If you are reading this story online, it might come with a note that gives you an estimated amount of time to read it, from start to finish. Fair warning here: this is a long story but it is merely a summary of a tale many centuries long. That said, time is relative so there is no objectively long or short of it for all observers, independent of a shared frame of reference. Imagine if you had to consider what time of year it was and the attendant season, before you could know how long an estimate was…

And do not even get started on minutes and seconds – getting those right beyond an approximate were beyond the abilities of watchmakers until the industrial revolution. Besides, while we tend to think of time in discrete and standardised segments, not all cultures agreed about this. In fact, it is very much a phenomenon associated with the aforementioned industrial revolution, and whenever that happened to a specific society. 

It is for this reason, amongst many others admittedly, that art is more reliable in informing us about the particularities of cultures, societies and nations. Art in general — whatever the form — has been and remains the key pillar of cultures throughout history.

Horology and art share numerous similarities, and on closer examination, it is no surprise why. At its heart, art is the expression and reflection of something that is considered a unifying and universal standard; it is often the cultural embodiment of the society from which it comes; the beauty within often comes through in the diversity of its expression. 

While the general perception is that Switzerland is the Mecca of all things horology — for any watch aficionado, visiting places like Le Locle, Geneva and the Vallée de Joux in the Jura Mountains often feels like a religious pilgrimage of sorts — there is not only one centre of fine watchmaking.

Zooming out, the Swiss are not the only reference point for horology – consider that Thomas Mudge was British and Christiaan Huygens was Dutch, and then add in Harrison, Lepine and yes, Breguet too, for yet more context. History is the lifeblood of this very specific issue of WOW, after all. On that note, it is about time (no pun intended) that we added some Asian names into the mix. 

Japan, too, is an artistic treasure trove — in the modern day, Japanese songs and movies are the embodiment of the fine craft, innovation and attention to detail that characterises much of what Japanese culture stands for. For instance, Hayao Miyazaki’s Studio Ghibli movies are beloved everywhere for their intricately-detailed, sublime animation, moving musical soundtracks, and emotion-stirring narratives.

While that is a very narrow example that leaves to one side the commanding contributions of Kurosawa, Mizoguchi and Ozu exclusively in the realm of cinema, there are just too many Japanese creators to cite. In music, would we have K-Pop without J-Pop, and what would the late Ryuichi Sakamoto have had to say about it all? And do not get us started on architecture – just Google famous Japanese architects and see what comes up. 

Unsurprisingly, the most powerful characteristics of Japanese art also translate into Japanese watchmaking — a closer scrutiny of its history reveals much more beyond the contemporary stereotype of mass-produced and thus affordable timepieces. While we are sure you already know that, in order to situate the birth of Japanese horology, one must go on a trip back in time.

Fog Of Time

The first jump back into Japan’s horological past takes us all the way back to the Asuka period — one of significant social change for the Japanese. Picture the scene: the country is renamed “Dai Nippon” (Great Japan), social reform is taking place, new forms of art are being created, and new styles of architecture are beginning to see the light of day — with these changes comes a refreshed sense of creativity and optimism, in which Japan’s first device to measure time is created. 

According to the Japan Watch & Clock Association, which quotes the Nihon-shoki (Chronicles of Japan), this device was produced in 671, with Emperor Tenji developing a water clock called the Ro-koku — Japan’s first clock. However, there also exists a description stating that a similar clock was developed by then-Crown Prince Naka no e (who became Emperor Tenji) in 660.

Given that both are referred to as firsts, and there has been no known relationship established between the two devices, the 660 example of the Ro-koku stands as Japan’s first officially-documented example of a working clock; it helps that the creator is the same person of course.

Considering how this period laid the foundations of some aspects of Japanese culture that endure even today — especially in the areas of art and architecture — it would not be unreasonable to argue that this device’s invention introduced a notion of accurate timekeeping into Japanese culture. 

Today, the significance of time is prevalent everywhere across the nation: look no further than the to-the-second punctuality of the Japanese rail system to see how central precise timekeeping is to culture and society. It is considered an egregious transgression for trains – and people – to run late, and rail staff have been known to bow profusely to commuters in apology for such occurrences. Such apologies are not seen anywhere else, and offer a revealing image of how crucial accurate timekeeping is in the Japanese cultural context.

Temporal Hours

The next stop of note in this tour of Japan’s horological history comes during the Edo Period, in the mid-16th century. Yes, that is a big gap but nothing of horological significance happens until the European age of discovery was in full swing. Christian missionaries began arriving, wowing the Shogunate with science, mathematics and, of course, mechanical clocks. They even began teaching the Japanese how to make clocks, organs and astronomical instruments.

However, given also that the Edo Period was characterised by an isolationist foreign policy and strict social order, it comes as no surprise that clocks during this period expressed time in a different way compared to the West. Recall how we started this article because the reason for it is about to become apparent.

