TenTen Issue 4

10 BULGARI How a fifth record-breaking Octo Finissimo reinvented the chronograph

10

MASTER OF MATERIALS

RADO.COM

RADO CAPTAIN COOK INSPIRED BY OUR VINTAGE ORIGINAL. SERIOUSLY IRRESISTIBLE.

Editor-In-Chief Dan Crowe Creative Director Astrid Stavro (Pentagram) Editor Alex Doak Deputy Editor George Upton Photography Director Max Ferguson Sub-Editor Kerry Crowe Words Alex Doak, Laura Mccreddie-Doak, Jo Lawson-Tancred photography

Julian Anderson, Andy Barter, Robin Broadbent, Leon Chew, Alexander Kent, Benjamin Mcmahon cover photography

Bulgari Octo Finissimo

By Robin Broadbent Cartier Santos-Dumont by Leon Chew publishers

Dan Crowe, Matt Willey associate publisher

Andrew Chidgey-Nakazono advertising director

Andrew Chidgey-Nakazono andrew@port-magazine.com contact

Port Magazine Vault 4 Somerset House London, wc2r 1la +44 (0)20 3119 3077 port-magazine.com

Who would have thought that, in attempting to physically embody and mark out something as ethereal as time, the tiny wristwatch could touch on such a vast array of human experience, and distil such a mix of human endeavour?

It’s this rather grand idea that we’re addressing for this, Port’s fourth annual dissection of all things timekeeping and watchmaking.

Tiny it may be, but the savoir-faire, skills and design nous that come to bear on a mechanical watch beggar belief, and, believe me, absolutely justify their luxury status. There are no less than 35 individual crafts required to actually make a watch from raw metal, with new ones being invented all the time since the advent of silicon and carbon micro-tech.

But that’s before you weigh up the sensitivity required of a designer to bring something fresh to what essentially must be a circle with three hands.

As you’ll discover later on, it’s a challenge that’s attracting more and more talent from far beyond the sleepy valleys of Switzerland’s Jura Mountains.

And then there are the end users: the pilots, the Himalayan mountaineers, the America’s Cup sailors, the pilots, the deep-sea divers…

Even Savile Row-suited city slickers need a reliable timekeeper for when the markets open.

Stylish, precise, hardwearing – all these things offer the potential for that tiny wristwatch to be the thing you own, wear and cherish the longest.

Always repairable and never obsolete, ready equipped for whatever lies in wait with the next generation.

We hope, over the next 80 pages, you enjoy seeing how some of this magic happens.

Alex Doak Editor

illustration: paul davis

Editor’s Letter

Contents Breaking the Mould

Ex Helvetica

Full Ceramic Jacket

The Working Week

The Rolex Rainbow

The Seal’s the Deal

Hot to Trot Words: Alex Doak Photography: Julian Anderson

Coal Face

Timeline 1969

Six Eyes on the Prize Words: Laura McCreddie-Doak and Alex Doak

High Craft

Winding up the Mountain Path

Words: Alex Doak Photography: Alexander Kent

The Old Master and the Sea

Flights of Fancy Words: Alex Doak Photography: Leon Chew

Animal Instinct Words: Jo Lawson-Tancred Photography: Benjamin Mcmahon

Slim Tickings

Hard Graft

Words: Alex Doak Photography: Robin Broadbent

Photography: Andy Barter

A Motel Stay, for a Piaget

When you’ve been making watches for as long as we have, some things just come naturally.

Big Crown ProPilot X Calibre 115

ORIS BOUTIQUE LONDON 41 South Molton Street London W1K 5RP

Full Ceramic Jacket Bell & Ross looks beyond cockpit instrumentation with its latest top-flight timepiece, inspired by the us air force’s groundbreaking icon of pilot apparel, the ma-1 bomber jacket

Like Bell & Ross’s no-nonsense military-spec watches, the ma-1 flight jacket answered a critical brief in a highly functional way – and just like Bell & Ross’s urbanite fanbase, it too has become a fashion staple along the way.

The widespread adoption of jetengined planes during the Cold War meant that missions were flown at everhigher altitudes, and were therefore much colder (in the literal sense). Streamlining, and an explosion in avionics, meant that cockpits were more cramped: The pilots’ bulky shearling-lined leather jackets of old, liable to freeze rigid in flight, needed to be upgraded fast.

Nylon came to the rescue, which was appropriate as, up to that point, nearly all production of the newfangled polyamide fibre had been devoted to parachutes and parachute cords during wwii . Come the 1950s, the us air force’s quartermasters could finally harness its lightweight, tough and water-resistant characteristics.

Insulated by polyester and trimmed with elasticated wool collar and cuffs, the ma-1 was made reversible, so that its bright orange lining could serve as a wearable beacon when a downed pilot was waiting for Search and Rescue. In combination with its pinched-in ‘blouson’ profile, this also meant the ma-1 went on to serve as a beacon of style in its own right, especially among the punks and skinheads of the ’70s, and then again in the ’80s by style bibles i-d and The Face.

The synergies with Bell & Ross’s 999piece br 03-92 ma1 limited edition start, of course, with the watch’s own jacket – not full metal, but rather lightweight and scratchproof ceramic; its khaki colouration is foiled by the watch’s own urgent-orange lining, glowing through stencilled-out numerals, highly visible on night flights.

There’s orange lining to the khaki nylon strap too, reversible just like the jacket to suit whatever mood takes you (hopefully not including ‘marooned’).

The Working Week Patek Philippe unanimously won 2019’s Baselword trade extravaganza, with a deceptively simple Calatrava of five-handed function and free-handed font

Perpetual? Complete? Annual? Like everything else in fine horology, Patek Philippe has mastered every calendar function going (inventing the latter in the first place, back in 1996). So how has it taken this long to create the watch you’re looking at now: a gorgeous complete, not only displaying the day, date and month, but also the week – a bit of numerical info usually restricted to the worlds of accountants and diary publishers. …Probably because the week is the, dare we say, least romantic measure of time – despite its visceral hold on our working lives. While the dance of the heavens gave us natural concepts like days and years, with the moon’s phases giving us the month, there is no natural reason for a sevenday week other than the fact the ancient Babylonians were formidable astronomers to whom the number seven held mystic significance. Hence naming the days after the sun, moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus and Saturn.

The Calatrava Ref. 5212 a -001 Weekly Calendar celebrates the fact with deceptive simplicity (it takes serious micro-engineering to Russian-doll so many differently geared axes on one central point). But take a closer look at the typography…

Created explicitly for this watch, the text is based on the handwriting of one of Patek’s own staff from the design team; its letters and numbers are totally unique and personal. Carefully printed in black, it’s a poetic flourish recalling a time when so many of us kept paper journals – which, of course, were always ‘week to view’.

Coal Face Modern watchmaking’s frontier is rock-hard carbon, in more cuttingedge guises than ever

1 2 3 1 The case of the new Skeleton X Magma from Ulysse Nardin manages to fuse red resin with carbon – a composite dubbed ‘Carbonium’.

2 A watchmaker inspects a ticking balance assembly, at TAG Heuer’s cutting-edge facility in La Chauxde-Fonds.

3 Facing page TAG Heuer’s carbon composite hairspring oscillates at 4hz with perfectly concentric compression and expansion.

As featured in TenTen previously, Switzerland’s watchmakers have been striving to keep their potentially anachronistic craft fit for the 21st century by harnessing carbon in all its forms: fibre sheet, forged fibre, even its ‘bucky ball’ nanotube and graphene allotropes.

So where are we in 2019? As it transpires, carbon is now being combined with other lightweight, tough materials (titanium, ceramic), and even machined into microscopically intricate working parts, rather than just the surrounding case or dial.

Supplied to Ulysse Nardin by new French start-up Lavoisier Composites, Carbonium is a spectacular new take on carbon fibre, and between 40 and 50 per cent more eco-friendly, as Lavoisier sources 95 per cent of its raw materials from aeronautical offcuts. Fusing twothirds carbon fibre and one-third epoxy glue under high pressure yields a marbled substrate with a beguiling, almost iridescent sheen. In scarlet ‘Magma’ – the open-worked movement itself spiked with high-tech silicon components – Ulysse Nardin’s Skeleton X couldn’t look more dramatic.

Meanwhile, TAG Heuer stunned everyone earlier this year with a carbon balance spring, ticking inside its new Autavia driver’s watches. Stunning because, in a single blow, it dismisses the previously held belief that the hair’s-width spiral oscillating at the heart of every mechanical

watch could only be made in alloy or, as with Ulysse Nardin, silicon. At its factory in La Chaux-de-Fonds, the TAG Heuer Institute is cooking up wafers of hairsprings – 300 at a time – using a pair of chemical reactors that fuse clusters of nanotubes with amorphous carbon. The result is totally antimagnetic (unlike metal alloy) and shock resistant (unlike brittle silicon).

According to TAG’s resident genius, Guy Sémon, “less than 10 per cent” of what is possible in watchmaking has been tapped over the past few centuries. What arises from his self-titled “combination of mathematics and cooking”, over the next decade alone, looks to be mind-boggling.

