A grandfather clock can be one of those intangibles that punctuates the feeling of coming home. The accessory likely is not a mandate in a decorating scheme, unless you recall living with one prominently displayed in the foyer or any other frequented place of the family homestead. Those with nostalgia for such a design understand that it stands like a grenadier, guarding the household with its hefty stolidity and ever-swinging pendulum, speaking up with periodic regularity through a chime easily ignored or taken for granted when such an interaction dictates day-to-day life. Such a clock, often unappreciated by those with no connection to one, becomes an integral element that defines "home" for those that do.

And if you take away the chimes, it’s worth revisiting the notion of owning a grandfather clock, especially if it’s the Gramat precision pendulum clock, a skeletonized variation, by Germany’s Philippe Wurtz. "It’s sculptural, a piece of horological art," says Michael Mooney, vice president of Time Techno (www.timetechnoinc.com) in Cambridge, Mass., the U.S. distributor for Philippe Wurtz.

Indeed, the Gramat would not be out of place holding court in a serene white art gallery, or, more accessibly, in a serene modern home. Then again, given its transparency, this engineering marvel would blend equally well in any setting.

The Gramat operates in a near vacuum within an airtight glass and brass casing, and a glass-ball sensor, linked to an air pump, is designed to regulate atmospheric changes and air density within the housing. Complemented by solid tungsten weights, the pendulum, which weighs more than 15 pounds, contains an invar rod to compensate for temperature. Within its vacuum chamber, the pendulum swings, virtually tension-free, providing an accuracy that varies only two seconds per month, with a four-month power reserve (meaning that the clock is wound with an encycloid gear-type key only once every four months). "The Gramat is engineered for precision timekeeping," says Time Techno’s president, Susan Lelyveld, and she explains that by reducing the air resistance, the clock naturally gains accuracy.

No chime announces the Gramat’s presence—an improvement over the traditional model, some might say—and the clock has another laudable feature: a second hand that is driven by the power reserve and reliably hits its marks like a stopwatch. Such precision is easily observed, given that the clockworks are positioned at approximate eye level. Weighing 176 pounds, the clock stands at about 6.7 feet high, only one foot wide, and boasts a depth of less than 7 inches. The clock is available in all-nickel plating or in a two-toned nickel and gold and costs $90,000 in either form; and although nearly silent, if you stand close, the Gramat’s whisperlike tick of the second hand is a reassurance of the constancy of time and place.