Going Down the Modding Road: A Seiko IWW-Giugiaro(?) Italian Glonograph
The exploding scene in Seiko modifications is one of the coolest things happening in Japanese watchdom.
In auto collecting circles, an interesting fork in the road separates the ultra-exotic rarities and vintage restorations from custom modified street rods. The former collectors treat the manufactured design as sacrosanct, and dedicate their skills to preserving the best of the best. The second group uses the manufactured product as a platform for expressing its own creative vision. The two genres understandably attract different breeds, but which one delivers the greater satisfaction, or achieves the higher plane of goodness, is a tough question to answer. While everybody who loves beautiful machines would die for one of these masterpieces,
or maybe one like this,
who can deny the pure genius of the great hot rod or fail to envy the enormous skill required to build one?
The same avenues present themselves to watch collectors, particularly for lovers of the Japanese brands, which offer fine raw materials for modification projects. With some imagination and the help of the thriving chop shop artists (see PeteW’s survey below), it is possible nowadays to create exceptional customized watches that you’re not going see in multiples every time you’re shopping at Ralphs. While some of these projects never achieve lift-off, they’re all fun and the best achieve true greatness. And whether your vision proves inspired or not, you will certainly gain a deeper appreciation for the subtle craft of the watch designer.
Mustang Frame Fitted With 1100 cu.in. Sherman Tank Engine
Seiko’s Italian Market Chronograph
Well, those were my thoughts anyway, when I decided to take measures with a true love-hate object, my Seiko “Italian Market Chronograph.” With proportions ample enough to swallow a Prospex Professional 300m Diver, the Italian chrono is one of Seiko’s most eye catching and formidable productions of the 1990’s.
It is a sad irony that today’s collectors value the Italian Chronos more for their chunky bracelets than anything else. (The bracelet shown above is Walt Aranow’s superb 3.2mm brushed mesh by the way). If they had been built with mechanical movements, I’m sure the story would be different, but these days you hardly hear a word about them. What a shame, because the Italian Chronographs have many elements of greatness. With casework that rivals the heavily engineered professional divers, and superb detailing, they deserve a far better legacy than they now enjoy.
I purchased my first Italian Chrono several years ago from the resourceful Jose Tan, who somewhere discovered a large cache of them and became their premier distributor. Though Jose swore me to secrecy at the time, I suppose the Italian chronos are now so long gone that I can reveal the price I paid for mine– an incredible $139.
They create quite a first impression, starting with a gorgeous case that’s laid out in a flared, multi-level arrangement with bullhead style pushers. The satiny bead-blasted lower tier is very wide, about 47mm in diameter, but the case tapers upward in a way that understates its true size. Its conical shape and buttery finish both recall the shroud on the 300m divers, but here the “shroud” is truncated before it surrounds the bezel above. The bezel itself is not rotating, but structural, with a polished finish and flared indents at the hour markers. It supports a handsome tachymeter inset and a huge domed crystal. Down below, a cavernous blue dial becomes the stage for an animated arrangement of circular elements, including raised luminous markers with stainless surrounds and recessed subdials with beveled and polished rims. The elongated, segmented hands are a signature of the Italianate Seikos. The whole scene is highly energetic, and further enhanced by a three dimensional, polished, extruded Seiko logo that recalls Fox Studio’s.
All these ingredients produce a visual feast that is disciplined by a serious, architectural sensibility. When you hold the watch, it is obviously the work of a skillful, experienced designer.
This brings me to an intriguing mystery about who really designed the Italian Chronograph. My assumption for a long time was that Giorgetto Giugiaro, creater of many inspired and avant-garde Seikos, also designed the Italian chronos. Giugiaro is one of the world’s great industrial designers, and renowned in automotive circles among many others. I double checked my theory with the famed connoisseur of Seiko quartz movements, Stratman II from Kuala Lumpur, who shared my belief. “Yes, Giugiaro Design did create the Seiko models for the Italian market. Some were marketed under the Sportiva Macchina line. The Italian jobs were really huge chronos, typically 48mm in diameter.” But our own PeteW threw cold water on the theory by pointing out that the lugs on the Italian chrono are a noticeable departure from the signature lugless arrangements in Giugiaro’s other Seikos. True the hands match the ones found in Giugiaro’s Macchina series, but so what? Seiko recycles parts from watch to watch without a second thought, and that evidence doesn’t prove anything.
Hmmm. I decided to go straight to the source by emailing Giugiaro’s design atelier in Moncalieri, Italy. I tried to present my question in a simple, unassuming manner, while subtly promoting my scholarly credentials in the return address. But for reasons I find impossible to imagine, much less explain, no response materialized. At this point, I don’t know whether Giugiaro had anything to do with the Italian chrono or not. What can be said for sure is that it has a personality all its own, and looks very unlike Seiko’s other Japanese lines. If anybody can resolve this mystery, please let us know here at GMT+9 by posting a comment. The world needs an answer!
From Chrono to Glonograph
With all of these wonderful elements and a possibly distinguished provenance, the Italian Chrono might seem like a flat-out winner (naturally leaving aside that its quartz movement would mean automatic disqualification for many collectors of the old school persuasion). A little time on the wrist reveals an aggravating fly in the ointment, however– an off-putting propensity for illegibility whenever the silvered hands pass over the silver subdials. How like Italy itself, you might say, where beauty trumps practicality at every turn. When I couldn’t’ take it anymore, I turned to modification-guru Jack Alexyon of International Watch Works, who is widely famed for his startling restorations of vintage divers and military timepieces. I’m not sure whether Jack ever held a quartz chronograph before, but he is gamer, and applied himself to the tricky assignment with customary verve.