5 4 1

3 2

1 Asymmetric and outrageously lavish, the Patek Philippe ‘Ricochet’ from the pen of jewellery designer Gilbert Albert, who died in October, aged 90.

2 An unusually ritzy, not to mention asymmetric Rolex of 1961, from the pen of Swiss legend Gérald Genta.

Breaking the Mould A lavish new book by Sotheby’s watch veteran, Alex Barter is all you need to understand how, with the dawn of the 20th century, the watch began to evolve at breakneck speed. Halfway through, a funkadelic design upheaval established once and for all that telling the time had become only part of the story – as our exclusive extract reveals

During the late 1950s and into the 1960s, there was a reaction among some designers against the classical watch shapes that had been established during the previous two decades. One of the most influential figures in this area was a young jewellery designer named Gilbert Albert. In 1955, at the age of 24, Albert was spotted by Henri Stern, the president of Patek Philippe.

Albert designed a range of asymmetrically shaped watches that began to appear at the very end of the 1950s, before being more widely available throughout much of the 1960s. These watches would defy convention, and through them Albert offered a fresh approach to watch design, one that was inspired by his love of modern sculpture, especially works by Constantin Brancusi and Piet Mondrian. The asymmetric watches that Albert produced included both pocket and wrist versions. The dials of the watches were kept simple, usually with slim baton indexes, often crossing the dials in a spider’s web design.

Although unusually shaped, the clean lines of the asymmetric forms that Albert created fitted perfectly with the 1960s aesthetic for clear, uncluttered design. In 1962 this aesthetic was taken a step further by Rolex with the introduction of a new model named the Midas. Also asymmetrically shaped, this model was designed by another jewellery designer, Gérald Genta, as a homage to the mythological figure of King Midas [see sidebar].

3 An outrageously futuristic Patek Philippe ref. 3270 designed

by Gilbert Albert in 1962.

4 Another off-beat Gilbert design for Patek, the ref. 3424 of 1961.

5 Monsieur Genta himself, visionary father of so many enduring modern classics.

Genta’s inspiration came from the architecture of ancient Greece and, specifically, the temple of the Parthenon.

Genta took the sharp lines of a square form, adding a peak to the left side, where the winder was partly concealed from view.

An integrated bracelet was fitted to match the asymmetry of the watch’s case – the bracelet had a straight side to the right and tapering side to the left, the left side following the line to the case’s peak. The dial was almost entirely plain, with no numerals or calibrations.

Released in 1967, the Cartier Crash wristwatch went further into abstraction with an asymmetric case of surrealist appearance. Popular legend dictates that the model was influenced by a badly distorted Cartier wristwatch that had been damaged during an accident and which had been taken to Cartier in London for repair.

It is interesting that, despite the highly accurate and refined movements incorporated in all these watches, the ability to use them to tell the exact time was seemingly of secondary importance.

With a lack of calibrations for minutes and in some instances without hour indexes, the precise reading of time was by no means easy. Design had been given the ultimate precedence, for, with these watches, function was forced to follow form.

The Watch: A Twentieth-Century Style History

by Alexander Barter is out now, published by Prestel, £45, prestelpublishing.randomhouse.de

doctor octagon

The genius behind the iconic lines of the Royal Oak and Nautilus (plus the Rolex Midas pictured below) gets longoverdue institutionalisation this year

A household name for the watch community, but little-recognised beyond, Gérald Genta’s cultural legacy is finally getting the recognition it deserves.

His eponymous new Heritage Association, founded in tribute to the Italo-Swiss designer who passed away in 2011 at the age of 80, is chaired by his wife Evelyne Genta, who currently serves as the ambassador for Monaco’s Embassy in London.

Its primary aim is to support the promising next generation of watch designers with an awards programme, as well as properly archive his vast body of work – work that embraces a Who’s Who of watchmaking, which peaked with his trio of ’70s masterpieces, which invented the very notion of a luxury steel sports watch: Audemars Piguet’s Royal Oak, Patek Philippe’s Nautilus and iwc’s Ingénieur sl. All octagonal, all with integrated bracelets and all still in production.

Not only that, but as a fulfillment of Ms Genta’s pledge to her late husband, a business platform will be created to realise some of his 4,000 completed watch designs, which she still owns.

Given that the ‘Gérald Genta’ brand is still owned by Bulgari, who purchased his highcomplications business in 1999, the new watches “may be carried out” with Bulgari’s parent group, lvmh. If we can take anything from his extraordinary career, they won’t be what you expect.

The Rolex Rainbow The legendary gmt- Master may have been built for jet-age globetrotters, but it went on to span the colour spectrum as well as the international date line

1970 (aka ‘Root Beer’) With its suitably lurid ’70s combo of brown and yellow, gmt Master ref. 1675 earned a famous customer in Clint Eastwood, explaining the Root Beer’s other nickname, ‘Dirty Harry’.

1955 (aka ‘Pepsi’) The original and favourite colour combo, the Plexiglas bezel’s blue sector denotes night hours while red is day.

1982 (aka ‘Coca-Cola’) Now in red-and-black, a new movement was introduced that allowed the hour hand to be set independently of the other hands, earning a suffixed ‘11’.

2005 Come 2005 and the gmt-Master’s 50th anniversary, a major upgrade: Rolex replaced the aluminium bezel with its high-tech in-house ceramic, or Cerachrom.

One sunny day in Washington dc in 1884, the International Meridian Conference decided to chop Earth into 24 segments, each running an hour ahead of its westerly neighbour. It was about time, so to speak.

The rise of global telecommunications and long-distance travel meant we all needed to be on the same page, whether to phone each other at the right time, or avoid trains crashing.

With zero-hour Greenwich Mean Time duly anchored to the leafy south London suburb, the great and the good threw themselves, whether by Pullman carriage or Cunard cabin, into newfangled

2013 (aka ‘Batman’) How to achieve a twocolour combination on a single-piece ceramic component with such a discrete split? Metal salts and Rolex’s own brand of alchemy.

intercontinental travel. Unsurprisingly, by the ’30s their accompanying wristwatches started featuring elaborate world-timer complications – telling the time in Calcutta or Rio de Janeiro with romantic enamel dials. But once jet travel became the norm, in the ’50s, something more business-like was needed – especially by the airline pilots, who just needed a dual-time display: a fixed gmt reference, with a local-time display to adjust with every hop.

As with the waterproof watch, the self-winding watch, the watch with date function – you name it – one watchmaker was there first: Rolex, with its gmt-Master

2018 (aka tbc) Nickname suggestions still being taken here – efforts thwarted since ‘Black and Tan’ was an infamous British force in the Irish War of Independence.

of 1955. Local-time display as usual, plus a secondary, arrow-tipped gmt or ‘home time’ hand read from the bezel’s 24-hour scale. The bezel also rotated, should you want to set a third time reference. A simple set-up that earned instant endorsement from Pan Am’s long-haul pilots, and which has barely changed since.

What’s changed the most, and kept Rolex collectors champing at the bit, is the bezel’s day/night colour-coding.

First rendered in blue (night) and red (day), earning the immortal ‘Pepsi’ nickname, the combos have been constantly switched up, earning plenty more monikers besides.

The Seal’s the Deal The normal hallmarks of haute horlogerie just aren’t good enough for Patek Philippe – it has its own standards of handcraftsmanship

When Patek Philippe launched its ‘Patek Philippe Seal’ – its own in-house standard mark – in 2009, the universal reaction to this renewed vow of precision and quality was little more than a slow, sage nod. After all, weren’t Patek and Philippe already bywords – the last words, even – for Swiss watchmaking at its finest? Auction record after smashed auction record, and escalating demand in the face of global recession, both seemed to indicate as much.

While neighbouring manufactures, such as Roger Dubuis and Vacheron Constantin, do well by the stringent guidelines set out by the ‘Poinçon de Genève’ – not to

1 2

1 Patek Philippe’s most complex movement contains a dazzling 1,366 parts, operating 20 ‘complications’ and 5 chiming modes.

2 Teeth that perfectly mesh aren’t enough – even workhorse geartrain wheels in brass need the Patek Philippe treatment

mention the many brands who fine-tune their movements to chronometer standard precision (still only three per cent of Swiss production) – Patek, typically, consider both hallmarks far too lenient, taking it upon themselves to set the horological bar even higher.

Turning things up to the proverbial 11, every Patek Philippe watch meets an evermore demanding set of rules governing variance in precision, the painstaking hand-polish of its mechanical components’ edges, the angle of said polish, how the chamfering itself is executed, the decoration of surfaces, the use of precious metals…

Timeline 1969 Half a century ago, in the space of a single year, seismic shifts were felt in all things nautical, technological and cultural.

But while Concorde took to the skies for the first time, man landed on the moon and a certain Canadian rock legend bought his first real six-string, all things horological were undergoing an upheaval of their own 2nd march

20th july

The British Overseas Airways Corporation’s legendary feat of engineering, Concorde, takes to the skies for the first time – celebrated by British watchmaker Bremont, whose suitably streamlined limited edition in ice-white ’70s livery incorporates metal from one of the 20 planes that carried passengers across the Atlantic, 11 miles up, at twice the speed of sound from 1976 to 2003.

Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin set foot on the moon for the first time. Having been “Flight-Qualified by nasa for All Manned Space Missions” since 1964, it’s Omega’s Speedmaster chronograph that’s Velcro-strapped around Aldrin’s spacesuit.

Still mechanical, still hand-wound, the Speedie remains standard-issue nasa kit to this day – celebrated this year by the Apollo 11 limited edition in Moonshine Gold.

3rd march

15th august

Jack Heuer announces the results of Project 99 – a secretive joint effort with Breitling and America’s Hamilton to develop their own self-winding chronograph. The Calibre 11 – which despite having a bolted-on chronograph module was kept slim by embedding the winding rotor flush with the base mechanics – was brought to market by summer (pipping Zenith to the post by some months) in TAG Heuer’s legendary square-cased Monaco model. Back in 2019, a golden-anniversary collectors’ series was of course on the cards, and, true to form, a five-part revival of Monaco’s classics over the decades has been a sepia-tinged delight throughout the year.

Over 400,000 free-living young people gather at White Lake, New York State, 43 miles southwest of a small town called Woodstock; Jimi Hendrix reimagines ‘Stars and Stripes’ on his Stratocaster, and music is never the same again.

10th january

Zenith is the first out of the 1969 traps, announcing El Primero – the first self-winding stopwatch wristwatch, or chronograph; nothing short of every watchmaker’s holy grail up until then, as the mass of a winding rotor on an existing manual movement was too bulky. Zenith’s slim integrated works – barely tweaked since – also manage to up the ticking frequency from four hertz to a super-precise five, allowing timing intervals of a 10th, rather than the usual eighth, of a second.

Needless to say, 2019’s revival of the launch model, the a384 (not, it should be added, named after the trunk road linking Totnes with Buckfastleigh in Devon), has proved catnip to collectors. Exploded El Primero movement pictured left.

29th october

An unintentionally portentous message is sent electronically from ucla to Stanford Uni on the West Coast: “lo”. Actually a truncated version of “login”, it was the birth of what we now know as the Internet.

Four decades later, the mobile-connected smartwatch has proved a wild success for Apple and many others, but thankfully not as much of a threat to Switzerland as 1969’s closing curveball…

25th december

Like Indiana Jones snatching his fedora as the door slid down on 1969, Japanese mega-brand Seiko chose Christmas Day to launch something that changed everything in watchmaking: the Astron – nothing less than the first-ever quartz-crystal-regulated battery wristwatch. The ensuing ‘quartz crisis’, waged by a flood of cheap East Asian tickers, went on to (temporarily) devastate the traditional Swiss industry.

Up until Gérald Genta started ripping up the rulebook in the ’70s with the likes of Audemars Piguet and Patek Philippe, the role of ‘watch designer’ simply wasn’t a thing – and it showed (nearly every Swiss brand leads a sheltered life in the Jura Mountains, after all). Today, with the fashionable now as much into watches as the collectors, designers themselves are looking beyond the valleys to collaborate with, or simply pay tribute to, the visual artists whose values influence their work. Less ornate, less shouldered by the past, with added zest and surprising simplicity, our three examples beg the collective question: what took them so long?

POLYCHROMY PARROT Three of nine colours selected from Le Corbusier’s palette of 63, rendered perfectly by Rado’s in-house ceramic alchemists, Comadur.

In the horological design stakes, it must be said, Rado has little to prove. Since setting out its stall in the ’60s as a pioneer of cutting-edge materials, the Swiss watchmaker has designed its lightweight and scratchproof cases in concomitantly sci-fi fashion. The breakthrough DiaStar, in ovoid tungsten-carbide, looked fit for the bridge of the Starship Enterprise; while the gleaming Ceramica model secured the services of none other than Jasper Morrison, a decade ago.

Ceramica has been Rado’s tour de force since the ’80s, in progressively slimmer, tougher and nigh-on alchemical iterations.

Hublot, and even Chanel’s Swiss atelier, have made admirable strides of their own, but how Rado manages to render porcelain granules, in such ethereal shades, to such precise tolerances, at 900 degrees centigrade is anyone’s guess. Hats off, then, for switching its gaze to the past to inspire the next move – more specifically, to Les Couleurs Suisse, which holds the licence for Le Corbusier’s ‘Architectural Polychromy’.

It consists of a palette comprising 63 complementary shades, which the Swissborn, mid-century polymath upheld would work in any combination, transforming how an interior space is perceived.

Of these, Rado has chosen just nine for its True Thinline Les Couleurs Le Corbusier collection of ultra-slim watches, each limited to 999 pieces and each a challenge in its own right, given that the colours had to match the architect’s swatch precisely.

It was so much of a challenge, in fact, that Rado’s ceo Matthias Breschan admits the decade-long process of fine-tuning each ceramic shade means his team “now all dream in colour”.

MOTION SENSOR Homer Simpson once berated daughter Lisa for inventing a perpetual-motion machine, bellowing, “In this house, we obey by the laws of physics!” Which pretty much disqualifies Jaeger-LeCoultre’s Atmos from the Simpsons’ mantelpiece.

Made since the 1920s and still the official gift of the Swiss Confederation, the mechanism will run and run without ever needing a re-wind. It comes down to a bellows-style aneroid chamber, which – unlike a barometer’s vacuumed aneroid – contains ethyl chrloride gas. With tiny changes in atmospheric temperature (hence the name), the aneroid’s expansion and contraction winds the mainspring; just one degree centigrade warmer or cooler and the clock runs for another two days.

The Atmos clock is a fascinating thing, with a lifelong fan in London-based Aussie, Marc Newson – the luxury world’s go-to design collaborator (see Qantas firstclass cabin; Louis Vuitton; Hennessy xo), Apple Watch visionary (alongside close friend Jony Ive), and general living legend.

Having dabbled in wristwatches with Ikepod in the ’90s, his current dalliance with horological royalty (‘Atmos 568’) encases Jaeger’s carriage clock in a single rounded cube of Baccarat blown crystal, designed in Newson’s trademark bubble style to emphasise the clock’s ethereal mode of action.

BAU WOW Like fellow countryman Nomos Glashütte, Junghans’ Max Bill collection is defined by the minimalist modernity of Germany’s Bauhaus. The titular Herr Bill, a protégée of the influential design school’s founder Walter Gropius, designed an alarm clock for Junghans back in 1956, its crisp dial sashaying into wristwatch form come the ’60s.

Now, celebrating Bauhaus’s 100th anniversary, the 100 Jahre special edition works in a handful of knowing, but subtle nods: a prime-red date display, contrasted by a case and strap in grey coating emulating the concrete cladding of the school building in Weimar.

1 2 3 1 Facing page Design hero Marc Newson, responsible for Ikepod watches, Apple watches and now JaegerLeCoultre clocks.

2 An early kitchen clock made by Junghans in the Black Forest, designed

by Max Bill.

3 In typically Bauhaus fashion, Max Bill’s early work for Junghans brought modernist beauty to quotidian utility, plus some natty colour pops.

How has Ini Archibong managed to fuse his laconic, la style with the equestrian whimsies of Montres Hermès?

A lot of lakeside walks. Words by Alex Doak Photography by Julian Anderson

As the immediately preceding pages demonstrate, Switzerland’s watchmakers are getting better at looking beyond their loupes. The polymath worlds of industrial design, architecture and modern art are all coming to bear on the humble wristwatch.

So when it comes to Hermès – the saddler, silk-scarf maker and all-round merchant of luxurious flights of fancy – you could imagine its Swiss-watch outpost being more adventurous than most.

In fact, the new stirrup-shaped Le Galop arose from Hermès’ watchmakers in Neuchâtel reaching out to a globally renowned design maven, based in… Neuchâtel.

The truth is, he may be based in the capital of Swiss watchmaking’s canton, of the same name, perched on the somnolent shores of Lac Neuchâtel, but Ini Archibong could be considered anything but ‘Neuchâtel’. No offence to the town’s cool kids (many of whom happen to be watchmakers), but his bohemian edge makes him more likely to collaborate on Flying Lotus’s next ep, than the latest must-have accessory on the polo circuit.

Born to two Nigerian academics and raised in Los Angeles, the 36-year-old did indeed run with the burgeoning la Beat scene, establishing a would-be collective before switching to design.

“It was all around at the time. Anderson Paak was still recording as Breezy Lovejoy; I used to record in the same studio as Nipsey Hussle; Kamasi Washington and Kendrick Lamar were taking off…

“So why did I move to Neuchâtel?”

Archibong ponders in his sing-song West Coast drawl. “Serendipity I guess. It was the summer of 2017 when I was looking to move from Basel. I had my first meeting with Montres Hermès who are based there; I stood by the lake and thought, ‘Wow, this is beautiful.’”

He already had some miles under his belt. After persuading an la architect’s practice to take a chance on him, and having been forced to move back in with his folks when the music didn’t work out, Archibong completed a bachelor’s degree in New York, followed by a prestigious master’s at École cantonale d’art in Switzerland’s Lausanne

(ecal), with the express desire to get

a project with Hermès – one of many top-flight design institutions that work with the university. ecal took him into the realms of high-end lighting and furniture design, “Invading the spaces” of his own architecture, in his words.

