One of the details in the recent IWC Big Pilot’s Watch Edition Black Carbon that appealed to IWC collectors was the revival of the “fish” crown – an emblem used by the brand from the 1950s to the mid-2000s to indicate a water-resistant watch. In fact, the fish logo is significant enough that it is found not only on the crown of the new Big Pilot, but also in relief on the case back (pictured above).
Fondly remembered by enthusiasts, the discreet “fish” was eventually replaced by the more brand-centric “Probus Scafusia” emblem, one of the official IWC logos. Behind the comeback of the “fish” is a little-known and rather amusing trademark battle that took place in Swiss courts and was reported on last year by FPC Review, a blog specialising in Swiss patent issues.
The IWC fish logo was first registered by Richemont on July 22, 2016, but the Swiss Federal Institute of Intellectual Property (IGE, or sometimes by its French acronym IPI) rejected the registration due to the logo’s resemblance to the ichthys, a fish-like symbol with used in Christianity. The court reasoned that “the commercial use of the sign is likely to violate the religious sentiment of an average Christian”.
Ichthys – derived from ιχθυς, which is Greek for “fish” – is an acrostic that spells out “Iesous Christos, Theou Yios, Soter”, or “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour”. Early Christians in the second and third century AD used the ichthys, essentially a two-line drawing of a fish, as a secret handshake during a period when they were being persecuted by the Roman Empire.
Unlike the cross, the ichthys attracted little suspicion, being a more generic symbol. Despite its simplicity, the ichthys also conveys several other theological themes, including the biblical miracle, “Feeding of the 5,000”, where Jesus is said to have multiplied five loaves and two fishes to feed a crowd a multitude.
The fish crown on an IWC Da Vinci from the 1990s
Fishy meanings
After its registration was rejected by IGE, Richemont appealed to the Federal Administrative Court (FAC), arguing the fish logo “was not perceived by the relevant persons as a religious symbol”. In addition, the sign “is not suitable to hurt the feelings of the affected population”.
In response, the IGE held that the IWC fish logo did not differ significantly from the ichthys. The points of difference, namely the closed and relatively large tail fin, did not significantly alter the overall impression of the logo, as representations of the ichthys in Christianity vary greatly to start with.
IWC’s fish logo vs the ichthys
On December 12, 2018, the FAC reversed the decision made by IGE. The basis for its explanation was simple: it cannot be taken for granted that use of the IWC fish logo on watches will cause offence to members of the Christian religion, especially since those with “extreme sensitivities are not taken into account”
At the same time, the FAC held that the IGE had failed to prove the ichthys was a central symbol in Christianity. In contrast to symbols that were previously denied trademark protection, such as “Madonna”, the ichthys “is not used by name in religious rites and is neither venerated nor worshiped.”
On top of that, the FAC asserted that there are numerous trademarks similar to the ichthys that have been used in commerce without violating religious feelings.
And so Richemont was granted protection for the IWC fish logo, which means we will definitely be seeing more of it on IWC crowns.
Massena Lab was founded by watch industry veteran William Rohr – who is better known by the pseudonym William Massena – in 2018, with the purpose of collaborating with notable independent watchmakers, and perhaps one day make its own watches.
Having made its debut with Habring2 , Massena Lab has just announced the T-Rex Bronze, a 15-piece variant of the quirky MB&F table clock launched last year. Best described as a hand-blown Murano glass eyeball inside a bronze socket with legs, the T-Rex is made by L’Epee 1839, who is also responsible for all of MB&F’s other clocks.
Initial thoughts
The T-Rex is an offbeat, statement piece for the desk, but powered by old-school mechanics – a key-wound, eight-day movement made by L’Epee 1839, a clockmaker founded in, well, 1839. That blend of contemporary creative and classic mechanics makes it cool.
But the Massena Lab edition is a departure from the usual MB&F clock style, which is dominated by metallic silver or black, resulting in a highly mechanical look. The Massena Lab T-Rex replaces the steel of the original version for frosted bronze and “aged” feet, giving the clock a striking, steampunk aesthetic.
Permanent patina
Standing a little under 27 cm high, the T-Rex weighs about 2 kg. According to MB&F founder Maximilian Büsser, the form was inspired by a bipedal Christmas ornament on his desk. Freelance watch designer Maximilian Maertens then created the clock, relying on images of an actual Tyrannosaurus Rex to design the clock’s legs.
The frame and legs are made entirely of bronze, with the legs having been treated by to create a dark brown patina that’s unique to each specimen. A protective layer over the bronze, including the legs, renders the finish permanent, preventing the oxidisation that forms on untreated bronze.
The “face” of the clock is a dome of dark green Murano glass, with a pair of curved hands that stretch over the dome. Right behind is the exposed movement wound via a key that goes into a socket in the back. The same key also sets the time, but via a socket on the axis for the hands.
