Comparativa Test V12. Aventador SVJ vs 812 Superfast.

Póngame ambos.

This is it. This is the most exciting drive possible. Nothing can match this, or so I decide after an insane 20-minute stint in the Lamborghini Aventador SVJ. And then something does match it: the Ferrari 812 Superfast. Although in many ways very different, the Ferrari is every bit as demanding and rewarding as the Lamborghini. Both leave me sweating and exhilarated, excited and energised, but also saddened. Because cars like this won’t be around for much longer.

It’s never been common, and of late the 12-cylinder engine has been a rarity in any shape or form. Scarcest of them all is the naturally aspirated kind, designed to tick all the performance-related boxes and stir emotions to their roots. While a supercharged or twin-turbo V8 can come close in terms of output and torque, the free-breathing 12 circles its own planet as far as throttle response, mid-range pick-up and a fearless redline are concerned. It partly trades refinement for raucousness, linearity for eruption, manners for raw performance.



The flipside of that rawness is that any naturally aspirated 12-cylinder road car will struggle to meet emissions regulations and will fall well short of the fuel economy that smaller-capacity turbocharged and hybrid engines can offer. As a breed the unforced-induction V12 may be doomed, but it’s not going quietly. We went to Emilia-Romagna, home turf for both Ferrari and Lamborghini, to drive the two key survivors, the 812 Superfast and the Aventador SVJ, tackling climbs, descents and corners aplenty to see what it is they can do that nothing else can match.

The two fighters
The mid-engined, all-wheel-drive Lamborghini is the limited-edition SVJ version of the Aventador, with various changes including new cylinder heads and a lighter flywheel. The front-engined, rear-wheel-drive Ferrari is the 812 Superfast, the improved-all-round replacement for the F12.

Numerically, they’re close together. The 65º block of the Ferrari displaces 6496cc, while the Lamborghini’s 60º V12 is just 2cc larger. Both offer peak power at 8500rpm: 789bhp in the case of the 812, 759 for the Aventador SVJ; credit should go to the Ferrari’s freer flowing intake and exhaust systems. They’re closer on torque: 530lb ft vs 531. Dry weight is an identical 1525kg.

Their on-paper performance is fag-paper close too: the 812 Superfast will do 0-62mph in 2.9 seconds, hits double that speed in 7.9sec, and then peaks at 211mph, while the Aventador SVJ takes just 2.8 seconds to 62 and 8.6 to 125mph, and has a top speed of 219mph. The numbers may be close, and both cars may be loud, thirsty, dramatic and utterly thrilling at speed, but the duo are quite different in character. What sets the two beasts apart more than anything else is the vastly different packaging.



Inside the cockpits

All but the slenderest of drivers will find the SVJ tricky to get into and out of, and once inside they’ll find unwelcoming sports seats, a narrow pedal box, poor headroom and atrocious visibility. Overhead traffic lights are invariably out of sight, the huge rear-three-quarter blindspot is a potentially very expensive game of chance, stalks and knees are forever colliding, and the mix of Audi and Lamborghini details still doesn’t look right seven years after the Aventador’s launch.

In contrast to the Lambo, the Ferrari is almost a luxury suite. The seats come in three sizes, legroom is a relief, visibility could hardly be better, and it takes no time to master the manettino drive-mode selector, which lets you tweak the car’s manners with aplomb.

That said, the Ferrari’s front end is long enough to drop out of sight in dense fog, the secondary controls are fiddly and the turning circle is massive. Let’s keep it all in perspective: these are not comfortable, spacious cars if you’re driving all day, and they’re not luggage-friendly. Driven in full attack mode, they’ll both hammer your teeth, tattoo your palms and crack some spinal discs.



Firing them up emphasises their differences. In the SVJ, your index finger lifts the red cage door that protects the hell-breaks-loose button. In the 812, the red start-stop activator sits just a thumb stretch away on the busy steering wheel. The Ferrari engine responds with vigour to the starter button, boosts idle speed for a few seconds then settles down. The Lamborghini V12 initially sounds like it’s struggling to remember its firing order before it’s prepared for screaming and shivering action. Still searching for the right rhythm, the idle speed eventually manifests itself, noisily clearing its many throats.