Demand from the equestrian world’s finest saddler was what it took to make the latest move (but by no means final, one senses), along the southern foothills of the Jura. Has it helped with the challenge of designing a wristwatch? Has the challenge itself affected his design process?

“My design process is never necessarily different – it’s the same no matter what.

First I try to tap into the brand; to discover something deeper than the solution alone: an emotional or spiritual value that benefits the consumer beyond the product’s utility.

“Then I start collecting ingredients.

Powered by a Swissmade precision quartz movement, and assembled at Montres d’Hermès’ workshop in Neuchâtel, Le Galop’s asymmetrically curved steel case has been likened to the torso of a thoroughbred horse, as well as a stirrup. £2,850

At this stage I have no idea what the end result is going to be. A sketch might be the first thing I show a client, but 90 per cent of the work I’ve done beforehand is in my head. After pacing, walking by the lake, listening to music, pacing some more… the idea begins to form.”

Archibong then gets to business: for over a year, in this case, which is generally what it takes to arrive at something resembling a successful luxury watch.

An interview with the New York Times in June describes him spending six hours with the company historian on one occasion. “I saw all the stirrups that Emile Hermès collected, and that’s when the stew started cooking.”

For laidback Archibong, being a newcomer to Hermès, let alone watchmaking in general, was probably a help rather than a hindrance. Especially when his original passion still comes to bear so significantly.

“I make music while I design,” he explains, “the two influence each other in parallel. My studio ‘cockpit’ consists of two computer screens for my design work, but also a sampler, mixing desk, turntable, sequencer, a drum machine directly in front of me, a vintage teac audio mixer...

“But the music is just for me nowadays.”

Pursuing such a mix of creative disciplines surely helps, too. The music may help his process, but at Montres Hermès something as unobtrusive as

the numerals font is as important as the rest of the watch, demanding a whole other skillset.

“I was especially fortunate that ecal is big on typography. I met Vincent Sauvaire there, who approached me when I started on Le Galop. He works in a very traditional, classically trained manner, which helped while I was coming up with crazy numerals like the 8 and 4 – where I wanted to echo the silhouettes of hardware like buckles and stirrups.”

You have to squint to notice the quirky 4 and 8, but Archibong’s fastidious approach to such minutiae embeds a lifetime of satisfying Easter eggs for Le Galop owners – signalling, also, a marked shift from his days of draughting an entire building.

“Every time I move down in scale, it increases my physical sensitivity,” he says. “A watch is the most personal thing, it lives on your skin – unlike architecture, for example. But since Le Galop, I’ve now started thinking about how a building actually feels on the skin – its touchpoints; the details you experience.

“As an architect you start out sketching these monumental shapes, but then you start invading its spaces with things – interiors, apertures, the furniture within them, thinking about how ergonomic it is. Before long, you’re talking glassware or door knobs.

“And now a watch.”

Chanel j12 The unisex j12 is back!

(Not that it ever went away.) The almost-20year-old brainchild of Chanel’s late, great creative director, Jacques Helleu, the house’s new watch guru Arnaud Chastaingt has smoothed things out and added self-winding mechanics from Tudor.

36 £4,675

36

Ticking behind the paper-thin dial of every fine timepiece you’ll find centuries of heritage and unparalleled know-how, embodied in micro-mechanical form.

When it’s time to make the cut, you’ll rarely go wrong – but here are some we chose earlier. Words by Alex Doak Photography by Alexander Kent

Caption copy harchicius dolores tiorescidel ipsae quodiore volorio receatem.

A Lange & Söhne Lange 1 Moonphase Whisper it, but Germany’s venerable A Lange & Söhne can be found in the same heady echelons as Switzerland’s grande dame Patek Philippe.

Since its rebirth, following the fall of the Berlin Wall, the trajectory of Lange’s technical prowess has beggared belief – a prime example being this lunar-display take on the Lange 1. £36,800

Patek Philippe Annual Calendar Regulator Speaking of Patek Philippe‌ Rereleased this year in rose gold, this take on ye olde regulator clocks separates the hour, minute and second hands into their own subdials, so the time can be read precisely without any one obscuring the other. £39,680

Cartier Tank Cintré Stretched and elegantly arched to embrace 46 millimetres of your wrist, Cartier’s Jazz Age classic of 1924 evolved the Tank’s relatively unassuming rectangle (itself inspired by the footprint of the titular wwi vehicle), and cemented Cartier’s reputation as master of the form watch. £17,700

Vacheron Constantin Patrimony ManualWinding Midnight Blue The watch world of 2019 seemed to be nothing but a rainbow of various shades of blue. But for all your cyans, cerulean, cobalts, azures, petrols and even diesels, it was Vacheron Constantin and its adventures in midnight blue that had us all starstruck.

Here, framed in pink gold, a gentle camber only lends to the dial’s expansiveness. £17,000

Jaeger-LeCoultre Reverso Tribute Duoface The art deco Reverso might be dramatically different in shape and metal to the Vacheron, but the allure of its azure dial simply confirms the colour’s failsafe sartorial flattery – even when you consider its flippable case’s original purpose, protecting the dial during polo matches. £9,350

Paris’s pioneering Santos is taking to the skies once again, more streamlined than ever, more ‘Cartier’ than ever.

Words by Alex Doak. Photography by Leon Chew

Smooth as a pebble and (almost) lighter than air, ‘Santos-Dumont’ somehow manages to take Cartier’s square icon into even suaver territory, capped with the house’s signature blue-gem ‘cabochon’.

When the Eiffel Tower was built as the gateway to the 1889 World’s Fair, it was met with derision from the finest architectural, aesthetic and engineering minds of the time.

At the very least they could take solace from the fact that it was a temporary construction.

But oh how prejudices turn on a franc.

By 1904, Paris’s grande maison of fine jewellery was fondly alluding to its local totem of belle époque industrialism with a timepiece that answered the specific necessities of Alberto Santos-Dumont – a pioneering aviator who famously (controversially, even) flew precariously close to la tour.

Among other luminaries, such as Jules Verne and Gustave Eiffel himself, Louis Cartier counted the Brazilian bon vivant as a friend on Paris’s social scene. This magnificent man wanted a watch to read, hands free, in his flying machines, and by God Cartier gave him one.

The practicality of a wristwatch over a pocket watch was the easy bit – this being a Cartier creation, and not only that, a creation for such a peacock, Louis could hardly resist adding a healthy dose of élan to the mix.

From the rounded square bezel to its eight exposed screws and gently flowing ‘shoulders’, both inspired by the neoindustrialism of the Eiffel Tower, the design of the Santos de Cartier was so coherently distinctive from the outset that in the 114 years since, the only changes have been

sympathetic tweaks and twists. The aesthetic dna remains as iconic as the Porsche 911 or

Coca-Cola bottle.

Last year’s revival came 40 years after Santos’s last big overhaul, when the exposed screwhead motif was flowed through the length of its bracelet. It was then, as well, that steel with gold was made the norm, for back in 1978 Santos was being teed up as the luxury watch of the ’80s. It even made it beneath the flappy French cuffs of Wall Street’s Gordon Gekko, in yellow gold on yellow gold – first seen in the film as he yells, “they don’t know preferred stock from livestock!”

Last year, as you’d expect, the tweaks were subtler. Ergonomics and sleeker lines soften the squareness, planting the watch more sinuously across your wrist. What’s more, Santos de Cartier’s leather straps are instantly interchangeable with a bracelet, thanks to a QuickSwitch clasp system three years in development. And, in a first for the Santos, you’ll find Cartier’s in-house automatic movement, the 1847mc, ticking beneath the bonnet.

So far, so 2018. For 2019, though?

Resisting the temptation to tumble from the wagon and revisit its pre-crash Santos 100 exercise in oversize, Cartier has in fact paid another visit to the cosmetic surgeon. Now nipped and tucked where previously thought un-nippable and un-tuckable, the classic lines of the Santos are still immediately there with the Santos-Dumont, just without any of the fuss.

Think of it as a late tribute to the magnificent man himself and his lesser known beginnings in flight. Alberto Santos-Dumont is one of the very few early aviators not only to have made a significant contribution to the development of heavierthan-air aircraft, but also lighter-than-air aircraft too. His flights of fancy aboard self-designed hot-air balloons and dirigibles even culminated in his winning the Deutsch de la Meurthe prize in 1901, for a flight that circled the Eiffel Tower.

Plotting their inherently serene trajectory, lighter-than-air craft surely demand a smoother, calmer timing instrument – and sure enough, Cartier’s Santos-Dumont is the perfect foil to the petrol-propelled Santos de Cartier. There are Roman numerals for a start, plus the brand’s classic, knurled cabochon-set crown (sans beefy shoulders) and a softer bezel, whose 12 o’clock and 6 o’clock remain soberly straight, resisting the temptation to flow into the strap.

In full rose gold, on slate-grey alligator leather, the top-end Santos-Dumont featured here is a woozy Parisian evening in watch form: pink skies setting behind zinc rooftops. Cartier at its poetic best.