Key facts and price
MB&F x L’Epée x Massena Lab T-Rex Bronze
Dimensions: 265 mm tall; 258 mm x 178 mm Weight: Approximately 2 kg Material: Bronze with green Murano glass dial
Movement: L’Epée 1839 movement Functions: Hours and minutes Frequency: 18,000 beats per hour (2.5 Hz) Winding: Key-wound Power reserve: 8 days
Limited edition: 15 pieces Availability: Direct from Massena Lab, or at Hodinkee and Watches of Switzerland Price: US$27,000
With Baselworld 2020 cancelled and then some, Patek Philippe has been progressively rolling out its new launches, including a trio of “Grand Complications” in mid July (and hints of a brand-new complication at the end of the year).
All three new complications are variants of existing models, with the crowd favourite being the Ref. 5370P-011 Split-Seconds Chronograph. The new ref. 5370P-011 has a blue grand feu enamel dial and replaces the original, black-dial model that made its debut in 2015 as the ref. 5370P-001.
The ref. 5370P-011
The cal. CHR 29-535 PS
Initial thoughts
The only thing new about this version of the ref. 5370 versus the first-generation model is the colour of the enamel dial. So everything that was good about the original model (classical design, dial and case quality, movement aesthetics), remain good. Needless to say, so do the weaknesses (mismatched finish on seconds hand, details of movement decoration).
The balance assembly
Though not a dress watch, the original ref. 5370 was dressed in black-tie colours of black and silver that gave it a stately bearing, but also a slightly old-fashioned feel. With the enamel dial in blue – it’s a gentle, muted blue – the new ref. 5370 looks more modern and casual, which is a good thing if you’re looking for something less formal.
The outside
Though a large 41 mm in diameter, the case of the ref. 5370 reproduces the proportions of the ref. 1436, a split-seconds chronograph that was in production from 1938 to about 1970.
Like Patek Philippe’s better known chronograph watches of the period, namely the ref. 130 and 1518, the ref. 1436 split-seconds had strikingly wide lugs that were long and fairly narrow. The ref. 5370 captures that look well – and it is a very good look – though it does look a bit big on the wrist.
And in typical Patek Philippe style, the ref. 5370 case channels the spirit of the original while having various modern upgrades, in construction naturally, but also with subtle flourishes on the case flanks.
The sides of the case are recessed and linearly brushed, with a raised lip around the perimeter that’s polished. It’s so neatly done the case appears to be a multi-part sandwich, but it is actually a single piece that’s artfully finish. And the end of each lug is capped with a cabochon that is pressed into the case side, permanently fixing it in place like a rivet.
Because the case middle is one piece – the recessed portion and perimeter are not separate pieces – finishing the sides is a challenge. First the recess is smoothened with a file, and then brushed with a small rotary polisher like a dentist might use. The final step sees the brushed surface refined by hand with a sanding stick, essentially a small stick of soft and mildly-abrasive wood like that used for the final polishing of movement parts.
Besides the case flanks, also note the relaxed bevel on the edges of the chronograph button
A diamond at six indicates the case is platinum
The finishing on the sides gives the case an elegant profile, especially when combined with the concave bezel and back that almost mirror each other. But the ref. 5370 is a thick watch, standing a little over 13.5 mm high.
Combined with its 41 mm diameter, the result is a watch that feels very much like a high-end modern complication, like a Lange or a smaller Greubel Forsey. So it is big and reassuringly weighty – it feels expensive – though the elegance of a vintage original is clearly lost.
Though it is large, the dial is elegant, well proportioned, and beautifully appointed.
Executed to a high standard, the dial is a disc of 18k gold covered in glossy vitreous enamel, while the numerals and hands are 18k gold and the markings appear to be printed enamel.
The enamel is unusual in being very smooth and almost uniform in colour, unlike older fired enamel dials that tend to have imperfections on the surface and within. Only the faintest of colour variation are visible when examined up close, and the surface is also exceptionally smooth, indicating it was probably carefully polished to a high gloss after firing.
As on many other contemporary Patek Philippe watches, the logo is a little too big
“Email” is French for “enamel”
I would, however, have liked some minor elements done differently. For instance, the hour and minute hands are filled with Super-Luminova, but the dial has none, which feels like a bit of a mismatch. And both split-seconds hands as well as the sub-dial hands are identical respectively – differentiating them from each other would have been a useful detail.
Lastly, the pair of split-seconds hands have a fine frosted finish that matches neither the other hands nor the numerals. This is common across all Patek Philippe chronographs, and most probably due to the delicate nature of the hands, which means they cannot be mirror polished and instead require a gentler, blasted finish.
The hands reflect on the glass-like surface of the dial
The hands on the registers have a pleasing, rounded profile and bevelled centres
The applied numerals are delicately shaped
And inside
The movement inside is the CHR 29‑535 PS, which is a variant of the CH 29 found in the ref. 5270 and ref. 5172. Like Patek Philippe’s other movements, the CHR 29 boasts several innovations, many extremely small, that prioritise reliability and thinness.
The CHR 29 is a technically accomplished calibre that features many thoughtful details. Amongst other things, the movement has an instantaneous 30-minute counter, a roller-and-cam mechanism to align the two seconds hands, and more robust isolator mechanism for the split-seconds that prevents “drag” when it’s running.
