It is important for me not only to create watches with a Russian soul and promote these meanings within the country, but also to constantly present them abroad. Our national character also includes a habit of figuring many things out on our own. I built the manufacture in Moscow, rather than transplanting it into a ready-made ecosystem. It is more difficult, but identity is born when you invent your own, rather than repeating someone else’s.

Konstantin Chaykin — a world-renowned watchmaker, full member of the Académie Horlogère des Créateurs Indépendants (AHCI), laureate of the Grand Prix d’Horlogerie de Genève (GPHG), and recipient of the World Intellectual Property Organization (WIPO) Gold Medal for Inventors. In an interview with The Axis, he spoke about the fusion of tradition and innovation, about timepieces created for future generations, the importance of teamwork, and about mechanisms capable of responding to their owner's emotions.

— You started with creating the first tourbillon in Russia for a table clock (2003−2004). Why did you choose this particular path instead of something simpler?

— 'I want to declare Russian culture,' you say. How does the national character shape your works?

— Your works carry cultural and religious codes: "Paschalia," "Astrolabe," "Martian." Who do you create them for — for contemporaries or for future generations?

— Do you strive to prove that Russia is capable of competing with Swiss masters?

— Looking back at myself twenty-two years ago, I realize it was bold. I was captivated by the challenge itself: haute horlogerie didn’t exist in Russia, tourbillons hadn’t been made here for almost two hundred years. I had no experience even in creating a simple movement, but I had engineering skills. Making a watch with two hands seemed boring. I wanted to create something significant right away, even if it was risky. That’s how the idea of the tourbillon came about. I worked for almost a year—from the autumn of 2003 until 2004. That start set the standard and defined the future trajectory of my development.

— Russia is not just geography. It’s an intertwining of meanings, images, and crafts. I consciously work with national themes and materials—from damask steel to architectural allusions. In the 'Northern Paschalia,' I reinterpreted the main dome as an Easter egg.

— For both. I have many astronomical timepieces. The "Paschalia" was conceived not for years, but for millennia. The Orthodox Paschalion is based on a 532-year cycle; each mechanism is equipped with a perpetual calendar and a counter up to the year 9999. It was important for me to "package" this mathematics of ancient traditions and astronomy into the form of a watch that will outlive us. They are designed for continuity; these are museum-level objects, so that descendants would preserve them, admire their finishing, and — most importantly — read in them the language of Russian culture and Orthodox tradition.

— First and foremost, I want to make watches honestly, without "geographical discounts." One must compete with ideas and quality of execution. I strive to create things without looking back at others. An example is the ThinKing watch. This is not a "competition of flags," but a struggle with the limits of the possible.

"The Astrolabe" is my answer to the question of whether it’s possible to combine emotion and "heavy astronomy." It has 17 complications, 11 of which are astronomical. And the Martian watches, including the wristwatch with a Martian tourbillon, are an invitation to a future where humanity already lives on the Red Planet and lives by its time. Of course, all of this is created for contemporaries, but it is conceived to remain understandable and significant tomorrow as well.

— How did you come up with the anthropomorphic watches from the "Wristmons" collection: "Joker," "Clown," and others?

— Tell us about your creative process. How are watches born — from sketches to the finished movement?

— In 2023-2025, you presented the "Martian" (Martian Tourbillon) and the ultra-thin ThinKing. How do you balance fantasy, technology, and craftsmanship?

— In 2023, the manufacture celebrated its twentieth anniversary with the release of the "Astrolabe." What did this experience give you?

— In 2013, I brought the "Cinema" model to BaselWorld with a built-in mechanical movie camera. It featured a complication that reproduced the filming of a galloping horse, "Sallie Gardner at a Gallop." And I saw people’s reaction: besides the approval from specialists, there was genuine emotion from the audience. That’s when the idea emerged for watches with a dial-face, one that evokes a smile and mirrors the wearer’s mood.

In 2017, I brought the first "Joker" — and it turned out I was right. The Wristmon smiles at people, and people smile back at it.