Sure, you don’t need a new watch; no one does, if we’re being honest. But when it ticks this many boxes, it’s hard to say no.

ANIMAL INSTINCT

Getting up close and personal with the enfant terrible of the art world, and Hublot creative partner, Richard Orlinski.

Words by Jo Lawson-Tancred Photography by Benjamin Mcmahon

In a video shared to his YouTube channel in late September, the French artist Richard Orlinski can be seen standing beside his life-size, bright-red prowling tiger as it is leapt on and played with by real live lions. Filmed at the Black JaguarWhite Tiger Foundation in Mexico, the exciting encounter between wild animal and resin replica brings Orlinski’s art to life and, from a distance, only the cats’ pale colours completely distinguish them from the artist’s manmade but equally agile and animated work. Orlinski has produced sculptures of pin-up girls, high heels and unbuttoned jeans, but is best known for portraying majestic wild animals, including sharks, snakes, lions, horses and elephants. All these belong to his trademark Born Wild©️ collection, a concept which, he explains, “questions the paradoxical essence of animals,” that they are “ferocious and powerful, but also symbols of freedom and tenderness”.

Monochromatic and often monumental, Orlinski’s sculptures borrow from the natural world a frenetic, almost feral energy and enhance it through curiously artificial means, such as vivid colours and faceted, sharply angled surfaces. The result is an undomesticated, brute essence that we instantly associate with wild animals but often feel distanced from ourselves. Orlinski’s suggestion seems to be that we could reclaim some of that spirit, and so some of his bestknown works feature a powerfully anthropomorphic gorilla baring his teeth and beating his chest, or raising an oil barrel above his head with a violent, coursing vitality. What is the driving force behind such works? “I look at human nature, contemporary society, and the transformation of a primordial instinct into a civilised emotion.”

Orlinski makes it clear that the work is an emancipating, if somewhat macho, expression of his own life’s journey. “At school I would create small terracotta animals. I was only 4 years old when my teacher asked a local tv station to come and see my little sculptures.” Despite this early interest in art, Orlinski felt the pressure to pursue a more steady job in property, and in his 2017 biography he writes: “My life resembled a box which one seeks to escape in vain.” It wasn’t until he was 37 that, overnight, as he tells it, he left, “took [his] own path… and made [his] name as a recognised artist”.

The switch felt like Orlinski’s calling, but he soon found himself contending with another conformist establishment, in the art world. “I am not an insider. I remember going to dinners where i hardly dared to say what i was doing,” he says. Ever since, his philosophy has been to promote the democratisation of art, and he uses public places and unusual settings to present

2

1 1

2

Hublot’s pillarbox-red Aerofusion Chronograph Orlinski Red Ceramic (£19,900) is arguably the most vivid recreation of Richard Orlinski’s faceted pop-art sculpture.

Tumbling the ticking balance assembly over and over every minute, the Hublot Tourbillon Power Reserve 5 Days Orlinski King Gold (£83,000) is not only a work of art, but a technical tour de force.

1

2 1

2

Not only do Orlinski’s signature contours fuse viscerally with Hublot’s own signature case shape, but the bridge array of the tourbillon edition also gets a stunning refresh courtesy of the French artist’s angular approach.

When you go down to Orlinski’s gallery at 106 New Bond Street, you’re sure of a big surprise. And a sensory overload.

his work to ever-larger audiences. One example is the American Film Festival in Deauville, where, in 2005, he debuted his first sculpture, ‘Orlinski Wild Crocodile’. A ferocious, growling reptile, Orlinski exclaims in awe that: “It’s been on Earth for 200 million years. It is a witness of mankind.”

In more recent years Orlinski has exhibited towering statues of gorillas, wolves, bears and dinosaurs on the ski slopes of Courchevel, Cannes Film Festival and this year’s Grand Prix. The glamorous, and quintessentially French, locations have allowed the works to be seen and photographed in open air, offering them more of a spotlight than a gallery ever could. “I don’t like art being reserved for an elite. People don’t have to open the door of a museum, the museum comes to them!” The strategy has drawn comparisons to pop art, although Orlinski is wary of being labelled a 21st-century Warhol. “I feel free to do what I like. I don’t really like to justify the role of an artist, a work or a movement.”

The lack of limitations he feels extends to other artforms. As a dj he has produced electronic music, appearing in a few of his own music videos online, and has recently started narrating his life story in a touring comedy show called Tête de Kong!. “I think when you have an artistic sensibility you can express it in any way: music, dance, performance, design… I like to build bridges between different worlds.”

It is this attitude that made him an obvious choice to pair with the luxury Swiss watch manufacturers Hublot, where he

has been creative partner since 2017. The watchmaker’s titular ‘porthole’ motif is now a riotous dodecagon bezel that recalls the bevelled, multi-dimensionality of Orlinski’s sculptures. He describes the style as “on the border of vintage and neo-futurism”.

The watchcases are available in titanium or King Gold, and each has an understated transparent or matte-black strap.

Orlinski, who has collected watches since he was a child, tells me that he sees the collaboration as an artistic and spiritual meeting with legendary industry visionary Jean-Claude Biver, who can be credited for turning around the fortunes of Hublot back in the mid-Noughties and making it the horological phenomenon it is today. “Hublot likes to push limits. The fusion of our two worlds – that of Maison Hublot, which shapes precious materials and imagines exceptional products, and mine, a pop and coloured world – has been exercised in an extremely spontaneous, almost natural way!”

With a smart simplicity that borrows from both Orlinski’s oeuvre and Hublot’s essential style, the watches merge the spheres of art and design, and Orlinski sees them as artworks in their own right. “You have to be very sensitive to line and material, so it is a continuity of what I like to do,” he says of the design process. It is fitting that the watches will be carried across the world on wrists, permanent fixtures in a public arena. This kind of visibility is fundamental to Orlinski’s ability to spread his vision.

Asked to define it he says, “I would like my art to help people channel their dark thoughts and turn them towards beauty.”

EYES ON THE PRIZE

For the luxury Swiss-made mechanical wristwatch, the future is becoming just as important as its rosetinted past, especially as so many are switching back to the joys and common sense of useful, never-obsolete craftsmanship. The technology ticking away inside has barely changed in 200 years, so it’s a future that depends on the mechanism’s packaging: the case, the dial, the cutting-edge materials. It starts – not, as it used to, with those at the workbench – but at the drawing board: the creative eyes of every brand, charged with the delicate task of nurturing a heritage, while envisioning its rightful place in the now. It’s harder than you think – aiming to design the sort of watches their forefathers would make now. Here we meet three such practitioners, at three renowned maisons, imagining an impossible paradox: a contemporary antique. Words by Laura Mccreddie-Doak and Alex Doak

FANBOY REVOLUTIONARY As a young design student he knew nothing about watches, then the j12 changed everything for Arnaud Chastaingt, the man at the helm of Chanel’s horological epiphany

You probably wouldn’t recognise the director of Chanel’s watchmaking design studio if you passed him on Rue Cambon.

Neat, tailored and chic, in that way only Parisians can be, Arnaud Chastaingt is not one to stand out. His watches, however, are another matter entirely, because Chastaingt is the man behind Chanel’s transformation from noted fashion house with watches in the accessories catalogue, to a leading player on the haute horlogerie stage.

Since moving from Cartier – where for 10 years he was working on timepiece design, before being promoted to head of the watch and high-jewellery creative studio – he has created the inherently handsome Monsieur de Chanel, the maison’s first-ever man’s watch, with everything dial-side in service to the beauty of Romain Gauthier’s handcrafted movement. Chastaingt is the mind behind the androgynous elegance of the Boy.Friend; the urban drama of the Code Coco; and now, this year’s reimagining of Chanel’s most iconic timepiece, the j12.

“I really didn’t know anything about watches until the launch of the [original] j12, back when I was 20,” he says of lateartistic director Jacques Helleu’s unisex, monochrome-ceramic waterbaby, named after a racing class of yacht. “I immediately developed a crush on it as a design student and it was my entry into this world. It was because of that watch that I went to Cartier, where I knew nothing about watch design;

but then I think if you know nothing about a product it can be very freeing.”

This design-first attitude has served him well at Chanel, a maison where, as Chastaingt says “creativity is important”.

However, he also realises there is a pressure to keep designs contemporary, but still draw on the iconography that remains at the core of Chanel’s identity; hence the j12’s new in-house automatic mechanics, manufactured in cahoots with Rolex’s little brother Tudor, while outwardly things have been softened – the bezel slimmed but with more prominent ridges. Everything has changed, while, seemingly, nothing has changed.

“Coco Chanel herself loved a paradox,” says Chastaingt. One gets the sense she’d have approved.

HISTORY BOY Vacheron Constantin has been hand-crafting some of Switzerland’s finest timepieces for over 260 years – how does Christian Selmoni envisage the next 260?

“It is a very interesting challenge!” says Selmoni, with some degree of understatement. Well, as much understatement as is possible coming from a man standing over six foot six, immaculately tailored and topped with features that could be chiselled from marble.