During the Edo Period, time was expressed differently from anywhere else, in a “temporal hour system,” where a day was divided into the sunlit part and the part in darkness, and further divided into six segments. These clocks were unique to Japan, as the lengths of days and nights in the summer and winter seasons varied, and thus necessitated a complicated mechanism in order to account for these seasonal variations.

While these clocks became obsolete by the late 19th century, they served as a demonstration of Japanese clock makers’ ability to manufacture complicated timekeeping mechanisms, despite the challenge of inconsistent seasonal lengths. 

This system remained until 1872, when the Japanese temporal hour system was changed to the West’s standardised system (a result of the shift from the lunar calendar to the solar calendar during the Meiji Restoration), heralding the active introduction of Western clock production technology, and the significant improvement in technical skill of Japanese industry overall, which includes watchmaking of course. Today, we can still see how these early steps shaped watchmaking, thanks to Seiko (see the brand’s story for details). Overall, industry was abuzz with activity right up into the Taisho and early Showa Periods.

Industry and Craftsmanship

However, the Japanese horological industry began to lag behind their Swiss counterparts in terms of development, no thanks to World War II. While the Swiss completed the development of self-winding watches, successfully field-tested their dust and water resistant systems, developed and incorporated the use of non-magnetic mainsprings, and made shock-resistant movements widely available, the Japanese had to face the consequences of their militaristic misadventure.

These included, but were not limited to, damaged machines, unavailable or poor-quality materials, poor power supply, and labour issues. All of this and more saw the industry shrink by 60% for watches, and 30% for clocks. The coming Economic Miracle of the 20th century would offer remedies though.

Today, as a consequence, the landscape is markedly different. By 1975, the Quartz Revolution (otherwise known as the Quartz Crisis) that began in Switzerland but was largely marshalled and powered by Japanese industry almost swept away traditional watchmaking everywhere, from Geneva to Boston. The irony is that this was what the advent of replaceable parts, pushed by the Swiss and Americans, did to the French watchmaking trade in the 19th century. Granted, Swiss brands have since made a rip-roaring recovery of their own from the last crisis, especially in the past decade, but Japanese watchmaking is no longer playing catch-up, considering the number of Swiss brands that have incorporated Japanese-style craftsmanship into some of their releases. 

For instance, Japanese Urushi lacquer has been incorporated by the likes of Chopard, Bvlgari and Kari Voutilainen in their watches. A material so highly prized that even Marie Antoinette herself had a special cabinet to house her precious Urushi lacquerware, its labour-intensive production requires precision and patience at every step. Urushi lacquer uses a varnish obtained from the Urushi tree, which in raw form is allergenic (somewhat like poison ivy) before it is treated. Once safe to handle, it is then applied successively in fine layers, and dried under highly specific conditions: a temperature between 25 and 30ºC, and a humidity level between 75 and 80%. 

Towards the Future

Some of these watches, such as Chopard’s 2024 L.U.C XP Urushi Year of the Dragon, are also decorated with the maki-e technique, a 1,500-year-old art that involves sprinkling the still-wet lacquer with fine particles of gold and silver, inlaying mother-of-pearl, or spraying gold, silver or copper flakes, before being set in place with further layers of lacquer. Application is done through the use of bamboo tubes and brushes (traditionally made of rat’s hair), producing extremely fine lines that necessitate the expertise of a master to execute. 

Of course, we have covered many fine examples from Grand Seiko over the years, including last year’s spectacular SBGW295, which demonstrates both hand-applied urushi and maki-e (more details on this watch are in the Grand Seiko subsection). The fine artistry, innovation and technical ability that such crafts demand in the service of watchmaking, where dials offer unreasonably tiny working spaces, reflect the key characteristics that have undergirded Japan’s horological history, and that have helped Japanese watchmaking transcend borders and cultures. 

It is tempting to draw conclusions about watchmaking in Japan based on what little information we have managed to scour, and the fraction that is presented in these pages. It is nice when a story has a point, after all. Then again, perhaps the point is that there is none – or that there are many. This section, while it covers the basics, does not even begin to tackle independent watchmaking in Japan, to cite just one inadequacy. As usual, that demon known as ‘space,’ constrains us but perhaps this is not most relevant point.

In our general introduction to Swiss watchmaking regions in 2022, we did not bother with even an attempt at closing thoughts. Given that we are discussing practices and crafts that are very much alive, why should there be any thoughts about conclusions? So, if we leave you with anything here, it is perhaps only a sense of how more there is to learn. We hope only to stoke the fires of your curiosity, and we will definitely be back for seconds.

Seiko

History is where Seiko comes in because it is literally in first place as far as extant Japanese brands are concerned. For collectors and enthusiasts, the Seiko 5 probably holds a special place in their personal stories because it was likely the first mechanical watch for so many of us. Even those who skipped it (missed out really) will not have been able to escape the heft of its cultural significance. Seiko is also one of three brands acknowledged by no less than Wikipedia as being fully vertically integrated – we will get to the second one soon enough. 

