Enthusiasts join the legendary manufacture to play watchmaker for a night.
My watch bench awaits at the Four Seasons. |
By Scott Hickey
Audemars Piguet recently invited a small group of collectors and writers to a special evening at the Four Seasons Hotel in Manhattan, where it hosted a private showing of watches from its current collection, as well as several historic pieces on loan from its museum in Le Brassus, Switzerland.
Audemars Piguet recently invited a small group of collectors and writers to a special evening at the Four Seasons Hotel in Manhattan, where it hosted a private showing of watches from its current collection, as well as several historic pieces on loan from its museum in Le Brassus, Switzerland.
As impressive as the watches were, the high point came when
it was time to stop looking and start building. As a special treat, Audemars
Piguet brought two of its watchmakers to patiently guide guests through the
process of assembling a mechanical movement.
The chance to build a caliber doesn’t come along every day,
and for someone who appreciates fine timepieces, it offered a rare and exciting
opportunity to feel what it’s like to bring one of these elegant machines to
life.
1986 Ultra-Thin Automatic Tourbillon |
Let me say this, it’s a humbling experience on many levels.
Peering through the loupe, you gain a
deeper appreciation for a movement’s scale and complexity. You can also clearly
see the meticulous decoration applied by artisans who have transformed the
movement into a metal canvas for their handiwork. But most of all – as I chased
a crumb-size screw around the watch bench with a pair of tweezers – I realized
that I have neither the patience nor the dexterity to be a watchmaker.
Before I donned my official Audemars Piguet lab coat and got
down to the business of building, my group was joined by Claudio Cavaliere, a global
ambassador for the brand. His presentation offered insight into the company’s
evolution from its start in 1875. But he went back even further in time,
touching upon the important role that the Vallée de Joux – the brand’s
birthplace – played in its success.
More than two centuries before watchmaking emerged in
Switzerland, the people living in the valley were mining its rocky landscape
for ore and earning the region a reputation for its metalwork. “In the early
days of watchmaking, the ability to craft components precisely and consistently
was crucial. The Vallée de Joux already had that experience, which is an
important reason why it became the cradle of Swiss watchmaking,” he said.
When Jules Audemars and Edward Piguet established the brand
nearly 140 years ago, Cavaliere said the village of Le Brassus was a natural
choice. “The proximity to the raw materials simplified production, which in
turn attracted skilled watchmakers to the region,” he explained.
That expansive pool of horological talent helped fuel the
family-run company’s ability to manufacture complicated movements. In fact, it
took Audemars Piguet only seven years to unveil its first grand complication
pocket watch, an amazing achievement for such a young company.
Today as Yesterday
1923 Perpetual Calendar pocket watch. |
Brand historian Michael Friedman brought that legacy to life
as he shared stories about AP’s achievements while passing around more than a
dozen vintage timepieces, including chronographs and grand complications, as
well as the world’s first automatic-winding, ultra-thin tourbillon from 1986.
“When you delve into the Audemars Piguet archives, you can see that the drive
to innovate is the common thread that connects its past and present. What the
brand does today, is what it’s always done,” he explained.
Friedman illustrated that notion vividly using several
perpetual calendar timepieces that represented nearly a century of watchmaking.
The first was an extra-thin pocket watch from 1923. If you look closely, you’ll
notice there is no leap year indication. Instead, the month display includes 48
months to reflect the four-year calendar cycle.
The discussion then turned to AP’s first perpetual calendar
wristwatch. Only three were made when it was introduced in 1955, Friedman said.
And while an example was not on hand at the Four Seasons, one is on display at
the brand’s museum in Le Brassus.
Friedman then brought out a record-setting timepiece, the
world’s first self-winding, ultra-thin perpetual calendar with a central rotor.
Unveiled in 1978, the extremely complex movement is housed in a gold case that
is just 7mm thick. Years later, that legendary movement (2120/2800) gave rise
to the 2120/2802, the automatic caliber found it the brand’s current generation
of perpetual calendars. In 1996, it was skeletonized for the Royal Oak, and
today a non-skeleton version beats inside the elegant Jules Audemars case,
which is an impressive 9.15mm thick.
1978 Perpetual Calendar |
1996 Royal Oak Perpetual Calendar Skeleton |
Current Jules Audemars Perpetual Calendar |
Time of My Life
Before the work begins |
After seeing pieces from the museum and selections from the
current collection, it was finally time to try my hand at building a movement.
In a small conference room, watch benches were set up and equipped with the tools and parts needed to assemble one of Audemars Piguet’s
most-basic hand-wound calibers. Perched on a low-slung stool, I rested my
elbows on the bench, which stood about shoulder high. After a quick primer
about the tools and some background on the movement, watchmakers Gary Cruz and Emma
Schaer led our group of would-be horologists on an unforgettable 30-minute
adventure.
After adding the barrel bridge and going train |
After removing the glass cover protecting the movement, my
first task was to secure the bridge that holds the mainspring barrel and
crown wheel to the base plate. It took some wrangling with the tweezers to pick
up and place the screws, but Schaer quickly rescued me with some helpful
advice, quite possibly to prevent me from poking an eye out.
The completed movement |
Undaunted, I pressed on, adding the three brass wheels of
the going train. As these turn, they transmit energy from the mainspring to the
escapement while rotating the hands around the dial. To work, the wheels must
be seated properly so they turn freely. The final step was to add the mainspring barrel. While screwing it into position, the screwdriver tip slipped, grazed the
barrel and gouged the metal, marring its beautiful sunray finish. And with
that, my short but enjoyable tenure as a junior watchmaker came to an
ignominious end.
Watchmaker Gary Cruz adds the balance assembly to finish the movement. |
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