Vacheron Constantin's New Clock
La Quête du Temps is a seven-year collaboration which led to the most ambitious automaton of our time.
I don’t know what exactly I am here to tell you, but this clock feels so audacious, so completely insane in the best possible way, that I felt compelled to say something. I guess every major outlet has already had their say, so really, what is left to discuss? I guess I will figure it out along the way… but first, take a look for yourself:
I recently spoke of Ismail al-Jazari’s water clocks in SDC Weekly, and it made me smile when I saw the review of this clock on SJX referenced those as well. How apropos, and damn you, Andrew! This clock is what you get when human ambition crashes into mechanical genius and creates something that transcends its own category entirely. Seven years in the making, 6,293 components, standing over a metre tall and weighing somewhere between 150 and 250 kilograms1 … of pure horological theatre. This is a mechanical symphony that makes Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey feel understated (no offense!).

Beneath a glass dome, hand-painted with the exact constellations visible over Geneva on September 17th, 17552, a bronze figure dubbed the Astronomer traces the path of the moon, gazes at the stars, then points to suspended scales showing the time in a choreographed performance lasting around 90 seconds.

François Junod, the automaton maker who brought this bronze philosopher to life, called it “by far the most difficult project he had ever undertaken.” No sh1t sir; I’d imagine that when you’re dealing with 158 cams controlling 144 distinct gestures, and each movement is programmed to within a few millimetres, you’re quite close to creating mechanical consciousness, as it were.
The VC website dedicated to La Quête du Temps3 states:
To mark its 270th Anniversary, Vacheron Constantin presents La Quête du Temps, a mechanical marvel and a tribute to the Maison’s legacy seven years in the making. Monumental in scope, this clock explores the intimate connections between time, the cosmos and human ingenuity, building on a tradition that goes back to Antiquity. This endeavour also inspired the new Métiers d’Art Tribute to the Quest of Time, a double-sided wristwatch that translates the ambitions of La Quête du Temps into a wearable format.
To be fair, I think this clock kinda does embody the fundamental human drive to understand our place in the cosmos. The Astronomer, standing there with arms raised to the heavens, is like a bronze meditation on humanity’s quest to measure, comprehend, and find meaning in the passage of moments. I watched dozens of videos on Instagram where people were sharing this clock in action, and aside from hearing how good this clock sounds, I noticed several people just standing around it, completely mesmerised by what they were seeing.

It reminded me of those moments in cinema when directors like Terrence Malick or Christopher Nolan pause the narrative to show us the vastness of space and our tiny place within it. Except here, Vacheron Constantin has built that philosophical moment into metal and crystal, powered by springs, cogs, chains and gears.

The clock’s base features a lapis lazuli inlay depicting our solar system, with each planet represented by carefully chosen gemstones; Earth is rendered in azurite and malachite, Mars in red jasper, etc. I don’t know if this will ever be sold to private individuals, but it would be like having the entire universe condensed into one mechanical poem sitting in your drawing room, as I’d imagine the people who might buy such an object would definitely have drawing rooms in their homes.
These days we’re all accustomed to seeing luxury houses play it rather safe with heritage reissues or minor variations on established themes, so it really is excellent for us, horology nerds, that Vacheron Constantin has done something wonderfully, magnificently bonkers. This thing is a 270-year love letter to human curiosity which happens to tell the time as a bonus.

The project required astronomers from the Geneva Observatory, the automaton wizard François Junod, clockmakers from L'Épée 1839, and composer Woodkid to create the musical stuff. This is basically Harry Winston’s Opus project on horse steroids, a testament to the power of établissage, and the kind of collaborative madness that reminds everyone why Swiss haute horlogerie became legendary in the first place.
The technical specifications may not be of interest to you, but for what it’s worth, they include a tourbillon with an 18.8mm balance wheel, five barrels providing 15 days of power reserve, and a three-dimensional moon phase accurate for 110 years. You’d be right in thinking they aren’t of much interest, because I think those numbers are beside the main point, which is that VC’s real achievement is successfully building something that makes watch lovers believe in magic.
I’d say the decision to debut La Quête du Temps at the Louvre’s Mécaniques d’Art exhibition feels rather fitting. This isn’t a watch which should be hidden in some rich guy’s drawing room; it is a cultural artefact which deserves to be seen and appreciated alongside other great mechanical achievements of human civilisation. Standing next to historic automata and astronomical instruments dating back centuries, it becomes clear that this clock is more a representation of continuity than novelty. The same impulse that drove 18th-century clockmakers to create mechanical magic for royalty, lives on in this bronze Astronomer gesturing at the sky.
I for one hope it eventually makes its way to the Science Museum in London too. I really love seeing mechanical art presented in a context that celebrates human ingenuity as opposed to the usual luxury consumption lens.
From the videos I’ve seen online, the musical component adds another layer of magic. Woodkid’s composition plays through a metallophone and wah-wah tubes hidden in the base. When seeing it in action, I felt the music gave the Astronomer’s movements emotional weight; something that speaks to the soul rather than just the observer’s intellect.
Look, I get that we live in an age of smartwatches, atomic timekeeping, Grand Seiko ultra-fine-adjusted spring drives and even sharks with (frikken’) laser beams attached to them. In that context, VC’s La Quête du Temps really is a defiant celebration of human creativity and technical mastery. It excites me to see that we can still produce objects of such wonder.
In 270 years, if future historians study our era, they will see a civilisation that, even in the face of a digital tsunami, still valued the ancient art of making time visible through metal, crystal, and human ingenuity. Maybe I just had a good day, but right now, that alone gives me hope for what humans might create next.
I’ve seen mixed reports,
Supposedly the day Vacheron Constantin was founded
Translation: “The Quest for Time”
Been waiting for your two cents worth on this magnificent accomplishment….. I knew it wouldn’t take long 🧐🤓😝
Seriously though some great additional perspective commentary ….. This thing is just mind-boggling! 🫣🤯😱