Founded by Kintaro Hattori, who began selling and repairing watches and clocks in Tokyo, Seiko — or Seikosha, as it was known then — made its first pocket watch in 1895. Some 18 years later, in 1913, Hattori’s spirit of innovation properly came to the fore in the form of the Laurel (below), which was Japan’s first wristwatch.

Given the popularity of pocket watches at the time, such a move would have been considered brave to say the least, but this set the tone for what Seiko was to deliver in the following years. It is worth noting that most Western watchmakers did not adopt the wristwatch until after World War 1, when military men began strapping pocket watches onto their wrists. 

Seiko did have some noteworthy technological milestones from 1930 to 1960 — the 1956 implementation of the Diashock shock-resistance system and the 1959 release of the Gyro Marvel come to mind. The former is self-explanatory: Seiko began using shock-resistant devices in their timepieces, while the latter was the watchmaker’s first self-winding watch equipped with the now-famous “magic lever” system, that more efficiently transmitted the power generated from the oscillating weight in both directions. We call this bi-directional winding these days.

That said, Seiko began to be recognised as a global watchmaking force in the period of 1960-1980. The 1960s, in particular, saw Seiko debut the first Japanese stopwatch-equipped wristwatch and first Japanese dive watch, following its stint as Official Timer of the 1964 Tokyo Olympics. The latter part of the 1960s, however saw Seiko truly rise to prominence as it made waves at the various Swiss observatory chronometry trials.

Competing alongside the likes of Girard-Perregaux, Omega and Longines, 1967 saw Seiko’s best finishes in the Neuchâtel Observatory’s chronometer trials, in a highly respectable second and third places, only behind Omega. Following the competition’s cancellation the next year, Seiko participated in the Observatory of Geneva’s Concours de Genève competition, where the firm took fourth to 10th place in the wristwatch movement category.

Subsequently, the Observatory of Geneva also cancelled their competition. Although it has never been proven to be the deciding reason why (the official reasoning being the advent of quartz movements functioning at frequencies that could not be obtained by mechanical watches), there exist stories of Swiss brands threatening to boycott the trials following Seiko’s outstanding performances in the competitions.

In 1969, Seiko kickstarted the Quartz Revolution with the release of the world’s first quartz wristwatch, the Quartz-Astron, which retailed for Y450,000 at the time, according to Seiko’s own archives. Boasting significantly greater accuracy than any mechanical watches, Seiko spearheaded this horological innovation and did the one thing that no Western firm would – make it affordable, eventually.

Thus, it was Japan that brought time to more people’s wrists and homes (via quartz-powered clocks) than any other nation. Realistically though, quartz was always going to get cheaper and its accuracy was not going to be negatively impacted to any significant degree. If Japanese watchmakers had not embraced this reality, some other group of producers would have. 

The 1980s saw Seiko continue to build on the LCD technology it had developed in the previous decade, producing the world’s first TV, voice recording, and wrist computers. In 1999, Seiko introduced the very first Spring Drive movement — yet another major innovation.

Combining a mechanical movement with the quartz crystal regulator from a quartz movement (in place of the traditional escapement of the mechanical watch and the battery of its electronic counterpart), this union of the best of both worlds saw the creation of a movement that was exceptionally quiet, with a second-hand glide mesmerizingly smooth like no other.

This movement was further improved in 2005 in the Cal. 9R65, offering a power reserve of 72 hours. This movement paved the way for 9R01 in 2016, and the 9R65 movements Grand Seiko uses today. As befits its status as its own entity, we will address Grand Seiko in its own subsection.

Beyond just Grand Seiko, Seiko also has a luxury dress watch arm in Credor — arguably where Seiko’s most complicated watchmaking takes place. Credor unveiled the Spring Drive Sonnerie in Credor — arguably where Seiko’s most complicated watchmaking takes place. Credor unveiled the Spring Drive Sonnerie in 2006, combining the renowned Spring Drive movement with an hour repeater function, followed up in 2011 with a Spring Drive Minute Repeater.

In 2016, the Fugaku was released as Seiko’s first tourbillon watch in yet another showcase of watchmaking savoir-faire. Given Seiko’s more than 100 years of history and rich heritage, it is impossible to include every single achievement and innovation in this story. Indeed, it is not even possible to list every aspect of Seiko’s business operations here, including the complicated subject of Seiko-Epson (more on that elsewhere, but still not anything close to all). If anything, Seiko’s courageous spirit of daring innovation through the years has set the tone for the rest of the Japanese horological industry. The company really is living up to its One Step Ahead of the Rest motto. Long may it continue to do so.

This article has been condensed as part 1 of a 4 part story from WOW’s Festive 2024 Issue entitled “Yen For Precision”.

This story was first seen as part of the WOW #76 Festive 2024 Issue

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