Guido Benedini is one of the most interesting voices in contemporary independent watchmaking, because he does not speak about watches as objects alone, but as tools with a purpose. As CEO of Watch Angels, he has helped shape a platform that treats research, design and community input as part of the same process, and the new Watch Angels x Alpina Startimer Pilot IFR Chronograph captures that mindset perfectly.
In this interview, we speak with him about the thinking behind one of the year’s most inventive pilot watches, the challenge of translating IFR procedure into a mechanical complication, and the shared ambition that brings Watch Angels and Alpina together.
- Watch Angels describes itself as both a platform and an R&D lab. In practice, what does a normal working week look like for you, and how does the community actually shape a project like this one?
A normal week at Watch Angels is probably more chaotic, and more interesting, than people imagine. We are simultaneously discussing movement construction with suppliers, analysing feedback from customers, refining storytelling, reviewing prototypes, and debating details that most brands would never expose to a community.
What makes the model unique is that the community is not treated as a marketing audience after the watch is finished. They are involved much earlier, often at the conceptual stage. In practice, that means we can test reactions, challenge assumptions, and understand very quickly whether an idea resonates emotionally and horologically.
With the IFR project, for example, the community immediately reacted to the fact that this was not simply another pilot watch aesthetic. The idea of translating a real aviation procedure into a mechanical complication created genuine curiosity because collectors understood that this had probably never been attempted before.
At the same time, the R&D aspect is very real. Many ideas sound exciting in theory, but once you start working on tolerances, gearing, usability, legibility, reliability, and production feasibility, the challenge becomes enormous. So our role is often to sit exactly between imagination and execution: preserving the originality of an idea while making sure it can exist as a serious Swiss mechanical watch.
What I enjoy most is that the process becomes much more alive. Instead of developing with the constraints of a brand just a brand we create horological stories in an ongoing dialogue between engineers, designers, watchmakers, and customers. That exchange often pushes projects further than a traditional structure would allow.
- Holding patterns are a very specific, very niche piece of aviation procedure. How did you land on that particular problem to solve, and at what point did you realise it could actually be translated into a mechanical watch?
What made holding patterns interesting to us was precisely the fact that they are highly standardized. In aviation, if you want to translate something into mechanics, you need fixed rules, fixed variables, and a repeatable logic. Otherwise, it becomes impossible to mechanise in a meaningful way.
A holding pattern is actually a perfect example of that. Wherever you are in the world, the procedure follows the same structure. The pilot always knows key inputs such as the inbound course and the aircraft heading, and from those variables the correct entry procedure can be determined. That predictability is what made us realise there was a possibility to transform the logic into a mechanical system.
At the same time, we deliberately wanted to work on a phase of flight that carries genuine complexity. Holding patterns happen during moments of high workload and require spatial reasoning, timing, and procedural discipline. From a mechanical perspective, that challenge made the project fascinating.
But for us, the appeal goes beyond pure utility. In fact, the niche nature of the procedure is part of what makes the watch emotionally compelling for collectors. Mechanical watchmaking has always celebrated highly specific feats of engineering, not because every owner necessarily needs them every day, but because they represent human ingenuity translated into mechanics.
What fascinated us was the idea that a mechanical watch could physically embody a real aviation logic. Not imitate aviation stylistically, but actually process part of a standardized flight procedure through gears, discs, and moving components. That creates a very different emotional connection for collectors.
So the true significance of the IFR is not simply that it helps visualise a holding entry. It is that it demonstrates that even a highly technical and specialised aviation procedure can be expressed mechanically on the wrist. For us, that is what makes the watch unique from a horological and collector perspective.
- You call the IFR system a “habillage complication” because it lives in the case rather than the movement. Was that a deliberate design philosophy from the start, or did the engineering lead you there?
Calling the IFR system a “habillage complication” is the result of engineering realities, but it also a very deliberate watchmaking philosophy which is at the heart of many Watch Angels projects, like for example the Bühlmann Decompression 02.
We knew that developing a fully integrated movement complication would have dramatically increased both development time and cost. You move into an entirely different world of prototyping, industrialisation, reliability testing, and production complexity. Realistically, the watch would likely have ended up costing several times more, falling outside the Alpina price range, and would probably not have been achievable within a reasonable timeframe for a collaboration of this nature.
What became interesting, however, was that by placing the complication within the habillage, the interaction between the case components, bezel, apertures, and displays, we actually gained something creatively and emotionally very powerful.
Traditional movement complications are often mechanically extraordinary, but much of their complexity remains hidden under the dial. With the IFR system, the complication becomes visible, interactive, and almost architectural. The user physically manipulates the system, aligns information, reads the result through apertures, and engages directly with the mechanics of the procedure. In that sense, the complication becomes part of the watch’s visual identity and not only its technical specification.
That was very important to us because pilot watches are fundamentally instrument watches. Their beauty comes from functional clarity and interaction. The IFR system therefore does not sit invisibly inside the movement, it shapes the entire aesthetic language of the watch.