And it also has a one-piece clutch lever – a feature Patek Philippe has instilled in its chronograph movements since the very beginning – that provides more consistency of engagement for the chronograph.
The one-piece clutch lever (lower right) with one end that resembles a bird’s head
The Gyromax balance wheel with adjustable masses
Even the longstanding feature of Geneva-made chronograph movements – the steel cap on the column wheel that historically prevented the clutch from disengaging upon impact – has been given a secondary purpose as a means to adjust the meshing of the clutch with the teeth of the column wheel.
The polished steel disc sits on the column wheel
As far as traditionally-constructed split-seconds chronographs go, the CHR 29 is probably the most advanced. But some of the grace found in older movements is lost.
It has an extremely complex appearance, with numerous snaking levers, but much of the styling feels modern and a bit too aggressive. The bridge for the split-seconds, for instance, has a sharp-cornered outline that allows for well-defined bevelling, but giving it a shape that resembles a weapon.
A closeup of the split-seconds bridge
Patek Philippe is sometimes criticised for the movement finishing – and the decoration on the most basic models is arguably lacking – but the high-end movements are finely and appropriately treated.
The decoration of the CHR 29 is clearly better than the finishing on the base-model ref. 5172 chronograph and other simpler watches. The finishing is excellent in a restrained and consistent manner that was no doubt done with a little help from machines and then refined by hand.
The bevels of the bridges and chronograph levers are mirror polished and do not betray any machining marks, unlike the movements in more basic watches. Examining the chronograph mechanism reveals a high level of finish, even the sharply-pointed tips of levers.
Even though the finishing is not as artisanal as say Voutilainen or Atelier de Chronometrie, the movement is more advanced, so it is arguably more balanced in terms of decoration and technology.
Concluding thoughts
The ref. 5370 is an attractive watch that is impressively made, albeit a little big. The look evokes enough of Patek Philippe’s historical watches to be considered classical, while incorporating modern elements to make it a little more, well, modern. Though niggling details like the matte split-seconds hands aren’t quite right, the overall look and feel works well.
In terms of technical quality it is also passes the test. The movement finishing is good, while the construction is better.
And the colour – I did originally prefer the black dial, I can see why the blue dial has more appeal, especially for someone who already owns a bunch of watches with black dials.
Lastly there’s the price. The ref. 5370P is more expensive than the competition by a wide margin, so it isn’t great value. But factor in the brand, which has tremendous value, and it is decent value, and also probably one of the most compelling watches priced below US$250,000 in the Patek Philippe line up.
Key Facts and Price
Patek Philippe Split-Seconds Chronograph
Ref. 5370P-011
Diameter: 41 mm Height: 13.56 mm Material: Platinum Crystal: Sapphire Water resistance: 30 m
Movement: CHR 29-535 PS Functions: Hours, minutes, seconds, and split-seconds chronograph Winding: Manual wind Frequency: 28,800 beats per hour (4 Hz) Power reserve: 65 hours
Strap: Alligator leather
Availability: Now at boutiques and authorised retailers Price: 232,000 Swiss francs
Not long after Tudor unveiled the Black Bay Fifty-Eight Navy Blue – a well priced and solid albeit slightly predictable launch – the brand quietly announced something more surprising – the Tudor Royal.
Initially available only in four Asian markets, but now available worldwide starting November 2020, the Royal revives a model name last used several decades ago and applies it to an affordable watch with an integrated bracelet that has a retro, 1970s feel.
Initial thoughts
The Royal successfully combines various elements from past Tudor watches, with the exception of the dial, which looks a bit uninspired.
The integrated bracelet and case brings to mind models of the 1970s, like the Tudor Ranger for instance, while the alternating fluted-and-polished bezel has been used on various models, including the fairly recent Tudor Classic. But the dial is plain, though it was likely designed to appeal to an audience that wants an obviously classical dial with Roman numerals.
I would have liked it with a more modern dial, but nevertheless the value proposition is clear. For someone who wants a solid watch that doesn’t look like a diving instrument, the Royal is an excellent buy.
With the base model priced a bit over US$2,000, the Royal is – like nearly all Tudor watches – excellent value for money given the high level of fit and finish of the external parts, which are likely the best in the price range. The movements inside are either Sellita or ETA calibres, which are not as sophisticated as Tudor’s proprietary movements, but for the price that’s entirely fair.
Integrated bracelet
Tudor describes this as a “sport-chic” watch, which is accurate enough, as the case has a screw-down crown and 100 m depth rating.
Available in four sizes – 41, 38, 34, and 28 mm – the case is available in steel or two-tone steel and 18k yellow gold, with the same integrated bracelet that’s five links across. And the bezel is different take on the traditional fluted bezel found on Tudor (and Rolex) watches, with the fluting alternating with polished sections.
Several dial styles are available, including diamond hour markers and mother of pearl, but all share the same design characterised by baton hands and applied Roman numerals. But only the 41 mm model is offered with the day-date function.