The throttle response of the Lambo feels like it can trigger thunder and lightning simultaneously. So you’d better think twice before deactivating the stability control, because all it takes to get you out of line is a puddle or two, some soggy leaves or an unforeseen imperfection in the road. All-wheel drive is a help, but the torque split clearly favours the rear wheels. On slow and winding turf, critical handling attitudes include snap oversteer and snap understeer. It’s feisty.

On the road

High above Pistoia, in the heart of wild boar country, the two cars display remarkably different road manners. In extremis, the Ferrari is quick to switch from nose-heavy to tail-happy. On the same roads at the same speeds, the Lamborghini is equally hard work but feels a touch faster to turn, thanks to the all-wheel-drive system. While its driven front wheels help to momentarily pull the car out of trouble and straighten up a ragged line, the system adds weight, numbs the steering when entering slow corners too fast, and hampers manoeuvrability.



The 812 Superfast is emphatically rear-wheel drive, even on a straight road, in the dry, with the throttle not fully depressed. While the transaxle layout results in a perfectly balanced weight distribution, there is at all times enough grunt on tap to alert the e-diff and summon stability control. With the electronic aids off, the Ferrari is prone to spinning in tricky conditions.

The 812 encourages its driver to push deeper and deeper into tight bends, to corner with awesome lateral acceleration, to stimulate the driving wheels with generous boosts of torque, and to use steering and throttle to massage the delicate cornering balance. In second gear, the Ferrari willingly lights impromptu bonfires close to the apex. In fourth, short straights are inhaled as a whole without pausing for breath. In Race, full-throttle upshifts almost hurt. The brakes are simply sensational in terms of modularity, performance and repeatability.

On the autostrada, the Aventador is a road shark par excellence. Its brakes respond with the finality of a light switch. The heavy yet super-direct steering works with micrometric precision. At speed the dampers assume the lowest position and tautest calibration. The ALA active-aero system can either increase the downforce or reduce the drag resistance above 125mph, and the split ground-effect system directs airflow to the wheels that need it most, via a set of invisible motorised flaps.



While the Ferrari softens its dampers at a finger’s split-second command, the most extreme Aventador bottoms out even in Strada mode until the chassis-control warning light comes on. The SVJ feels more at home on the racetrack than the Ferrari, while the 812 is much better than the Lambo on narrow and/or badly surfaced minor roads. Both are at their best on fast roads, where they zig-zag through traffic like invincible alien objects guided from a distant star.

What about the all-wheel steering fitted as standard on both supercars? It’s impossible to detect the transition from synchro-steer to counter-steer, so there’s certainly no harmful effect on either car’s dynamics.

How anti-social are they really? They’re certainly both thirsty, the Lamborghini in particular. And they’re not only noisy, but both have extra popping and banging engineered-in. In some circumstances the noise is a virtue, part of a piece with the looks. People love the whole spectacle. Sorry, some people love the whole spectacle. In our three days in these cars on these roads, we saw jaws drop, barking dogs leaping excitedly into the air and traffic cops egging us on, ZZ Top-style.



The teenage crazies on their scooters would do anything to snatch a picture, rejoicing with thumbs up and high-fives. In working-class Italy – where hoarse diesels and breathless three-cylinder minis rule the roads – the two loud supercars are received with enthusiasm and national pride, not envy and admonitory finger-swagging.

On the open road, however, we feel less like heroes; too many other drivers would really rather not move over to let us have our fun. It’s safer to escape to the country, where traffic tends to be light and corners outnumber straights 99 to one.

V12 twin test: verdict

Choosing between these two V12s is as subjective as favouring red wine over white. The Lambo engine marks the ultimate evolution of a legend which is almost as old as the brand. The Ferrari is powered by a more advanced and more economical engine, but as soon as revs soar it is every bit as explosive. Logic says these cars are way too fast for normal traffic, too radical for normal roads, too challenging for normal owners, too vulnerable to qualify as daily drivers. But Lord knows we’ll miss them when they’re gone.

