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    Chronographs: the Tool that Set the World's Rhythm

    Chronographs: the Tool that Set the World's Rhythm

    By CharlemagneUpdated on 5 min read

    The chronograph is no ordinary watch

    It is the only mechanical instrument born to measure time in action. As early as 1821, Nicolas Rieussec files the first patent to time horses. Then war arrives. Breguet supplies French pilots with pocket models. Breitling and Rolex follow with precise pushers.

    Seiko and the Olympics, a story of precision

    In 1964, Tokyo hosts the Games. For Japan, it is a matter of national honour. Seiko is chosen as official timekeeper. The brand arrives with 1,278 measuring instruments. Pocket chronometers. Wall clocks. And above all the mono-pusher Crown Chronograph, a piece created specially for the event. 21 jewels. Solid steel case. Engraved rotating bezel. It is not pretty, it is functional.

    Seiko Crown Chronograph, official timekeeper of the 1964 Tokyo Olympics
    Seiko mono-pusher Crown Chronograph, Tokyo 1964. The start of an era.
    Seiko advertisement in Life International for the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, stopwatches cascading down
    "How many stop watches are needed to time a modern Olympiad?" Seiko advertisement published in Life International, 1964.

    Before Tokyo, sports timekeeping was European. Longines, Omega, everything was decided in Switzerland. Seiko turns the table. Their photo-finish system, printed to the thousandth of a second, changes the rules. No more judging by eye. No more disputes. The machine decides.

    Seiko advertisement for the 1964 Tokyo Olympics
    Period advertisement for the Crown Chronograph and the World Time, launched for the 1964 Olympics.

    Since then, Seiko has never let go of athletics. World championships, the Diamond League, international marathons. Their fluorescent yellow boards have become as recognisable as the sprint lanes themselves. Nobody watches them directly. Everyone hunts for them with their eyes at every finish line.

    Usain Bolt posing in front of the Seiko board showing 9.58 seconds, the 100m world record, Berlin 2009
    Berlin 2009. 9.58 seconds. The Seiko board shows the record, Bolt poses in front of it. Both enter history.

    Paul Newman and the Daytona, the accident that became a legend

    Paul Newman never wanted to be a watch ambassador. It is his wife, Joanne Woodward, who gives him a Rolex Daytona reference 6239 in the late sixties. On the back of the case, she has "Drive Carefully Me" engraved. Newman is an amateur racing driver. He competes in SCCA, at Daytona, at Lime Rock. The watch goes with him everywhere.

    Paul Newman at the wheel of his racing car, Rolex Daytona on his wrist
    Paul Newman at the wheel. The Daytona on his wrist. The man and the watch, inseparable.

    The dial of his Daytona is distinctive. Cream base. Black sub-dials. Square indices. Raised tachymetric scale. At the time, nobody wants one. Dealers sell off these "exotic" dials cheaply because customers prefer the classic versions. Total irony.

    Then Newman wears his watch in a magazine. Then another. Collectors start calling this dial the "Paul Newman". The myth takes hold. In 2017, Newman's own watch, the one with Joanne's engraving, sells at Phillips for 17.75 million dollars. An absolute record at the time. An object worth 300 dollars in 1968.

    Rolex Daytona Paul Newman reference 6241, panda dial with brown sub-dials
    The "Paul Newman" dial. The exotic nobody wanted. Turned into the Grail.

    What makes the story so good is that Newman couldn't have cared less. He wore his Daytona to time his laps. Not to impress. Not to invest. He gave it to James Cox, his daughter's boyfriend, simply telling him "here, take this". Cox wore it for years before realising what he had on his wrist.

    Tag Heuer and Formula 1, the chronograph at 300 km/h

    Jack Heuer is a racing man. In 1963, he names his new chronograph "Carrera", after the Carrera Panamericana, the deadly Mexican road race of the 1950s. Three thousand four hundred kilometres across desert and mountain. Drivers died there. Others were made there. Jack Heuer wanted that name. He took it.

    Start of the Carrera Panamericana, 1950s, chequered flag and racing cars
    The Carrera Panamericana. Chequered flag, dust and adrenaline.

    In 1969, Tag Heuer strikes even harder. The Monaco, the first automatic chronograph with a square, water-resistant case. Steve McQueen wears it in "Le Mans". The film is middling. The watch becomes a cult object.

    But it is Formula 1 that seals Tag Heuer's fate. The brand becomes official timekeeper in 1992 and never lets go. Ayrton Senna wears a Tag Heuer. Then McLaren. Then Red Bull. Even today, every Grand Prix displays the red and white clock above the pit lane. The thousandths of a second separating drivers in qualifying, Tag Heuer counts them.

    Formula 1 pit lane with the Tag Heuer clock towering over the garages
    Tag Heuer dominates the pit lane. Every millisecond counts, and they count them all.
    Racing car in Tag Heuer livery at the modern Carrera Panamericana
    The Carrera Panamericana continues. The cars still carry Tag Heuer's colours.
    Tag Heuer Carrera Chronograph x Porsche 963, black case and red hand
    Tag Heuer Carrera x Porsche 963. Modern racing, black and red.

    Space too

    Omega Speedmaster. Moonwatch. Worn on the Moon. Certified by NASA. The chronograph that watched Armstrong set foot down. Still in production. Still on astronauts' wrists.

    Omega Speedmaster Professional Moonwatch on a steel bracelet, resting on rocks
    Speedmaster. Black. Classic. Timeless.

    The craftsmen of the chronograph

    And then there are the pioneers. Ferdinand Berthoud, marine chronometer maker to the king. Extraordinary precision in the eighteenth century. Revived by Chopard with the FB1, a fusee-and-chain tourbillon paying tribute to two centuries of craftsmanship.

    Ferdinand Berthoud FB1 Chronométrie, fusee-and-chain tourbillon in titanium, blue hands
    Ferdinand Berthoud FB1. Fusee-and-chain tourbillon. Two centuries of marine horology in a modern case.

    And François-Paul Journe. Independent. His Chronomètre à Résonance makes two balance wheels vibrate together, in harmony. Pure mechanical poetry. His Tourbillon Souverain Vertical pushes the limits further still.

    F.P. Journe Chronomètre à Résonance in rose gold, salmon dial
    F.P. Journe Chronomètre à Résonance. Two balance wheels, a single obsession.
    F.P. Journe Tourbillon Souverain Vertical in platinum, on technical drawings
    Tourbillon Souverain Vertical. Mechanics raised to the rank of art.

    The chronograph is all of that

    History. Sport. Science. Luxury. Seiko for the masses. Rolex for the dream. Omega for the infinite. And the craftsmen for the art. The chronograph has measured everything, from Rieussec's horses to Bolt's seconds. It carries on.

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