41 mm (pair on the left), and 38 mm
The 28 mm model with a mother-of-pearl dial and diamond markers
The larger versions are all powered by Sellita movements, while the the smallest 28 mm model is equipped with the ETA 2671. The movements share similar features and construction, including a relatively short 38-hour power reserve, which is probably the most weakness of the watch. In contrast, Tudor’s in-house movements boast a 70-hour power reserve, meaning you can remove the watch for the weekend and still have it running on Monday.
Diameter: 41, 38, 34, and 28 mm Thickness: Unavailable Material: Stainless steel, 18k yellow gold Crystal: Sapphire Water resistance: 100 m
Movement: 41 mm – T603 (Sellita SW240); 38 and 34 mm – T601 (Sellita SW200); 28 mm – T201 (ETA 2671) Functions: Hours, minutes and seconds; and day or date on larger models Winding: Automatic Frequency: 28,800 beats per hour (4 Hz) Power reserve: 38 hours
Strap: Integrated metal bracelet
Availability: Now at boutiques and authorised retailers in China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Philippines; and then worldwide from November 2020 Price: From CHF2,200 for the 41 mm in steel, to CHF3,750 for the 38 mm in steel and gold with diamond indices
One of the most established newer brands in the sports watch space, Linde Werdelin was founded 14 years ago and made its name with mechanical watches featuring a removable digital module with dedicated functions for activities like diving and climbing.
Now entirely focused on purely mechanical watches, the brand’s latest is a dive watch with an unusual complication – the limited-edition Oktopus MoonLite. Based on the existing Oktopus Moon, the MoonLite is distinguished by the case material, which is made of Alloy Linde Werdelin.
Initial thoughts
The Oktopus MoonLite is very much in the usual Linde Werdelin style, which is a futuristic, aggressive look that brings to mind watches like the Grand Seiko SBGA405 Godzilla 65th Anniversary and Audemars Piguet Royal Oak Concept. Though large at 44 mm wide, the watch will no doubt be light thanks to the case material. And the color of the case goes exceptionally well with that of the dial, which results in an avant-garde watch that is also the most legible of the Oktopus Moon models to date.
Priced at a little over US$14,000 – quite a lot of money for what it is – the Oktopus MoonLite perhaps justifiably priced considering the limited production and proprietary case material. Nonetheless, the bold styling and “indie” status of Linde Werdelin make the MoonLite an unusual proposition – an oversized, contemporary sports watch from an independent brand, which will appeal to collectors who enjoy luxury-sports watches but want something off the beaten path.
Alloy Linde Werdelin
The case of the Oktopus MoonLite is in the brand’s signature form, a tonneau-shape characterised by heavily-faceted surfaces and an integrated strap. Linde Werdelin has gone a step beyond aesthetics and fashioned the case out of Alloy Linde Werdelin (AWL). Notably, the MoonLite is only Linde Werdelin’s third model with the case in AWL.
An alloy of aluminium and zirconium typically used for aerospace applications, AWL is twice as hard as steel yet half the weight of titanium according to Linde Werdelin, which also has exclusive use of the material in watchmaking. Additionally, the material has been treated to give it a hardened surface, most probably with a chemical process to create a ceramic oxide layer on top, giving it improved scratch resistance.
Ceramic bezel and integrated strap design of the Line Werdelin MoonLite
The AWL case is topped with a bezel in black ceramic. Notably, the bezel is fixed, so even though the Oktopus MoonLite is water resistant to 300 m, it does not qualify as an ISO 6425 dive watch for lack of a rotating dive bezel.
The dial has a complex, layered look, with the evacuated layers rendered in shades of grey. The look, though austere, is in keeping with the industrial feel of the watch.
At six o’clock is the moon phase display: a disc featuring photorealistic depictions of the moon over the course of the month, with the current phase of the moon is indicated by a small blue zero. All of the moons, as well as the hands, are painted in Super-Luminova that glows green in the dark, while the hour markers glow blue.
MoonLite lume shot
As with the earlier Oktopus Moon models, the Oktopus MoonLite is powered by a customised ETA automatic with an added moon phase function.
Key Facts and Price
Oktopus MoonLite
Diameter: 44 mm Height: 15 mm Material: Alloy Linde Werdelin Water resistance: 300 m
Movement: ETA base with added moon phase complication Functions: Hours, minutes, seconds, and moonphase Frequency: 28,800 beats per hour (4 Hz) Winding: Automatic Power reserve: 42 hours
Strap: Interchangeable rubber strap with titanium pin buckle
Limited edition: 59 pieces
Availability: Only on Linde Werdelin’s online store Price: £11,000; or US$14,177
Correction July 28, 2020: The price is US$14,177 and not US$16,000 as stated in an earlier version of the article. Also, Linde Werdelin no longer produces detachable digital modules for its watches.
Vacheron Constantin is staging an exhibition in Singapore dedicated to its sports watches spanning the 20th century history.
Best known for the Overseas sports watch, now in its third generation, Vacheron Constantin has curated a compact selection of six timepieces illustrating the development of the sports timekeeper.