In the end, we realised that the project was actually stronger this way. The habillage became the complication itself. It allowed us to create something mechanically original, visually distinctive, interactive for the wearer, and still accessible at a price level that remains surprisingly attainable considering the uniqueness of the concept.
- The bidirectional bezel and the inner multi-level dial ring work both independently and together. Can you walk us through the mechanical logic of that coupling system in plain language?
The logic of the system is based on the fact that we need to “dial-in” two directions, using the 360° compass bezel: the heading of the plane into the fix point of the holding pattern (which the pilot reads from his heading indicator) and the inbound course of the holding pattern (which the pilot reads from the charts). These two directions have to align with two markers, one on the turning inner dial ring (the inbound marker) and the other on the dial (the heading). To accomplish this, you need two turning elements (the bezel and the internal réhaut) that turn together, therefore coupled (in “normal” position), or independently (when bezel pushed down). To resume: we align two different directions on the same bezel, with 2 independent markers, by turning 2 elements coupled together or independently.
- The colour-coded apertures at 12 o’clock are the pilot’s primary read-out point. How many iterations did that display system go through before you settled on orange, red and blue?
We had to make sure that the colors would contrast very well against the dial to make the type of entry reading unmistakable. In fact, and that’s in fact strange, there are no “standard” colours in IFR regulations (Instrument Flight Rules) and therefore we could choose our own going through 2 iterations.
- You chose the Sellita SW531b with the 15-minute counter variant rather than the more common 30-minute version. Was that a purely functional aviation decision, or did other factors influence the calibre choice?
The decision was absolutely driven by functionality. In a holding pattern, timing is critical because each one of the four legs is typically flown for one minute, so readability of elapsed time becomes extremely important.
With a conventional 30-minute counter, that one minute occupies a relatively small portion of the scale. By using the Sellita SW531b with the 15-minute counter configuration, the indication becomes much more expanded and therefore significantly more intuitive to read at a glance. The pilot can visualise the progression of the minute far more precisely during the procedure.
That may sound like a small detail, but those are exactly the kinds of decisions that differentiate a watch inspired by aviation from a watch genuinely designed around an aviation logic.
At the same time, we appreciated the fact that the movement already offered a very coherent pilot-watch architecture beyond the IFR complication itself. You have the chronograph, the UTC functionality, and now this highly legible 15-minute timing display working together as part of a complete flight instrument concept.
From a collector’s perspective, I think this choice is also interesting because it shows that the project was approached almost like designing a real instrument. We were not selecting components based only on convention or availability, but on whether they genuinely strengthened the functionality and coherence of the watch.
- Alpina brought the Startimer DNA and the industrial capacity; Watch Angels brought the functional R&D. Where exactly did the responsibilities meet, and were there moments of genuine disagreement on direction?
The collaboration worked very naturally because from the beginning both sides understood their respective strengths. Alpina brought the industrial infrastructure, the pilot-watch heritage, and the entire Startimer Collection platform, while Watch Angels brought the original product idea, the functional concept behind the IFR system, and the technical developement.
From the start, we deliberately wanted the watch to remain recognisably part of Alpina’s new 2026 Startimer collection, because this watch was meant to become the highlight piece of that collection . So although the IFR complication itself was entirely new, the design process was inspired by the evolving Startimer design DNA and had to remain coherent with Alpina’s identity as a serious pilot-watch manufacturer.
Once the project entered development, however, every major decision became a genuinely collaborative process. The engineering, ergonomics, usability, proportions, colours, finishes, typography, and interaction of the complication were discussed jointly and refined through many iterations.
Interestingly, there were no real disagreements in the sense of conflicting visions for the product. I think that is because everybody involved understood very clearly what made the project special from the beginning.
Where the process became most intensive, as is often the case in watchmaking, was in the refinement of the design and finishes. That is where several dimensions have to align perfectly at the same time: brand identity, collector appeal, functional clarity, aviation legitimacy, wearability, and overall positioning. A pilot watch must remain highly legible and instrumental, but at the same time it also needs emotional presence and aesthetic balance as a luxury object.
In many ways, that search for the right synthesis became the real creative challenge of the project.
- The new 2026 Startimer case language, with the bevelled and satin-polished surfaces, arrived at Watches & Wonders just before this launch. How closely did you work with Alpina’s design team to ensure the IFR system sat coherently inside that new aesthetic?
We actually developed the IFR project in parallel with Alpina’s evolution of the new 2026 Startimer design language, so there was very close collaboration from an early stage to ensure everything remained perfectly coherent.
That was extremely important to us because the IFR system is visually very present on the watch. The apertures, indications, bezel interaction, and overall dial architecture immediately become part of the identity of the piece. If those elements had felt disconnected from the new Startimer aesthetic, the watch would have lost its legitimacy as part of the collection.
So throughout the development process, we worked closely with Alpina’s design team to make sure the complication integrated naturally into the new case language, with its bevelled geometry, satin-polished contrasts, and more refined instrumental aesthetic.
What made the process particularly interesting was that the IFR complication itself also influenced certain aesthetic decisions. Because the system is interactive and highly functional, readability and ergonomics could never be sacrificed purely for styling reasons. At the same time, the watch had to retain the elegance and visual coherence expected from a modern luxury pilot watch.
