Join CHRONOHOLIC today!
All the watch news, reviews, videos you want, brought to you from fellow collectors
All the watch news, reviews, videos you want, brought to you from fellow collectors
April 10, 1971 – Le Brassus, Switzerland
At the heart of Vallée de Joux, a crisp morning breeze rustles through the trees lining the driveway, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. A 39-year-old man stands motionless at the entrance, staring ahead. The grand office building at the end of the path is imposing yet familiar, its presence a silent witness to decades of horological mastery. The sky is clear, the world serene - but inside him, a storm rages.
The previous night has been a blur. A sudden, urgent call from the managing director of one of Switzerland’s most revered watchmakers shattered his quiet evening. The request was audacious - almost absurd.
“We need a watch design… but not just any watch. It must be avant-garde. It must captivate the world. It must change everything and all preconceived notions about luxury watchmaking. And we need it by morning tomorrow before the Basel Fair.”
The voice on the other end had been calm, almost expectant, as if asking for the impossible is simply another part of the job.
For hours, he had sat alone, the glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. There was no time for hesitation, no room for doubt. His pencil had moved instinctively, guided by a vision that took form before he even realised it. An octagonal bezel, held in place with exposed screws - bold, industrial, yet refined. A case and bracelet that flow seamlessly into one another, not as separate elements but integrated as one.
It is inspired by a diver’s helmet - a piece of equipment built for strength and precision, each bolt in place for a purpose. This watch will be the same. A defiant challenge to the times, proving that steel can be as luxurious as gold, that tradition can embrace modernity without fear.
But that was last night.
Now, standing at the gates, the certainty of creation gives way to something far more profound - doubt.
His mind drifts back to another time, to the golden years when his Polerouter was lauded, when he designed for the industry’s greatest names. His watches were admired, cherished. But had they changed anything?
Is this the moment that will define him? Or the one that will undo him?
The wind picks up slightly, rustling the leaves. The clock is ticking.
With a deep breath, he straightens his posture. The fatigue of the all-nighter fades. The uncertainty, the hesitation - they no longer matter.
His steps quicken as he crosses the tree-lined path. The building looms ahead, its sign now unmistakable:
AUDEMARS PIGUET & CIE
His heart pounds, but his stride does not falter. And then suddenly, a smile forms on his face, calm, assured, as if he has just made peace with fate itself. The smile of a watchmaker who knows, in his heart of hearts: He is about to change the face of horology, not just for Basel Fair 1971, but forever…
He reaches the reception desk, offering a composed nod to the woman behind it.
“Hello, I’m here for my 8 o’clock meeting with Georges Golay.”
She scans the logbook, then looks up. “I cannot seem to find an 8 o’clock meeting on Georges’ calendar… but he did ask to keep his morning free. Who should I say is here to meet him… and the purpose?”
“I am here to show Georges Golay the design for a steel sports watch. My name… is Gérald Genta.”
April 10, 1971 – Le Brassus, Switzerland
At the heart of Vallée de Joux, a crisp morning breeze rustles through the trees lining the driveway, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. A 39-year-old man stands motionless at the entrance, staring ahead. The grand office building at the end of the path is imposing yet familiar, its presence a silent witness to decades of horological mastery. The sky is clear, the world serene - but inside him, a storm rages.
The previous night has been a blur. A sudden, urgent call from the managing director of one of Switzerland’s most revered watchmakers shattered his quiet evening. The request was audacious - almost absurd.
“We need a watch design… but not just any watch. It must be avant-garde. It must captivate the world. It must change everything and all preconceived notions about luxury watchmaking. And we need it by morning tomorrow before the Basel Fair.”
The voice on the other end had been calm, almost expectant, as if asking for the impossible is simply another part of the job.
For hours, he had sat alone, the glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. There was no time for hesitation, no room for doubt. His pencil had moved instinctively, guided by a vision that took form before he even realised it. An octagonal bezel, held in place with exposed screws - bold, industrial, yet refined. A case and bracelet that flow seamlessly into one another, not as separate elements but integrated as one.
It is inspired by a diver’s helmet - a piece of equipment built for strength and precision, each bolt in place for a purpose. This watch will be the same. A defiant challenge to the times, proving that steel can be as luxurious as gold, that tradition can embrace modernity without fear.
But that was last night.
Now, standing at the gates, the certainty of creation gives way to something far more profound - doubt.
His mind drifts back to another time, to the golden years when his Polerouter was lauded, when he designed for the industry’s greatest names. His watches were admired, cherished. But had they changed anything?
Is this the moment that will define him? Or the one that will undo him?
The wind picks up slightly, rustling the leaves. The clock is ticking.
With a deep breath, he straightens his posture. The fatigue of the all-nighter fades. The uncertainty, the hesitation - they no longer matter.
His steps quicken as he crosses the tree-lined path. The building looms ahead, its sign now unmistakable:
AUDEMARS PIGUET & CIE
His heart pounds, but his stride does not falter. And then suddenly, a smile forms on his face, calm, assured, as if he has just made peace with fate itself. The smile of a watchmaker who knows, in his heart of hearts: He is about to change the face of horology, not just for Basel Fair 1971, but forever…
He reaches the reception desk, offering a composed nod to the woman behind it.
“Hello, I’m here for my 8 o’clock meeting with Georges Golay.”
She scans the logbook, then looks up. “I cannot seem to find an 8 o’clock meeting on Georges’ calendar… but he did ask to keep his morning free. Who should I say is here to meet him… and the purpose?”
“I am here to show Georges Golay the design for a steel sports watch. My name… is Gérald Genta.”
.jpg)
.jpg)