An 1998 magazine advertisement for the first-generation Overseas
The exhibition starts with watches from the 1940s, including a chronometer pocket watch in the style of military deck watches. But the highlight, at least from a design perspective, is the 222, the brand’s first luxury-sports watch.
Designed by Jorg Hysek, the 222 made its debut in 1977, the year of the brand’s 222th anniversary. Featuring a notched bezel and integrated bracelet, it was very much in the style of the decade.
The 222 line up
The watches are on display at the brand’s boutique at the Marina Bay Sands casino-resort, which is also marking its 10th anniversary.
Exhibition information
The Origin of Vacheron Constantin Sports Elegance In Watchmaking July 13 to August 24, 2020
Vacheron Constantin Marina Bay Sands Boutique
2 Bayfront Avenue #B2M-238
Singapore 018972
Opening Hours: 11:30 am to 8:00 pm, Monday to Sunday
Grand Seiko Studio Shizukuishi officially opened on July 20, a milestone in its independence as a standalone watch brand. Having been spun off from Seiko in 2017, Grand Seiko now has its own workshop, just beside the Seiko Instruments Incorporated (SII) facility where it was once located.
“The Nature of Time”
Grand Seiko recruited Kengo Kuma, the noted Japanese architect behind Tokyo’s National Stadium built for the 2020 Olympics and the interior of Grand Seiko’s Paris boutique, for its new workshop. The Grand Seiko Studio Shizukuishi was conceived to embody the brand’s ideology, “The Nature of Time”, with the structure coexisting with the surrounding landscape, while utilising natural materials.
A material “greener” than conventional construction materials, wood is used for the structural elements and flooring of the clean room. “To balance natural materials with the room’s high technology technical requirements was a new and intriguing task,” noted Mr Kuma in the announcement. The result is one that sharply contrasts with the typical production workshop that is clinical-looking.
In addition to the natural materials used in its construction, the studio is also operated with sustainability in mind. For instance, carbon dioxide emissions are monitored and minimised, while wastewater is recycled. At the same time, the company is working to preserve biodiversity in its local area, including by erecting and maintaining bird and squirrel houses.
Grand Seiko Studio Shizukuishi was also designed for experiential encounters with the brand’s watchmaking. The studio includes exhibition and event spaces, as well as the Studio Seminar Room, where visitors can get a hands-on experience assembling a Grand Seiko movement.
Notably, the second level includes a lounge offering a view of Mount Iwate and a showcase for an upcoming concept watch that “will reveal the full extent of the ingenuity and skill of every one of Grand Seiko’s specialists, from designers to technicians”.
The studio is not yet open to the public, but will be once the COVID-19 pandemic comes to an end. When that happens, factory visits can be arranged online.
The studio edition
The inauguration of Grand Seiko Studio Shizukuishi is accompanied by a commemorative edition, the Grand Seiko Studio Shizukuishi Hi-Beat 36000 SBGH283. As with editions made for the previous Grand Seiko workshop within the SII factory, the SBGH283 is is available for purchase only at the studio. Consequently, it is a limited edition with limited production and availability, but not a strictly fixed production run.
Featuring the high-frequency movement in a 44GS-style case, the SBGH283 is steel and 40 mm in diameter. It’s worth pointing out that the movement is the 9S85, instead of the newly-introduced 9SA5 featuring Grand Seiko’s patented new escapement.
As is typical for Grand Seiko limited editions, the dial is the highlight – finished in a deep emerald tone with vertical stripes, a motif meant to evoke the greenery visible through the windows of the studio. Clean and linear, the pattern is more classical than more common, radially-striated “Iwate” finish.
Aside from the dial, the rotor is also unique to the studio edition. It’s gilded and engraved with the “Shizukuishi”, but unlike earlier workshop-only editions that featured Japanese text, the engraving is in English.
While no doubt to cater to Grand Seiko’s increasingly international audience, the English engraving is incongruous, since a special edition available only at the home of Grand Seiko should be as local as possible. Nonetheless, the SBGH283 is a beautiful watch, and is one that I like very much.
W&W Shanghai will see only 11 brands take part, down from 30 at the Geneva event. The exhibiting brands are A. Lange & Söhne, Baume & Mercier, Cartier, IWC Schaffhausen, Jaeger-LeCoultre, Panerai, Piaget, Roger Dubuis, and Vacheron Constantin – all owned by Swiss luxury group Richemont – as well as independently-owned brands Parmigiani Fleurier and Purnell.
Like the original fair in Geneva, the Shanghai event will be invite-only, and will include new product launches, talks, as well as watchmaking classes. Alongside the physical exhibition in Shanghai, W&W will also unveil the new products on its website.
With the Chinese watch market now in the midst of a sharp upturn post-pandemic – evidenced in the results of both Richemont and the Swatch Group – China is likely the single largest national market for luxury watches that is operating close to normal, making the migration of the event from Geneva to Shanghai eminently logical.