 

Vino tinto y Lambo.

 

Que barbaridad. Vaya dos obras maestras.
El diseño clásico del 812 con su disposición motriz me parecen sublimes, aparte, de que mi Cuore Ferrarista siempre me tira al Rosso.
Pero a eses niveles estratosféricos, me imagino que ya todo es subjetivo, porque los números, los datos....parecen irreales.

 

Vaya par de aparatos. Me quedo con el Ferrari.

 

Ningun pero a ninguno como es obvio, pero me gusta mucho mas el aventador.

Al final en esos niveles entiendo que es cuestion de gustos, ambos andan muchisimo mas de los que la mayoria de los mortales somos capeces de exprimir y mas si no es en circuito.

 

El verde no me lo toquéis mucho que me gusta tenerlo limpio sin huellas de dedos hacedme el favor.

 

Yo no los veo rivales directos, aunque ambos sean biplaza y V12. Serían dos coches perfectamente complementarios en un garaje soñado.

Obviamente el SVJ es un coche más radical, siendo el 812 más utilizable. Al margen del cante que da el SVJ (que no es impeditivo de nada para muchos), la entrada y salida al mismo es mucho más laboriosa, tiene menor visibilidad, tiene pinta de rozar con todo más fácilmente, y unas dimensiones bastante peores para el uso diario. 4.94 de largo (por 4.65 del Ferrari), 2.09 de ancho (por 1.97), y solo 1.13 de alto! (por 1.27).

 

No me compraría ninguno, pero sería una experiencia "lifetime" darme un viajazo guapo con el Ferralla.

 

Forget it’s an endangered species, the big bore atmo V12 has never been as good as this. in fact, we take to the Italian countryside to name the best

We’re often told, in various capacities, that aspects of how we exist today are as good as they’ve ever been. Or, taking it a step further, they’re as good as they’ll ever get.

In a motoring context, this equates to petrol combustion engines – ones sans forced induction and hybrid gubbins – being at the peak of their powers. Ever stricter emissions laws and the electric push are becoming too hard to ignore. Engines with large capacities and 12 cylinders are fast becoming endangered species.

So take this feature as more of a celebration than a comparison, for the Lambo Aventador SVJ (limited to 900 sold-out units priced at $949,640) and Ferrari 812 Superfast ($609,888) are the pinnacle of the breed.

These Italian thoroughbreds take automotive porn to the next level. It’s just a shame the thunderous acoustics that emanate, somehow being a sound you feel as much as you hear, can’t be truly heard via these pages. The V12 engine is a rarity in any shape or form, but it seems the unique, pure emotion both of these bona-fide supercars conjure might be, sadly, on borrowed time.

MOTOR news: Ferrari reveals future platforms

The displacement of the two glorious V12s is virtually identical at 6496cc for the Ferrari and 6498cc for the Lambo. Bore and stroke are not far apart either, with 94.0 x 78.0mm and 95.0 x 76.4 respectively. The same applies to the cut-out speed, where the Superfast eclipses its rival with 8900 against 8700rpm.

Thanks to the notably higher compression ratio, a variable-rate, free-flow intake and exhaust system, and the more pronounced willingness to rev, red bests green in terms of power. Maranello rules with 588kW against Sant’Agata’s 566kW, but the tables are turned in terms of torque, with the Lambo mustering 720Nm against the Ferrari’s 718Nm. Both, when dry, weigh 1525kg. So it’s a fairer fight than you’d think.

However, that’s numerically speaking. In reality, while the capacities and cylinder counts are all too similar, there’s a massive difference in character here. Both aim to entice you with distinct strengths and idiosyncrasies, yet are haunted by similar inherent imperfections like exorbitant fuel consumption – although you don’t buy an atmo V12 for economy runs. Also, the magical soundtrack will be music to the ears of anyone pouring over these pages, but it can equally grate with others who don’t care for the combustion cycle.