The initial problem was how to restore legibility to the otherwise excellent design without trampling on its core virtues. By edging the main hands in black, one now gets a clear view of them all around the dial, and a resonance with the black tachymeter bezel that looks very cool on the wrist. Applying the makeover to only two segments was Jack’s insightful idea, and its effect is more subtle than a large closeup suggests. The following picture is more nearly life size (on my screen anyhow) and shows how black edging restores legibility, where normally the time would be lost from view, without becoming a dominant or dissonant focal point to the eye.
But who could resist the temptation to add some Italian dolce, once the opportunity presented itself? While giving the subdials red hands added life and cheerfulness, applying massive overdoses of luminous material supercharged the whole design into the stratosphere. While I’m thrilled to wear my new masterpiece during the hours from six to noon, where formerly the hour hand used to disappear completely, the greatest enjoyment now comes in the night time, when the lights are low, and the glonograph displays its truly fantastic powers of luminosity. As I drift off in bed toward sweet dreams of Italy, I can now see a pronounced green glow right through the sheets, reassuring me that I would be able to tell the time all night, if only I were awake.
It is amazing how a few simple moves turned a forgotten near-miss into a tour de force that constantly evokes comments like, “Wow. Where did you get that cool watch?”
“If only you knew,” I always think to myself before replying. “I doubt they have them at Timeland, but you could check.”
Photo Credits: www.streetrodderweb.com/freestuff/, www.ultrapc.cz/auta/galerie.php, www.cinescene.com/dash/studios.html, wikipedia
February 17th, 2007 at 9:40 pm
Awesome! Funnily enough, I bought my Ball Alligator from Jose, great transaction, great guy! Thanks for sharing the Italian chrono—as you mentioned, unfortunately everyone is after them for the bracelets to put on the various Tuna can divers. On the font front, I’ve noticed my Landrek Prospex has at least two different fonts on the dial. I’ll try and take a pic of it soon..
Regards the photo with the Mustang frame with sherman tank engine—my dad has always been a big old car buff. When I was a kid we had a ‘49 Cadillac Sedanette (fastback) that we restored that had one of the earliest overhead valve V8 engines in it (I believe that Cadillac even ran one in the 24 hours of LeMans that year - the driver could listen to the radio if he wanted) . I remember my dad telling me that some of the Sherman’s had Cadillac V8 engines in them, only one of them rotated the opposite way (each drove a tank tread directly). So after the war, guys that were restoring whichever model Caddy that used the same engine as in the Sherman’s, would sometimes get a good deal on a “crate” engine and end up with the one that ran the wrong way!
February 18th, 2007 at 5:13 am
Here’s some more info on the Sherman Mustang. Unfortunately I’ve misplaced the link to the hot rod forum where it was posted, but maybe it will turn up:
Best
TF
February 18th, 2007 at 9:00 am
You’ve certainly hit on something here, with the modifications taking place in the Japanese watch world being similar to trends in automobile customization. I don’t see a lot of customization going on with other brands. Do you think modifying watches is more prevalent among Japanese watch fans than among collectors of brands made in Europe?
Always wanted an Italian Chronograph. It is a shame the watch got less attention than its bracelet. Another excellent article, Jim. I especially liked the Giorgetto Giugiaro mystery. Sending the e-mail to his design studio made me laugh. For a minute, I thought you were gonna solve the who done it!
February 19th, 2007 at 7:58 am
You’ve got an interesting question there Bryan, and we should be sure to ask Jack Alexyon about it in his upcoming interview with GMT+9. Nobody knows more about the modding scene than Jack. Anyhow, here are my impressions, mainly gathered from surfing the watch forums. On the European front, you hardly ever see modifications of those brands. (I think I’ve seen one pvd’ed Omega and that’s about it). There are tons of restorations, ranging from factory perfection to kludgie redials to clumsy hacks by resellers. It seems very difficult to find a vintage Omega SM300 that hasn’t been tampered with at some point, to take one example, but such watches meet with disdain from serious collectors, who prize originality above all else. In the luxury marques, modification really goes against the grain of the true purists and the status seekers alike.
Japanese watches are the natural vehicle for hot rodders because they have great design elements and build quality, without costing an arm and a leg. You want a solid frame that is ruggedly engineered, along with a great engine and excellent styling cues. Seikos provide all of these in spades, along with abundant parts, which is another critical element. What I’m not sure about is whether Japanese collectors have taken up the street modding hobby. They do some awesome work on the Z-cars and Skyline GT-Rs, but I hear very little about the modded watch scene over there.
May 27th, 2007 at 10:05 am
[…] The graphic design on the watch dial is in line with Italian design ideals. Writing about Giorgetto Girgiaro, who also designed many Seiko watches, (click here for a GMT+9 article related to Girgiaro) Toni del Renzio says in Contemporary Designers (St. James Press, 1990): Italian design . . . has, in the main, been a search after the appropriate without settling for the banal and the unadventurous. […]