As a Vacheron Constantin veteran of almost 30 years, born into a family of watchmakers, his authority on the subject is just as intimidating as his physique.

“On one side,” he says, “we think that it makes sense to perpetuate the classic, elegant, refined design of Vacheron Constantin. However, we have to make sure that new models are contemporary creations and not reproductions from past designs.”

That’s as may be, but it speaks volumes that in 2017, after 16 years as artistic director, he was reappointed as ‘style and heritage director’. Given that Vacheron Constantin carries the gravity of a continuous 264year heritage (the longest in Switzerland), it makes sense to have a watchful eye constantly weighing-up new arrivals against their formidable pedigree. Seeing as his colleagues called him ‘the walking archive’, Selmoni was a shoe-in.

As well as maintaining his creative influence on every fresh crop of novelties (this year’s was a triumph of midnightblue handsomeness), he also curates Les Collectionneurs – a highly limited selection of vintage pieces for sale fully restored and

with, pioneering a first for the luxury watch world, BlockChain digital certification.

“One of our best creations,” he reveals, “which mixes contemporary design elements and inspirations from Vacheron Constantin heritage, is the Traditionnelle Twin Beat perpetual calendar, from this year’s sihh.

It mixes our traditional aesthetic codes with a modern design approach and state-of-theart technicality: two distinct gear trains and oscillators, giving an amazing 65 days of autonomy.”

Wherein lies the rub. Watchmaking is all about ingenious micro-engineering, but it could be the only field of engineering where deliberately complicating something is acceptable. Desirable, even. So, if we’re capable of winding our own watch every evening, why pay for skipping this task 64 times?

“I think the most interesting thing about mechanical watches is that we’re talking about human ingenuity,” Selmoni enthused recently on the bbc news, “a fascination for crafts and know-how that have been perpetuated generation after generation.”

“And by contrast to today’s smartwatches, in 200 years they will still work.”

Given his employer’s renowned quality, there could be a Vacheron pocket watch out there that’s been working for as many as 264. And if anyone’s going to find it, it’s Christian Selmoni. Keep an eye out for the reissue.

LIQUID ASSET François Nuñez has it harder than some: finding the right design language for one of the luxury watch scene’s most ‘outthere’ brands, while retaining that all-important Swissness

“After spending 30 years in the industry, I knew that working for a company that would endlessly keep digging into its archive was not an option. Instead I wanted to join an organisation where we would be given the opportunity to express a modern point of view.”

So says François Nuñez on why he made the move from the rugged outdoorsy world of Victorinox, to the mad and wonderful HYT – the brand renowned for telling the time with a circular capillary tube and fluorescent liquids.

It’s certainly no picnic making your mark on a brand with such a far-out aesthetic.

However, since he started at HYT in 2017, as its vice president and creative director, Nuñez has been instrumental in creating, in his words, “a bold new vision, a daring new direction, a new target audience, a new design language and a new market positioning.” All of which he manages to wrap up in the form of the h0, a pared-back, more streamlined version of its original h1.

Despite a cv to the contrary (Nuñez was formerly at Rado, Georg Jensen and Calvin Klein, brands all united by their minimalist aesthetic), the way he talks about design makes it almost seem like an oversight not to have had him on board when HYT was in its infancy.

“Design is a process that has little to do with sketching something fresh or beautiful.

Design should start by asking yourself the

right questions and trying to come up with the best possible answer,” he explains. “Just as our 12-hour display’s two liquids are both immiscible and complementary, there is an existing tension between art and science, innovation and tradition, feeling contemporary and remaining timeless. No force exists without a counter. Creativity lies right in between.”

Forget about boardroom tables and hip-hop videos; the sea is Rolex’s natural environment. As inventor non pareil of the rugged, waterproof wristwatch almost a century ago, its Oyster Perpetual models remain the go-to instruments for yachtspeople – racers, circumnavigators and amateurs alike – thanks to its revolutionary cocktail of screw-down crown and rubber gaskets.

No better endorsement came than in the shape of Sir Francis Chichester, whose single-handed round-the-world voyage of 1966–1967 captured so many headlines and imaginations. Long before the days of gps, his navigational instruments included a sextant and a Rolex Oyster Perpetual chronometer, the precise ‘home time’ of which allowed the calculation of longitude by comparison to local solar time.

Arguably long overdue, Rolex’s purpose-built Yacht-Master first launched

in 1992. Now, 27 years on, things are upped to 42 millimetres’ worth of seaworthy white gold – precious enough to style out the teak decks of a Sunseeker, yet hardy enough to weather the battered transom of a regatta racer, thanks to its new ceramic-based Cerachrom bezel, rounded edges that won’t snag on rigging and steel-reinforced rubber Oysterflex bracelet, instantly adjustable to the width of a wetsuit or French cuff, thanks to Rolex’s ingenious Glidelock extension system.

In this very watch, Rolex’s roll call of exceptional athletes now finds a natural Testimonee in Sir Ben Ainslie. With five medals (four of them gold), this sporting legend is the most successful Olympic sailor in history. An America’s Cup winner with Team Oracle usa in 2013, he helmed the greatest comeback in sporting history, from an eight-to-

one deficit against Team New Zealand to winning the Cup with eight straight victories. Now the four-time Rolex World Sailor of the Year leads a British quest to secure the world’s oldest sporting trophy for the first time since the contest’s inception in 1851, when the Isle of Wight’s Royal Yacht Squadron awarded the ‘Auld Mug’ to their us challenger, America.

The stakes are high, since the uk’s richest man Jim Ratcliffe and his multinational chemicals company Ineos took over in 2018, enacting a ‘win or nothing’ campaign from a purpose-built facility in Portsmouth. Using the best of British innovation to design and build two ac75 hydrofoiling monohulls, there’s no reason why Sir Ben and his crew can’t make history in Auckland, New Zealand, come 2021.

But why take our word for it…?

In Rolex, and its salty seadog Yacht-Master, Sir Ben Ainslie has finally found his match.

But what’s next on the horizon for British sailing’s living legend?

Nothing less than bringing the America’s Cup back to home soil – first awarded by the Royal Yacht Squadron in 1851, but never won by a British crew in all its 168 years

illustration: david sparshott

BEN AINSLIE

TenTen: What does it mean to be a Rolex Testimonee?

Sir Ben Ainslie: It is an honour to be involved.

Sailing is a technical sport. Precision and excellence are core to the overall performance in sailing from a sporting perspective and this is a common link with what Rolex stands for. Even with sailing alone there are some real legends of the sport involved in the Rolex Testimonee family: Paul Elvstrøm, most notably. From my Olympic background and as a child growing up he was very much a hero and icon of the sport. tt: Do you have a favourite Rolex watch? ba: While I find the Deep-Sea to be a

seriously impressive piece of engineering, my favourite Rolex is the Sky-Dweller in terms of the look, feel and functionality.

It is well suited to my lifestyle, moving about the world so much. From a sailor’s perspective, the Yacht-Master ii is another

exceptional timepiece. To know that I could be racing in the Solent, wearing a beautiful watch that I can actually use practically for the pre-start and the race itself is something very special [see overleaf ]. tt: Which Rolex-sponsored yachting

events have been most memorable? ba: The second night of the 2006 Rolex Sydney Hobart on Alfa Romeo with Neville Crichton was really quite rough. I remember we blew out pretty much all the spinnakers we had, and we had some big wipe-outs. It was my first proper offshore race and it was a real eye-opener. I remember one particular moment, when I was towards the front of the boat with a legendary bowman called Joey Allen. We did a big submarine nosedive down a wave. There was water everywhere and I was hanging

1

2 1 Previous page Personal thanks from Sir Francis Chichester for his Rolex gmt- Master, just nine days prior to embarking on his recordbreaking solo circumnavigation aboard Gipsy Moth iv.

2 Rolex has sponsored – among so many others – the top-flight Swan Cup regatta in Porto Cervo, Sardinia since 1984.

Technically, any Rolex Oyster can sail the high seas, thanks to its watertight gaskets and screwdown crown. The Yacht-Master (£21,400) is the pro go-to, however, boasting ultra-bright Chromalight display and comfy Oysterflex steelreinforced rubber strap.

on to the mast. The bow of the boat came back up and Joe had one. I was shocked, fearing we had lost him overboard. But the canny old seadog had climbed up the forestay to get away from the water; he slid down like something out of a movie. It was a great bit of seamanship. tt: What’s been most memorable so far? ba: London 2012 was a big moment.

It was a home Olympics for me, and we had the Nothe area where the public could watch the final medal races. Being able to compete in front of a large crowd, in sailing terms, was really special. I was then asked to carry the Union Jack flag into the closing ceremony, which was the first time I had been into the Olympic stadium in London. The atmosphere was electric, and that is something that will stay with me for a long time.

tt: Do you respond well to a challenge? ba: We started a new British America’sCup team in 2014 [ineos Team uk ].

The America’s Cup started at the Royal Yacht Squadron but has never been won by a British team and the goal for all of us is to change that. It is a huge, huge challenge. We are up against the New Zealanders with their history in the Cup, against whom I have the experience of winning [with Oracle Team usa], in 2013.