Although, in working-class Italy, where hoarse diesels and breathless three-cylinders rule, this supercar duo is received with enthusiasm and a sense of national pride. There’s no envy or finger waving at our antics. Being photographed, filmed and followed by curious fans quickly becomes the status quo.

Frustratingly, the two become a hassle on lightly trafficked roads, as those same onlookers are never prepared for a fast-approaching 1154kW (combined) on poorly maintained roads. It’s safer to escape to the hinterland, where traffic disbands and corners outnumber mind-numbing straights.

High in the mountains, it’s finally time to unlock these weapons. In the SVJ, an index finger lifts the red cage door protecting the button that kicks the raging bull into life. In the 812, the starter button is within easy thumb reach on the busy steering wheel. With both angry V12s firing on all cylinders, the sound is immense, enough to send shivers down your spine and induce myriad goosebumps.

The Ferrari engine responds with vigour and settles on a high idle speed for a few seconds, substantiating its status as one of the wildest unassisted V12s in the Prancing Horse stable.

Its four camshafts and 48 valves then begin a relentless jam session. On the other side of the fence, the Lamborghini V12 first needs to remember its firing order before it’s prepared to scream into action. Still searching for the right rhythm, the idle speed eventually manifests itself, noisily clearing its many throats. A brief pull of the right paddle engages first gear, and like clockwork all the stray parts begin to work in unison.

The engine made in Maranello sounds better behaved. It is complex and massive, yet feels light-footed and emphatically urgent. In Auto and Sport modes, the transmission shies away from high revs to the point an Alfa Romeo Giulia Super feels angrier and more committed. In Manual mode, however, the rev symphony heightens gear by gear before reaching an earth-shattering crescendo. When pushed, both cars can be as noisy as the law permits.

Aside from the ensemble, both of these cars are all about the performance figures. The SVJ can accelerate to 100km/h in 2.8sec, 200km/h in 8.6sec and go on to a top speed of 353km/h.

Devoid of all-wheel drive, the 341km/h 812 Superfast loses a tenth to the Aventador to 100km/h, but flips that on its head to be seven-tenths ahead by the 200km/h marker. How come? It’s all due to the Superfast’s rapid-fire seven-speed dual-clutch transmission, which changes gears without losing momentum. Conversely, the Lambo is handicapped by its jerky and slow sequential ISG transmission.

The throttle response of the Rambo-Lambo V12 is instantaneous. It’s like unleashing thunder and lightning. So you better think twice before deactivating ESP because imminent danger is only one unforeseen hazard away if you do. AWD is clearly a help, but it isn’t a saving grace given that the torque split clearly favours the rear wheels.

The locking action of the differential can also be parenthetical, while traction and grip are at times no more than subsets of the multi-layered roadholding capabilities. On slow and winding turf, snap understeer and oversteer are negative traits – and neither comes with an escape button.

The rear-wheel drive 812 encourages its jockey to gallop deeper and deeper into tight bends, while building plenty of momentum results in awesome lateral acceleration. You’re able to stimulate the driven wheels with generous boosts of torque while using the steering and throttle to massage the delicate cornering balance. In third gear, the engine utilises oodles of oomph from one braking zone to the next.

In fourth, short straights are inhaled whole without pausing for breath. In Race mode, full-throttle upshifts are so brutal it almost hurts. Thankfully, the brakes are simply sensational in terms of modularity, performance and stamina.

The two high-flyers hate unfinished or neglected roads. It’s not that the topography needs to be perfectly manicured, but smooth surfaces bode well. While the 812 can soften its dampers at a split-second command, the most extreme Aventador bottoms out, even in Strada mode, until the stability control light flashes. Admittedly the SVJ was never really designed for tight, European backroads.

Conversely, the Superfast feels somewhat less at home on a racetrack. Both cars feel blisteringly fast on flowing country roads or highway blasts where the incredible speed helps you cut through traffic like an invincible alien.