— The "Martian Tourbillon" began as a charitable project for the OnlyWatch auction: a tourbillon carriage rotating at the speed of a Martian minute, plus a Martian calendar. This is not just fantasy, but science fiction filtered through mechanics.

— You hold over 100 patents. Why is it important to invent "anew each time" rather than repeat?

— My first patent was for the "Orthodox Paschalion." In January 2025, I received my hundredth patent. For me, they are not trophies to be framed, but a language of technical creativity. It is a way to record new knowledge, my contribution to the mechanics of time.

— Your watches are investments, design objects, family heirlooms. Which ones will become iconic?

— I believe my opus magnum is still ahead. Among what I have created, I would single out three lines: "Wristmons," as an example of how emotion can change the language of time display; complex astronomical watches like the "Astrolabe"; and the space program—from watches that have been in outer space to Martian ones. I would add the "Paschalia" and ThinKing—proof that the most complex watchmaking is possible in Russia.

— Is there a watch in your life that has become a family heirloom?

— In 2003, for my father’s fiftieth birthday, I made a gold watch. It was my first personal project, after which I couldn’t stop. For our family, it is both a keepsake and a starting point.

— Asteroid Chaykin (301522) is a symbol that transcends the boundaries of watchmaking.

— That is a very heartwarming symbol. I am grateful to astronomer Leonid Elenin for naming an asteroid after me. A name in orbit serves as a reminder: time and celestial mechanics are connected. For a watchmaker, this is the best metaphor.

ThinKing is the other extreme. They are the thinnest watches in the world. To create them, I had to learn all over again, to research new materials and technologies. Working on them required reaching a completely different level of craftsmanship.

Author:

— I always have a Moleskine notebook at hand, where I jot down ideas, sketch out designs, and draft component schematics. Promising ideas I patent. They then evolve into a technical specification and are passed on to the designers. We create a 3D model of the movement, mock-ups of the parts, followed by technical drawings and documentation. The next stage is a prototype, which helps identify any flaws. And only after that does a new watch come to life.

— The Astrolabe is the result of an evolution of knowledge, the quintessence of twenty years of work and my three favorite directions: anthropomorphism, complexity, and astronomy. It contains 17 complications — a record for Russian wristwatches.

— You are the only Russian member and former president of the AHCI. What does this mean for Russian watchmaking art?

— In the spring of 2025, another Russian, Anton Sukhanov, was accepted as a member of the AHCI. He worked for many years as a designer and production manager with me. His election is my pride. Now the "Russian voice" is heard more clearly within the community of independent watchmakers. The AHCI is not about brands, it is about creators. For Russia, it is important that we have a direct channel of communication with this environment, an exchange of experience, and trust.

— You are a self-taught watchmaker. How did your early passion for radio electronics influence you?

— Engineering thinking grew out of childhood curiosity. Radio technology, a soldering iron, fox hunting. All of this trained my hands and mind. I learned to measure, test, and see things through to a result. It taught me not to fear complex tasks and to solve them without hints.

— How do you perceive yourself in the role of a creator representing Russia on the world stage? Do you feel pressure?

— Responsibility — yes, pressure — no. I consciously build production in Russia, solving complex problems here. For me, people are more important than machines: without a team, an idea cannot be realized. Global recognition is a consequence of the quality of work, not loud words.

— Your watches are called "objects with a soul." What does that mean?

— The soul must be invested at all levels: from the idea and the mathematics of the movement to the polishing of the parts. A watch must keep accurate time, but it should also "speak" to its owner.
— What is more valuable — perfect movement performance or emotion?
— Both. Only in combination are beautiful things born.

— How do you teach a person to value time in a world where everything is accelerating?

— Faulkner has a character who says: 'I give you a watch not so you will keep time, but so you will sometimes forget it.' In my understanding, a watch is not a gadget, but a tool for experiencing time. If the owner, looking at their wristwatch or tourbillon, remembers at least once a day that time is life, then we have done everything right.