If ever there was a team effort, the 2013 America’s Cup was it. So much happened, from the capsize of the first boat, to the Artemis incident and the tragic loss of Andrew Simpson, a close personal friend, and then, finally, the match itself. It looked like it was going to be a whitewash, with the Kiwis so dominant. We made changes to the boat and the crew and got some momentum.

It became this most amazing story and to

be part of that was a great privilege; I enjoyed that battle immensely. It was amazing to be a part of a team involved with such a huge comeback, and of course timing was critical. Many people forget that Team nz were winning what would have been a decisive race, but were not able to cross the finish line within the time limit. For our team it was what you could call a ‘Get out of jail free’ card! tt: By contrast, what do you do to relax? ba: I love cruising. It is a bit of a busman’s

holiday, but getting out on the water is always fun. I have been learning to fly on and off for about 12 years – there always seems to be something that gets in the way, but it is a great distraction from sailing, and the concentration required gets me away from the everyday issues. I also enjoy the odd round of golf. ineosteamuk.americascup.com

jostling for the line

The seemingly chaotic starting procedure of a regatta unfolds over 5 to 10 minutes – a preparatory phase that can be decisive for victory. What a good skipper needs is a regatta countdown chronograph, and the best you can get is Rolex’s Yacht-Master ii. With programming and on-the-fly synchronisation functions unique to a mechanical regatta watch, you can command the stopwatch to coincide with the race’s official clock, whatever the lead-up time. Here’s how a 10-minute starting sequence might play out…

Before the race The starter’s flag and sound signals will impose the rhythm of the start sequence as yachts manoeuvre for position around the line.

Minus 10 minutes a starting gun and a flag give the warning signal marking the start of the official regatta countdown.

Minus 5 minutes A preparatory signal is given: the gun is fired a second time and another flag is hoisted.

Minus 1 minute A second preparatory signal is given with a blast of a horn and the 5-minute flag is lowered.

Start signal Indicated by the final sound of the gun and the lowering of the 10-minute signal flag.

Countdown programming The skipper programmes a countdown duration of 10 minutes by unlocking his Yacht-Master ii’s ringcommand bezel, turning the triangular countdown hand to 10 via the crown, then locking the bezel again.

Countdown launch A gun is fired and the skipper launches the countdown by pressing the pusher at 2 o’clock. The red hand begins its countdown and the chronograph’s centre second hand leaps into life.

Synchronisation A second gun shot. If necessary, the skipper has an opportunity to synchronise the watch countdown with the official countdown, by pressing the pusherat 4 o’clock, resetting the second hand on the fly.

Final check A blast of a horn. The skipper checks with a glance that the countdown of the Yacht-Master ii is properly synchronised with the official timing, adjusting if necessary.

Crossing the start line The final gun fires. Having manoeuvred to the line, right down to the last second indicated by his Yacht-Master ii countdown, the skipper is perfectly positioned to cross the line and make the best start.

The records keep tumbling at Bulgari, whose horological Rinascimento now boasts the thinnest chronograph ever made. Words by Alex Doak Photography by Robin Broadbent

It is particularly satisfying that on the 50th birthday of mechanical watchmaking’s last major breakthrough – the self-winding (or automatic) stopwatch, or chronograph – Bulgari has decided to launch an autochrono of its own. The thinnest auto-chrono in its short history, no less.

Why particularly satisfying? Because it was the singular matter of thinness (or lack thereof ) that had Switzerland’s best minds scratching their heads for decades prior to 1969. Our timeline on pages 24–25 may give the impression that some horological silver bullet shot through the valleys of the Jura Mountains that year, but the truth is that separately (even over at Seiko in Japan) the very awkward beast that is a stopwatch powered by a rotor, spun by the movement of your wrist, was being wrestled in very different ways. With hindsight, Bulgari’s effortlessly slinky Octo Finissimo Chronograph gmt Automatic could be seen as a Golden Anniversary snub.

Pioneered by brands like Longines, Breitling, Omega and Heuer, the twinpushbutton wrist-worn chronograph was the magic product that restored the Swiss watch industry to health after its 1930s Depression-era collapse. It was the essential accessory for the burgeoning age of pistondriven speed, booming, with the advent of the jet-age, fuelled by three Swiss movement manufacturers: Venus, Valjoux and Lémania – all of whom produced, at industrial scale,

what are now considered beauteous classics of micro-engineering.

But no amount of late-’60s funkadelic case shapes, orange colour pops and Action Man advertising could detract from one thing: hand-winding a sports chronograph in that day and age had become a little, well… old-fashioned. Automatic was in, manual out, but short of mounting a rotor on top of those three movement-makers’ already voluminous engines, what could be done without busting the elasticated cuff of every Formula 1 race suit or usaf bomber jacket?

Switzerland had been pondering this very quandary since the ’40s.

TAG Heuer and Breitling’s collaborative answer was Calibre 11, which piggybacked an existing base movement with a chronograph module. The kicker was that the base was powered by a micro-rotor, spinning unobtrusively within the volume of the mechanics, rather than on top.

Ambitiously, Zenith’s more elegant answer was integrated, meaning there was to be no additional module. The so-called El Primero was conceived ground-up as an indissoluble whole; so well, in fact, that it remains at the core of the Zenith catalogue – its various levers still co-ordinated via a column wheel, engaging and uncoupling the stopwatch via a horizontal-action clutch rather than vertical for thinness, plus a full-diameter rotor spinning on top.

At just 3.3 millimetres thick, the bvl 318

movement powering Bulgari’s Octo Finissimo Chrono gmt amounts to Matzos levels of wafer-thin – over three millimetres thinner than the El Primero, despite sharing a similarly integrated set-up of column wheel, plus horizontal clutch. Admiring things in all their intricate, gleaming glory through the clear caseback, what’s immediately obvious is that significant savings are made by a peripheral winding rotor, spinning around the circumference of the movement, rather than on top. But short of embarking on a decade-long apprenticeship, that’s as far you’ll get fathoming the secrets of Bulgari’s latest diet plan.

So instead of trying to understand the mechanical wizardry at play (let alone a, relatively, bafflingly affordable £15,200 price tag), spare a thought for the continuing challenge that faces the man in charge of consolidating all that Swiss technicality with the Roman grandeur of Elizabeth Taylor’s favourite jeweller: creative head, Fabrizio Buonamassa.

“The first Finissimo,” he says, referring to Bulgari’s romantic trademark for ‘ultrathin’, “was our first rulebreaker, as it was the slimmest tourbillon ever. After that, with our ‘concept’ established, came the most important milestone: the Minute Repeater.”

Making a watch that dings and dongs the hours, quarters and minutes with two tiny hammers and gongs is impressive enough;

Where’s the selfwinding rotor, which usually rotates on top of an automatic?

Encircling the works: 180º in lightweight aluminium, 180º in weighty platinum.

making the mechanics 3.12 millimetres thick is something else…

“After years and years of bigger and fancier watches, the crash came and people didn’t want to wear flashy complications anymore. The Minute Repeater was a milestone because it was the beginning of an idea: to wear a grand complication in a more elegant, contemporary, Italian way.

“It’s something super sophisticated, which our clients love to have hidden.”

In keeping with Buonamassa’s guiding principle that “beauty follows function, not form”, the Octo Finissimo Minute Repeater’s clean-as-a-sheet subtlety (despite a price tag of £123,000) was made stealthier still by its matte-finish titanium case.

Titanium’s richer resonance than steel or gold meant that less material was required to amplify the chimes to a similar audible effect, so it could be thinner.

“The very functional use of titanium gave us the Octo Finissimo’s new signature style, but, in turn, presented one of our biggest ongoing challenges…”

With every record-breaking Octo Finissimo, there’s the obvious challenge of engineering a constellation of micromechanics that tick robustly, despite the infinitesimal physics at play. But throw in a titanium case? Machining such a brittle material to such unforgiving tolerances is a proper headache. Especially given that the ‘standard’ Octo case is tricky enough,

even in something as forgiving as gold, thanks to its jigsaw puzzle of 110 facets, edges and angles – all milled from a single lump of metal through 18 operations and plenty of rejects.

After this, the Minute Repeater was the thinnest-ever time-only automatic watch, its titanium case now down to a machinist’s nightmare of 5.15 millimetres; followed by the thinner-still Octo Finissimo Tourbillon Automatic, at a board-wiping 3.95 millimetres.

Come 2019, here we are: the thinnestever chronograph, with second-time-zone gmt function into the bargain too.

Plus something strange: a seeming lack of influence from Signore Buonamassa.

Surely a chronograph with all its fussy counters and side-buttons put him at loggerheads with the boys in the lab? Or, in other words, how can such a technical switch-up still sit so consistently alongside every other Octo Finissimo?

In revealing his guiding method, it seems Buonamassa’s mantra of “beauty follows function, not form” is as much about lack of form as lack of thickness.

“Simplicity is the most difficult thing,” he says with passion. “I start by making sketches, trying to discover the product; adding details, tweaking them.

“Then further down the process, I start to remove them. There is no space for decorative elements – they usually allow

others to follow trends, but of course they immediately age the product.