One of Longines’ longest-lived vintage remakes, the Type A-7 was inspired by a 1930s aviator’s chronograph made for the US Army Air Corps. Having been offered with a white dial, and also a bronze-case limited edition, the Avigation Watch Type A-7 1935 now makes its debut in a guise closest to the vintage original.
Initial thoughts
The earlier version of the Type A-7 was already a likeable watch. Affordably priced and well designed, the Type A-7 managed to much convey the look of the original without being a one-for-one remake. And in contrast to the first-generation remake that was 49 mm in diameter – essentially the same size as the vintage original – the Type A-7 was a wearable 41 mm. But the faux-vintage “lume” was a bit much, and the white lacquer finish of the dial took away some of the military-instrument aesthetic.
The Type A-7 with a white dial that was introduced in 2016
The new Type A-7 remedies all of that with a black dial and less-pronounced colour for the Super-Luminova. Though it still has a date window that gets in the way of the design, the new Type A-7 still works well and remains a strong value buy.
The vintage original had a dial rotated 40 degrees from the vertical, in order to allow pilots to read the time or operate the chronograph without taking their hands off the control yoke. This has becoming a defining feature of the watch, along with the single button for the chronograph that’s co-axial with the crown.
The vintage Type A-7 in the Longines Museum
A negative image of the US Army specification for the Type A-7, which was also supplied by Meylan and Gallet
In the modern Type A-7, all of that has been reproduced, albeit in a smaller, 41 mm case in polished steel. The dial is a flat black with large Arabic numerals and cathedral hands.
Under the snap-on case back is the L7882. movement, which is actually an ETA A08.L11. It’s part of ETA’s Valgranges family of extra-large movements derived from the Valjoux 7750. But the A08.L11 has been substantially upgraded over the 7750, with a mono-pusher mechanism and a column wheel replacing the standard cam.
Key facts and price
Longines Avigation Watch Type A-7 1935 Ref. L2.812.4.53.2
Case diameter: 41 mm Height: Unavailable Material: Stainless steel Crystal: Sapphire Water resistance: 30 m
Movement: L788.2 (ETA A08.L11) Functions: Hours, minutes, seconds, and chronograph Frequency: 28,800 beats per hour (4 Hz) Winding: Automatic Power reserve: 54 hours
Strap: Alligator with pin buckle
Availability: From Longines boutiques and retailers; delivery date to be determined Price: US$3,450; or S$5,170
One of the most indelible scenes from Modern Times, the 1936 Charlie Chaplin film about the dreary life of an oppressed factory worker in Depression-era America, has Chaplin’s character strapped to a contraption that feeds him automatically, leaving his hands free to continue working on the assembly line below the dining platform.
In the film, the scientists behind the feeding machine market it to the factory owner as “a practical device which automatically feeds your men while at work. Don’t stop for lunch: be ahead of your competitor. The Billows Feeding Machine will eliminate the lunch hour, increase your production, and decrease your overhead.”
The “Billows Feeding Machine” in Modern Times
While Modern Times was a caricature of a factory worker’s life, the film contains much truth, especially in how it illustrated the burgeoning preoccupation with time during the Industrial Revolution. An era marked by drastic shifts in culture, economics, politics, and technology, the Industrial Revolution was also characterised by an evolution in how time was perceived.
Propelled by the needs of industry, time as a concept became synonymous with profit. Eventually growing to permeate all levels of society and industry, this time consciousness had a profound impact on the world that continues today.
A landscape of factories
Predominantly agrarian and rural societies were transformed during the Industrial Revolution, becoming industrialised and urbanised. This started in Britain in the second half of the 18th century, before spreading to other parts of Europe and North America.
With the proliferation of new manufacturing technologies such as the power loom and the steam engine – perhaps the defining machines of the Industrial Revolution – labour became increasingly mechanised. Industrial output soared as factories steadily expanded in ever-larger cities. This pushed down the prices of manufactured goods, such as textiles and food, which were once made by hand.
Farmers and homeworkers in the countryside could not compete with the lower prices, leading to rural unemployment. That resulted in mass migration from the countryside to cities in the subsequent decades, as rural dwellers sought better opportunities.
Edmund Cartwright’s power loom invented in 1784. Image: History Crunch
With increased automation, and the resulting specialisation as well as mechanisation of labour, most rural migrants to the cities toiled as unskilled labourers, performing tedious and monotonous tasks in massive factories. Long working hours – often 12 to 16 hours a day, six days a week – and extremely low wages were often the norm.
It wasn’t just adults who toiled away in factories. Child labour was particularly rampant, with children as young as five years old being put to work. Often working in dangerous conditions, child workers were nonetheless paid a fraction of what adults earned.
And after a long day in a factory, workers went home to appalling conditions. As urban populations grew in tandem with factories, the result was overpopulation, leading to dilapidated and unsanitary living conditions.
Child labourers during the Industrial Revolution Image: Lewis Hine/The U.S. National Archives
That created a visual landscape of the Industrial Revolution that endures – even today the era conjures up images of bleak urban landscapes with sprawling factories and countless chimneys constantly spewing black smoke, with sooty-faced factory workers toiling below.