“Life can’t get any better than this,” is the verdict after an insane 20-minute stint in the Lamborghini. It’s utterly spellbinding and draining in equal measures, such is the intensity required behind the wheel.

Jump into the Ferrari and the excitement and exertion levels are at the same high level despite the inherent differences between the two. After 480km, the only quality that sets them apart is about half an acre more cabin space in the Superfast.

The mid-engined and front-engined cars indulge in remarkably different road manners. In extreme, the Ferrari is quick to switch from nose-heavy to tail-happy. Under similar pressure, the Lamborghini is equally hard to work, but a touch faster to react thanks to the boon, and sometimes bane, of AWD.

Drive to the front axle helps, momentarily, pull the car out of trouble and straighten up a ragged line, but the trade-off is added weight and it numbs the steering when entering slow corners too fast, hampering manoeuvrability.


What about the rear steering, which is standard on both these supercars? It’s impossible to detect the transition from synchro-steer to counter-steer, but the virtual extension or shortening effect on the wheelbase is tangible. The turning circles remain relatively large and the dynamic driving modes don’t impact the steering action to the rear.

Cruising on the Autostrada, the Aventador’s venom is never more than a twitch of the right foot away. Overtaking is hilariously easy, the brakes clamp down with vigour at the flick of a switch, while the steering is heavy, yet ultra-direct with many levels of precision.

At speed, the dampers assume the lowest, tautest calibration, and the active aero (ALA) can either increase the downforce or reduce drag above 200km/h. Via invisible motorised flaps, the split ground effects system directs the airflow to the wheels that need the most downward pressure. Air enters the car, primarily through the nose, before it exits through the little ram vents in the rear wing.

The 812 Superfast is emphatically rear-wheel drive. Even on a straight road, in the dry, with the throttle not fully depressed, you know with detail where the 588kW is being sent. While the transaxle layout results in a perfectly balanced weight distribution, there is always enough grunt on tap to alert the tricky electronically controlled mechanical LSD and summon the stability control.

In wet weather or when in Race mode, the eye of the torque hurricane is raging right in front of you. In tricky conditions with the ESC off, the Ferrari needs to be kept on a tight leash. Like its ‘rival’ here, the Superfast is aptly named in regards to normal traffic. It’s too radical for normal roads, too challenging for the rich, unskilled owners who will purchase it, and too vulnerable to qualify as a daily driver.

What sets the two beasts apart more than anything else is the vastly different packaging. If size matters, the SVJ gets instantly hit by a dozen penalty points for burdensome entry and exit, tight racing seats, a pedal box too narrow for size 13 shoes, and a lack of headroom and visibility. Also, the mix of ex-R8 ergonomics and Bologna red-light district instrumentation still doesn’t look right years after the launch.

In contrast to the Lambo’s embryonic driving position, the Ferrari is almost a sportsman suite on big wheels. Even the racing seats accommodate all sizes, legroom is a relief, visibility is impressive, and the iconic Manettino dial drive mode selector tweaks the car’s manners with aplomb in one easy lesson. Dislikes? A front end that is long enough to drop out of sight in dense fog, the fiddly secondary controls and the open arms turning circle.

So, ultimately, given brand cachet and performance are on similar levels, the final assessment is really a matter of interpretation and personal preference. Naturally, a red Ferrari tends to grab all the headlines – and for good reason. But as soon as the matte green rocketship arrives, onlookers are torn between heritage and outlandish design. The inner rhetoric plays a similar tune.

Choosing between these two V12s is as subjective as favouring red wine over white, blonde hair over black, or classical music over pop. The Lamborghini engine marks the ultimate evolution of a legend that is almost as old as the brand. Sadly its use-by date is fast approaching; the 6.5-litre 12 is being cut down in its prime. But it isn’t a curdling mess and the SVJ milks every bit of excitement out of the epic unit. The Ferrari is powered by a more advanced and economical engine, yet as soon as the red mist descends and revs soar, it’s every bit as explosive and resounding as its countryman.