“With less decoration, you have more timelessness,” Buonamassa concludes, spoken like a true, effortlessly stylish, Italian.

Sure enough, the Chrono gmt Auto is a masterstroke of timelessness. On the one hand, it’s arguable that the Octo case itself is one big decorative item (named, in 2004, in tribute to the eight-sided persuasions of designer Gérald Genta, whose eponymous brand Bulgari purchased five years prior), but just like its Finissimo forebears, not even the addition of a stopwatch function and gmt interfere with that core design statement. The dial has been kept entirely flat and you have to actually look for the two start/stop/reset pushbuttons and gmt adjustment button – styled to blend in with the surrounding, monumental contours.

“Our capability of fusing edgy, magnificent Italian design with the ultimate Swiss engineering and craftsmanship?” mused Bulgari ceo Jean-Christophe Babin, at this year’s Basel watch fair. “This is why I talk about Rinascimento from Bulgari; it is truly a revolution of design with technology.”

That might smack of corporate hubris from anyone else. But with Octo Finissimo’s five-and-counting string of record breakers, the proof is in the (slimline) pudding.

National Geographic’s boy wonder of mountain photography has teamed up with Switzerland’s oldest watchmaker, bringing two unflagging pursuits of passion together with one very special timepiece

Taking a selfie makes plenty of people famous these days – arguably for all the wrong reasons. But how many Instagram stars have switched to their front camera having just dug themselves from an avalanche that should have left them for dead?

Cory Richards did, in 2011, descending from the summit of Pakistan’s Gasherbrum II, turning his slr upon himself despite the fact he’d been spun in a “furious washing machine” just minutes earlier, his mouth and nose packed with powder.

The photo made the cover of National Geographic’s 125th-anniversary issue, making Richards, and his mission to capture the ends of the earth, world-famous overnight. Then the trauma caught up with him, and things turned sour. Haunted by ‘that selfie’, he started drinking heavily and split from his wife.

Richards is a natural-born photographer but he is also an accomplished mount-

aineer. And with all the bloody-minded tenacity required of the latter, he managed to turn his fortunes around to become one of NatGeo’s finest photographers, with a focus on environmental issues.

From aimless Colorado slackerdom at 14 years old, to summiting Everest without oxygen in 2016 (placing him in only two per cent to have done so), Cory Richards is a unique figure with an infectious personality and rare humility: the perfect ambassador for Vacheron Constantin in other words – the world’s longest-running watchmaker at 264 years and counting, typified by its own brand of quietly spoken excellence.

TenTen had the rare opportunity to tap the mind of a modern mountaineering hero, fresh from a postponed Everest ascent via the treacherous northeast ridge (abandoned just 400 metres shy of its 8,000-metre peak, due to extreme weather).

TenTen: A Vacheron Constantin watch wouldn’t usually feature on the kit list of a mountaineer.

How did you guys get talking?

Cory Richards: Honestly, climbing and mountaineering are extensions of the wider ethos of exploration, and the dna of exploration is hard-baked into Vacheron Constantin. Beyond that though, our collaboration has been more about our aligned passions for crafting, which necessarily makes us outliers. My pursuits are defined by their similar dedication to always do better. To refine. To make as perfect as possible. So while it’s true that it’s not usually on the kit list of an alpinist, our ideologies do align. tt: Which model suits you the most and why? cr: It would have to be the one we

collaborated on for the Everest expedition – an Overseas Dual-Time, of which we only made one [the rakish, titanium-cased number pictured top right, its second-timezone-hours hand-picked-out in orange].

It’s important for me to know what time it is back home, but perhaps even more important to know that the world in which I’m currently working is one of two; the

other is where my friends and family are.

It’s a constant reminder not to risk too much, but also to celebrate all those in my life that have brought me to this moment. tt: Adventure and photography have always gone

in tandem for you. But does the responsibility of being a NatGeo photographer mean you’re less indulgent in your adventures? cr: They occupy different spaces in my life that commonly overlap. Both are forms of expression, though one is purely for me and the other has greater external influence. Telling stories is a uniquely human endeavour and I do believe there is a responsibility there. I don’t think one influences the other more or less, but I do believe that there is a greater gravity to storytelling and photography; its potential impacts are greater. Conversely, in order to tell meaningful stories, it’s important that I keep going off grid to discover important issues, so that I might have greater potency as a photographer. tt: Who are your heroes of photography? cr: Oh no… So many! Historically Avedon,

Ritts, Newton, Penn… I mean, the big ones

Cory Richards worked with Vacheron Constantin on a unique titaniumcased version of the Dual-Time, from the watchmaker’s Overseas – an unusually sporty collection stemming from a 222nd-anniversary piece launched in 1977.

of course. But frankly, I’m more inspired by contemporaries like David Guttenfelder, Matthieu Paley, Lynsey Addario, Ami Vitale, and that is just in the reportage realm.

Marco Grob, Dan Winters, Celeste Sloman…

I could go on and on! tt: You visit some extraordinarily remote

people. Is there anything you wouldn’t photograph on assignment? cr: There is nothing I wouldn’t shoot, but I will always work to be respectful of the wishes of those that I am photographing.

tt: You’ve summited Everest twice now.

Given this year’s controversial amount of deaths (plus infamous coverage of over-crowding), do you think you’d go again? cr: Yes, absolutely. What Topo [Esteban Mena, Richard’s Ecuadorian climbing partner] and I were to trying to achieve on Everest this year was completely off the beaten path. There was no one near us.

It doesn’t need to be a long line to the top.

Sure, if that is your jam… go for it. I can’t police, condemn or comment on anyone’s experience but my own.

tt: What’s still on your bucket list of assignments? cr: This could be a novel! I want to do more

work in Africa and Central Asia. I believe climate change is at our doorstep, and we will begin to see its impacts more and more clearly in the near future. I want to be part of the solutions, so stories that help move us inclusively to action are stories that I am interested in. tt: Do you think the planet is doomed, or can

the next generation kickstart the environmental recovery process? cr: I think the question here is: ‘Is the human family doomed?’ The planet is going to be just fine. It will keep doing what it does until the sun swells and swallows it. That is the trajectory of Earth, whether we like it or not. How long we stick around for is up to us to some degree.

I absolutely believe we can solve the problems we are facing. I’m infinitely hopeful in our capacity to do better as a species. We aren’t doomed… but we need to shift our perspectives rapidly if we are to escape the wrath of our own existence. It is happening and it delights me to witness it.

Expensive they may be, but a well-looked-after wristwatch will look after you for a lifetime and beyond – especially those engineered to venture between a rock and a hard, or sharp, occasionally even underwater place. Photography by Andy Barter

HARD

GRAFT

first page Seiko Prospex lx Spring Drive snr031j1 in titanium £5,400 second page Tudor Heritage Black Bay P01 in steel £2,830 Rolex Oyster Perpetual Sea-Dweller in Oystersteel and yellow gold £12,400

Patek Philippe Aquanaut Ref.5167r in rose gold ÂŁ28,300

TAG Heuer Aquaracer in steel £1,300

Panerai pam683 Submersible 42mm Automatic 3-day in steel ÂŁ8,300

Bvlgari Diagono Pro Watch in rose gold ÂŁ18,500

Ulysse Nardin Marine Torpilleur Military in bronze ÂŁ8,100

Neal: Do you take cash?

Motel clerk: Forty-two fifty.

Neal: How about seventeen dollars...

Motel clerk: I can’t do that.

Neal: Please. Have mercy. I’ve been wearing the same underwear since Tuesday.

Del: I can vouch for that.

Motel clerk: I don’t own the place, I...

Neal: Seventeen dollars... and a hell of a nice watch?

Del: I’ve got a slight problem here, I don’t have the forty-two fifty.

Motel clerk: Do you have seventeen dollars and a good watch?

Del: No I don’t. I have uh... two dollars... and a Casio!

A Motel Stay, for a Piaget There’s good reason Ryan Reynolds is a brand ambassador for Piaget: he’s a Planes, Trains and Automobiles superfan, in which Steve Martin’s Neal Page proves the universal currency of one “hell of a nice watch” by paying for his night at a sleazy motel with his yellow-gold Polo (while John Candy’s hapless Del Griffith, well, doesn’t…)

picture credit: paramount pictures

Motel clerk: Hm… I’m gonna have to say goodnight.

The LANGE 1 has just turned 25.

Discover our summary of the art of fine watchmaking.

LANGE 1

Quite likely, the LANGE 1 shaped the recent history of mechanical

the innovative outsize date display and the newly developed movement

watches more than any other timepiece. Presented in 1994, it was the

caused a stir among the entire industry. To date, the LANGE 1 is the

first watch crafted after the fall of the Berlin Wall that once again bore

epitome of Lange watchmaking artistry and embodies the knowledge

the A. Lange & Söhne signature. Its asymmetric dial configuration,

and skills of an entire watchmaking family. www.alange-soehne.com

You are cordially invited to explore the collection at:

A. LANGE & SÖHNE BOUTIQUE LONDON 38 Old Bond Street · London W1S 4QW · Tel. +44 20 7493 2266