppers with a whimsical animated duck named Ziggy. For the 21st century, the birds were removed from the Cadillac emblem in order to attract California buyers under 45 years of age. As we all know, the Catera flopped hard in the marketplace. What sold well in Europe turned out not to translate so well in in North America, especially when bearing the badges of such a historically prestigious brand. The Catera's engine was a 54-degree 3.0-liter V6 rated at 200 horsepower and 192 pound-feet. Just as had been the case with its predecessor, the Allante, no manual transmission was available.

Liberace's gilded Cadillac could be yours

With their chrome grilles and oversized wheels, it's hard not to notice a Cadillac these days. But this one is even more blingtastic on account of the 23.75-karat gold-leaf bodywork.
The 1931 Cadillac Golfer's Drop Head Coupé is said to have belonged to the inimitable performer Liberace, who didn't just have it covered in gold - he also had the exterior door handles plated in silver and the inside handles in 24-karat gold as well. It's also got a white leather interior and headlights that - well ahead of their time (if you'll pardon us, Mr. Tucker) - pivot with the steering wheel. All that bling is powered by a 5.7-liter V8 mated to a three-speed automatic transmission that pales in comparison to the seven, eight and even nine-speed gearboxes appearing on luxury sedans today.
The project was undertaken over the course of three years in the 1970s by one Jack Smith from Kansas. Smith (if that was his real name) sold it at auction in 1975, and it was most recently displayed for 12 years at a museum in Germany which claimed it was Liberace's own. The car is now going up for sale by Barons' at the Sandown Park horse racing track in Surrey, England, on September 17, when bidding starts at 85,000 pounds - equivalent to over $130,000 at today's rates.