The future of motoring might well turn out to be electric or full of alternative fuels, but right here, right now, we can’t help but turn a blind eye to it all – ignorance is bliss... And if that doesn’t work, for the time being, 24 howling cylinders create enough of a mechanical orchestra to drown out that looming reality. This is as good as it gets.

Simply the best with motor 5 star cars

 

Qué bonita sería esta foto sin el Lambo .. tal que asin

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Buaaaaaaaa.

Me quedaba con cualquiera. Ojalá hicieran más v12 alto giro.

 

No soy yo de estas mandangas , pero ha aparecido en el Feacebook:

Los otros ni se oyen a su lado.

 

Yo los veo complementarios
Empezando porque uno es un GT

Eso si, no tenía ni idea del precio del SVJ, casi 1M$

Mira que me sigue gustando el Aventador, aunque lo prefiero sin alerón, yo que no soy muy de circuitos

 

Justo la mitad. 400 y poco más impuestos.

 

c**o, me quedo más tranquilo
Se le ha debido ir el número al escribir el artículo

 

No es correcto.
Un SVJ Coupe, básico con impuestos en Ex-paña, no llega a 500.000, en concreto, neto, 352.607, el coche que mas ofrece, por ese precio, en la historia de la automoción deportiva.

 

Ya te lo había dicho Nano. Lo anormal es que no se comentan errores en lo artículos y no uno sólo.

 

Uno es un coche para machacar en cualquier terreno de asfalto, incluído carreteras de segunda, aunque no sea su hábitat natural, disfrutando, si que se despeine. El otro es para acelerar en línea recta y autovías, parando cada 30 minutos a respostar. Si es que te estás refiriendo al Bugatti

 

Ostras, si que cambia el cuento!!

 

Bufff... los veo tan diferentes que efectivamente los veo complementarios.

Mi percepción es que el Lamborghini es una obra maestra de la ingeniería creado para batir tiempos y records, radical pero con un "set-up" mucho más técnico. El Ferrari es una obra maestra de la ingeniería... hecho para emocionar, con el V12 delantero y trasera, mucho más difícil de llevar rápido y, aún así; me imagino que más lento por bastante que el lamborghini.

Claro que el lamborghini emociona y el ferrari es rápido, faltaría más; pero cada uno tiene su punto fuerte. Yo diría que el lamborghini es un superdeportivo hecho con la cabeza, y el ferrari es un superdeportivo hecho con el corazón.

Si tuviera que elegir sólo uno, que elegir es de esmayaos; la verdad es que creo que la automoción se vive con el corazón. Pues eso.

 

Estéticamente me quedo con la desfachatez del verde

 

Elegir es de esmayáos. Para mí los dos.

 

No imaginas cuanto. No HAY NADA en el mercado que ofrezca lo que ese coche, por ese precio. Puedes creerme.

 

Los dos para mí.
Verde es un espectáculo.

 

Y el sonido a 500 de 2T no tiene igual, el que las haya oído a 50 metros abriendo gas saliendo de curva sabrá de qué hablo

 

El de las Ducati 4t tampoco te creas que impresionaba menos, madre que las parió.. Te dejaban el tímpano tieso.
Verás cuando @el_letrado le ponga el Metrakit de tubo negro de una Puch minicross a la suya.

Puedo decir que tuve el placer de escuchar las 500 en su último año de vida útil.

 

La 4 T para ti

 

Yo, durante muchos años. El sonido de la estripada a una 500 al salir de curva, era bastante parecido al del Aventador.
Mi misma RD con los Arrow cortos de la copa, con los silenciadores vacíos, hacía dar cada volantazo al personal en los adelantamientos a que veces pensaba que iba a matar a alguien. Otro rollo.

 

Hace unos meses estuve en Tokyo y se paró un Aventador delante nuestro. El sonido no tenía nada qué ver con los otros coches deportivos que había visto/oído.

Una máquina sin comparación por el precio que cuesta.

Un saludo!

 

Completamente de acuerdo. Eso en cuidad, en Strada. En Corsa, por encima de 5.000 es hipnótico.