MINIATURE MARVELS Lydia Slater visits a Swiss studio where classic paintings are crafted onto the faces of truly extraordinary watches
Gazing intently into the eyepieces of her microscope, the young woman dips her brush into the paint, and makes a tiny stroke upon the ornately carved mother-of-pearl disk.
Under her fingers, I see a lavender flower sprout and grow; above it, a pair of red-throated swallows swoop through the summer sky, their feathers ruffled by a gentle breeze…
From Gulliver’s Travels to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, from venerable bonsai oaks to exquisitely carved netsuke animals and the thumbnail-size original books in Queen Mary’s Lutyens-designed dolls’ house at Windsor Castle – the world rendered Lilliputian never fails to enchant. Such works of art, like the hand-painted Jaeger-LeCoultre watch that is being created before my eyes, are not showy pieces, designed to strike awe into the heart of the viewer; they do not demand we keep a respectful distance in order to take them in properly. On the contrary – miniatures are intimate, designed to be held in the hand, and brought up close to the face to be appreciated. Their diminutive size reduces the viewer in turn to a child-like state of wonder at the skill of an artist who can perfectly create a composition that, to paraphrase Hamlet, may be bounded in a nutshell and yet offer infinite space.
In today’s mass-produced world, few craftspeople remain
with the artistry and patience necessary to create such works. This is why it feels like such a privilege to be invited into Jaeger-LeCoultre’s Rare Crafts Atelier, at the heart of its historical premises in Switzerland’s Vallée de Joux.
Watchmaking itself is miniaturisation raised to a fine art, the shrinking of a clock mechanism so that it can be worn on the wrist. (The brand’s Calibre 101 that the Queen wore during her coronation is set into a double-stranded diamond bracelet, the hands on its face so tiny you have to squint to see them.) Touring the workshop, which has been sited here since 1833, you marvel at the cumbersome machinery required to turn out toothed cogwheels that are barely visible to the naked eye and must be collected in what looks like a fine-mesh tea-strainer.
Within the atelier, the art reaches its pinnacle. Inside this glass-walled space with its glorious views over the surrounding valley and hills, the ancient skills of enamelling, engraving, gem-setting and guilloché-work are practised daily. In one corner stand three restored rose engine lathes, about a 100 years old, that are still used to produce the guilloché carving; in another corner, artisans in white coats pick with pincers through assorted heaps of glittering diamonds, choosing the individual stones that will be set into a watch case. And at the side, three women enamellers
are hand-painting tiny works of art. One is adding delicate birds onto the face of a Rendez-Vous Sonatina ladies’ watch; another embarks on a blue and white design featuring koi carp. Meanwhile Sophie Quenaon, who has worked in this department for 18 years, is applying the first layer of enamel to the back of a Reverso watch, which, as connoisseurs will be aware, was originally designed to flip over so that the glass face could be protected while you played polo. Today, it can be used to display your initials, a family crest – or the masterpiece of your choice, enamelled onto the back.
Quenaon lays aside her brush to pull out a tray of examples. There is a perfectly rendered Hokusai wave, with creamy crest, upon which the Japanese characters that run up the side appear to the naked eye like tiny dots, yet are perfectly readable when magnified. ‘We have to keep it exact,’ she explains, ‘otherwise you don’t have the same force from the picture.’
Alongside, on a bed of black velvet, nestles a Van Gogh landscape; a Klimt; a Degas; Michaelangelo’s hand of God from the Sistine Chapel; and, most astonishingly, a Seurat, in which the pointillism appears to have been rendered at a hundredth of its original, already tiny scale.
Painting by eye, using a specially cut brush, the artists apply up to eight layers of enamel to create these astonishing pieces. The skill lies not only in the painting, but in the blending of the various colours to achieve the desired effect. ‘For instance, the transparent enamel we use on top has a tendency to alter the colours underneath so you have to make allowances for that,’ says Quenaon. The firing, at 800 degrees, may also affect the colours, meaning that the whole process has to start again.
‘It takes a special sort of personality to do this work,’ she goes on. ‘You need to be very calm and focused. If you’re interrupted, it takes a while to get back into the flow.’ Indeed, although there must be 30 people at work in the atelier, the silence is absolute. ‘During the day, I don’t notice the time passing. It’s an intensely thrilling job, and every day is a challenge. But in the evening, I’m often completely exhausted.’ Each piece can take up to 100 hours to produce, as much as a full-size artwork, yet it is destined to sit on the back of a watch, or beneath its owner’s sleeve. Truly, the ultimate in hidden treasure. www.jaeger-lecoultre.com
Inside this glass-walled space, the ancient skills
of enamelling, gem-setting and guilloché-work are
practised daily