However, as much as these were physical and environmental changes that changed the world, they were merely a stage in the evolution of the modern city. But a more enduring psychological phenomenon was also taking place amongst the people who lived and worked in early industrial cities – the changing perception of time.
Factory smokestacks in the Industrial Revolution Image: Bettmann/Corbis
Time orientation
Agrarian societies were the dominant form of organising mankind before the onset of industrialisation. In such pre-industrial societies, people had a disregard for clock time – an artificial construct – and regarded time as synonymous with nature.
People planted, harvested, and went about their days according to natural temporal cycles like the seasons, days, or tides. In fact, clock time in some societies was actually based on natural cycles. In pre-industrial Japan, for instance, life was governed by seasonal time, with days that varied with the season and indicated on seasonal-time clocks known as wadokei.
This notion of time was put forward by British historian E.P. Thompson in his seminal 1967 paper, Time, Work-Discipline and Industrial Capitalism. Thompson labelled it “task-orientation”, where time was based on natural cycles, so a workday would be between sunrise and sunset, rather than between 9:00 am and 5:00 pm.
And work was based on completing the task at hand. As a result, there was little distinction between work and leisure, as social interactions often intermingled with work, while the length of the workday varied depending on the tasks of the day.
Potato Planters by Jean-François Millet. Image: Museum of Fine Arts Boston
But the Industrial Revolution transformed the perception of time from task- to time-oriented. Now time was “not passed but spent” wrote Thompson, becoming a measurable resource that the employers could harness and expend to maximise output.
As a result, once abstract units of clock time, such as the hours and minutes, became embedded amongst the minds of factory workers who were selling their labour, measured in units of hours, every long working day. And employers unsurprisingly enforced time discipline, while punctuality became a virtue.
The transformation in time perception influenced not only industry, but also biological functions. In stark contrast to task-oriented societies, people in time-oriented society ate and slept not because of hunger or tiredness, but because the clock dictated it was mealtime or bedtime.
Industrial factory workers. Image: History Crunch
Obsessed with time
With wasted time being forgone potential output, factory owners developed an obsession with time. Contemporary accounts exist of factory owners who deliberately tampered with the clocks in their factories to slow them down, and thus gain more hours – and output – from their workers. Other employers hid the clocks altogether.
James Myles, writing in his 1850 autobiography, Chapters in the Life of a Dundee Factory Boy, recalled his “masters and managers did with us as they liked. The clocks at the factories were often put forward in the morning and back at night”.
More amusing was the existence of the knocker-upper profession that developed in Britain in the 19th century. As most workers had neither alarm clocks nor watches, they hired knocker-uppers to wake them up. The trade was widespread enough in the 1800s that Charles Dickens mentions being “knocked up”, or awoken, in Great Expectations.
Knocker-uppers would use a baton to knock on doors, or a longer stick to tap on bedroom windows. Some developed more ingenious means of waking the workers like Mary Smith, an East London knocker-upper, who used pea shooters to rouse her clients.
Once reliable mechanical timekeeping became cheap and commonplace, such primitive methods were dispensed with. Though knocker-uppers disappeared by the early decades of the 20th century, they persisted until the 1970s in a handful of industrial areas in northern England.
Knocker-upper using a long pole to wake up clients who lived on upper floors. Image: J. Gaiger/Topical Press Agency/Getty Images
Mary Smith using a pea shooter to wake her clients. Image: The Image Works
The proliferation of mechanical timekeeping had another consequence, giving employers a new way to track attendance and punctuality, especially in the United States, where the time clock was invented around 1890 by Willard Le Grand Bundy, a New York jeweller whose namesake time clock company would later become part of IBM.
A mechanical device that would stamp the date and time on a time card carried by each worker, the time clock became the gatekeeper to the factory, with each employee required to punch in and punch out. Routine inspections of time cards were conducted by employers, with penalties like wage cuts for being absent or late.
Ford Motor Company workers punching their time cards at the time clock. Image: Getty Images
Perhaps the man who most embodied the industrial preoccupation with time was American engineer Frederick Winslow Taylor. Active during the zenith of America’s Industrial Revolution in the mid-19th century, Taylor dedicated his life to improving industrial efficiency.
Frederick Winslow Taylor
Taylor detailed his numerous methods for optimising production in his influential book, The Principles of Scientific Management. He is perhaps most famous for the time and motion study, where he scrutinised how a particular task was completed by breaking it down into small, discrete actions. This allowed Taylor to identify inefficient actions, and eliminate wasted time.
Sometimes criticised for dehumanising workers by treating them as mere cogs in a machine, Taylor’s rigorous approach to maximising output is influential across industries long after his death. Taylorism even shaped Toyota’s vaunted Toyota Production System.
A time engineer timing and evaluating equipment. Image: How Scientific Management is Applied
Possessing time
Timekeeping was paramount in determining the lives of workers, but also crucial for transportation. Much of the success of the Industrial Revolution depended on the efficient, countrywide freight networks that delivered raw materials to factories or finished products to markets.