In the end, what we wanted is a watch that does not feel like a standard Startimer with an extra function added afterwards, but an exceptional Startimer with an IFR system that also genuinely belongs within the new generation of the collection.
- You are targeting both working private pilots and “avgeeks.” Do those two audiences want fundamentally different things from this watch, and does the design serve both equally well?
What has been fascinating with the IFR project is that we realised quite early that it speaks to several worlds simultaneously, but for different reasons.
Working pilots tend to appreciate the watch from an operational and emotional perspective. They immediately understand the logic behind the complication, the relevance of the procedure, and the fact that the watch was clearly designed by people who genuinely thought about aviation workflows rather than simply aviation aesthetics, and for them the watch also serves as an operational back-up and verification instrument. There is also an identity aspect to it: the watch communicates a very serious and authentic pilot-watch language.
For aviation enthusiasts and “avgeeks,” the attraction is slightly different. Many of them are deeply passionate about flight procedures, instruments, cockpit culture, and aviation systems in general. For them, discovering a genuinely new pilot-watch function is exciting because pilot watches have historically focused much more on stylistic codes than on new functional developments. The design also resonates strongly because it carries that instrumental aviation character they identify with emotionally.
But there is a third audience that is equally important to us: watch collectors. Interestingly, many collectors may never use the complication operationally at all, and that is perfectly fine. What attracts them is the ingenuity of the concept and the rarity of the achievement itself.
Collectors understand that mechanical watchmaking has always been about transforming highly specific human activities into mechanical expression. In this case, the fascination comes from the fact that a real aviation procedure, something abstract and procedural, has been translated into a physical, interactive mechanical system on the wrist.
So although these audiences approach the watch differently, they are all reacting to the same core idea: authenticity and the emotion of purpose. The pilots see authentic aviation logic, the avgeeks see authentic aviation culture, and the collectors see authentic mechanical creativity and uniqueness.
- It was mentioned that Watch Angels explores functional approaches that “put utility and meaning back at the heart of watches.” Are there other aviation procedures, or indeed other fields entirely, where you see the same kind of mechanical translation being possible?
Yes, absolutely. At Watch Angels, one of the directions that increasingly interests us is the idea of functional mechanical storytelling, in other words, creating watches where the complication is not arbitrary, but rooted in a real human activity, system, or discipline.
What made the IFR project so compelling was the discovery that certain standardized procedures can actually be translated into mechanics in a very elegant way. Once you understand that principle, you begin to realize that aviation is not the only field where this becomes possible.
There are many environments, aviation, diving, navigation, exploration, scientific processes, even certain industrial or sporting systems, where structured procedures exist with fixed variables and repeatable logic. Those characteristics are extremely interesting from a horological perspective because they create the possibility for genuine mechanical interpretation rather than purely decorative complication.
For us, the key is always authenticity. We are not interested in inventing artificial complications simply for novelty. The challenge is to identify systems that are already meaningful in the real world and ask whether mechanics can express them in a beautiful, intuitive, and emotionally engaging way.
So yes, this is definitely becoming one of the areas in which Watch Angels is developing. We are already investigating other standardized procedures and concepts that could potentially be translated into mechanical watches through future collaborations with different brands.
What excites us is that this approach opens a very different creative path for modern watchmaking. Instead of endlessly revisiting historical aesthetics, it allows new forms of functionality, interaction, and meaning to emerge while remaining entirely mechanical at heart.
- If a pilot buys this watch, uses it on an actual IFR approach into Geneva, and it performs exactly as designed, what do you hope they feel in that moment? And what does that mean for the future of Watch Angels?
If a pilot uses the watch during a real IFR approach into Geneva and the watch performs exactly as intended, I think the first feeling we would hope for is a quiet sense of satisfaction and security, the feeling that something entirely mechanical and stand-alone was able to interact coherently with a real-world aviation procedure.
And if it fit works in Geneva, it works everywhere…That is precisely the beauty of standardized aviation logic and the reason this project could exist mechanically in the first place.
But beyond functionality, I hope the wearer feels something more emotional: that mechanical watchmaking creates a form of magic. Not digital efficiency, not software simulation, but an emotional connection between human knowledge, physical mechanics, and a real activity taking place in the world.
A digital instrument will always be more powerful computationally. But a mechanical watch creates a very different relationship because you can see it, manipulate it, understand it physically, and feel the ingenuity behind it. It transforms an abstract procedure into something tangible on the wrist. For me, that is where mechanical watchmaking becomes deeply human.
And if the project succeeds in creating that feeling, then for us at Watch Angels it becomes a very strong encouragement to continue exploring meaningful and ingenious forms of watchmaking.
We believe there is a growing audience of collectors looking for something beyond conventional luxury positioning, collectors searching for originality, authenticity, purpose, and stories that are genuinely rooted in something real. That does not replace traditional luxury watchmaking, but it creates another path alongside it, and I think that path is becoming increasingly interesting for the future of the industry.