First in Britain and then the United States, railroads played the central element role in this network, Sophisticated and complex transportation schedules were developed to meet the demands of factory owners, who desired near-perfect synchronisation of labour and raw materials. All of that coordination across national borders, state lines, and time zones, necessitated reliable timekeeping devices.
Housatonic Railroad, 1881 Image: Railroad History Archive
In the first few decades of the Industrial Revolution in Britain, prices of pocket watches and clocks remained out of reach for the average factory worker. Instead, portable timekeepers were mostly owned by factory owners and capitalists, who used them as instruments for business, but also as status symbols.
Especially prestigious were keyless pocket watches – a new invention in 1842 by Jean-Adrien Philippe, who later became a partner in Patek Philippe. His keyless winding mechanism allowed the watch to be wound via the crown and stem, dispensing with the traditional key. Such watches were known as “stemwinders”, a nickname that eventually came to describe outstanding people or objects, and later on, rousing oratory.
The allure of owning a pocket watch meant there were factory workers who stretched their meagre resources to obtain one, or splurged when they landed an unexpected windfall.
Pocket watches thus became an important asset for members of the working class who were able to own one. E.P. Thompson, in Time, Work-Discipline and Industrial Capitalism, wrote “the timepiece was the poor man’s bank, an investment of savings: it could, in bad times, be sold or put in hock”.
Some factory workers used watches as a means to reshape power relation between employer and employee, since a worker who owned a pocket watch would be able to contest the dishonest manipulation of production-floor clocks by the factory owner.
The movement and front of a Patek Philippe observatory tourbillon pocket watch that was sold in 1934, perhaps to a very successful industrialist
The democratisation of time
But as with all manufactured goods, clocks and pocket watches eventually became more affordable as a result of mass production, particularly in the United States during the 19th century.
Regarded as the father of the clockmaking industry in America, Eli Terry pioneered mass production of standardised wooden clock components that were interchangeable from one movement to another around 1800. Soon after, he set up a water-powered clock factory in New England, staffed by a large workforce that produced substantial numbers of clocks and components.
Another milestone in American watch manufacturing came in 1850, when Aaron Dennison, Edward Howard, and David Davis, in a bid to mass produce pocket watches, set up what would become the Waltham Watch Company. The task would prove more difficult than mass producing clocks, as watch movement components were far smaller with more unforgiving tolerances.
Nevertheless, having developed new machines and techniques, the company’s cumulative output totalled 14,000 pocket watches by 1858 according to Timepieces: Masterpieces of Chronometry by David Christianson. Exponential growth followed: by 1865, Waltham had produced some 180,000 pocket watches. The company enjoyed enough economies of scale that its watches were affordable for the average American worker.
Inside the American Waltham Watch Company factory in the late 1800s. Image: Digital Commonwealth
Split-seconds chronograph pocket watch from American Waltham Watch Company, circa 1886. Image: Christie’s
In 1896, another American company, Ingersoll, introduced the Yankee pocket watch. Priced at only US$1, or approximately US$28 today, the Yankee was the cheapest pocket watch on the market and sold with the slogan: “The watch that made the dollar famous”. Like all other “dollar watches” of the era, the Yankee was powered by a cheaply-made but functional movement made up of stamped parts, a pin lever or Roskopf escapement, and no jewels.
American mass-production techniques came to be copied by manufacturers elsewhere, including in Switzerland. In fact, American methods were the rationale behind the foundation of IWC. Though now very much a Swiss brand, the International Watch Company (IWC) was founded in 1868 by an American, Florentine Ariosto Jones, whose plan was to establish an enterprise “combining all the excellence of the American system of mechanism with the more skillful hand labor of the Swiss”.
Eventually, cheap yet reliable timepieces could be found in most waistcoats or trousers, regardless of the wearer’s wealth. More workers possessing a watch allowed for greater industrial synchronisation. The importance of the timekeeper was summed up by American historian Lewis Mumford in his 1934 book Technics and Civilization, where he wrote that “the clock, not the steam engine, is the key machine of the modern industrial age.”
An advert for the Yankee watch. Image: Jay Paull/Getty Images
Modern-day implications
The Industrial Revolution laid the foundations for contemporary, developed societies that are driven by capitalism and anchored to a time consciousness and discipline that continues to prevail today.
The cliche “time is money” still rings true, and many workers, including highly-paid, white-collar professionals, continue to be remunerated on an hourly basis. And while the methods have changed, the power relations between the owners of capital and workers remain the same. The mechanical time clock has been transformed into software that monitors worker activity or biometric scanners that track employees coming and going.
Rush hour in Tokyo, Japan. Image: Chris 73/Wikimedia
Awareness of time is now ingrained, since it is impossible to escape the omnipresence of time that is now displayed everywhere – clocks, watches, and phones, or even microwaves and cars. Society is now governed by schedules and timetables, with workers often struggling to meet deadlines.
These distilled notions of time spurred by the Industrial Revolution demonstrate that even though time itself is grounded in the unchanging laws of physics, it is also very much an inescapable social construct.
