Tag: limited edition watch

H. Moser & Cie. Endeavour Perpetual Calendar Tutorial: The World’s Coolest Instruction Manual, And One Hell Of A (Simple!) Complex Watch

Posted on by Adam Keith
(The limited edition Tutorial version of the Endeavour Perpetual calendar, next to the original model sans “instruction manual”)

Note the twins pictured here, which aren’t quite identical. Two 42mm white gold H. Moser & Cie. watches which are mechanically and dimensionally the same, but one with…well, just something a little different going on! That’s right, the one on the left is our watch under discussion, bringing the mystery of H. Moser’s delightfully simple perpetual calendar seen on the right, clearly to light, in an exercise that’s either ridiculously cheesy, or possessed of a considerable sense of humor, depending on your perspective. In the rather dark and dystopian days of the 2020s I tend to find it more of the latter, and beyond that, some possible proof that hardcore high horology need not take itself too seriously to be enjoyable. (Based on what we’ve seen from other H. Moser & Cie. watches, it’s apparent the company also feels similarly.) Could that make me a jaded guy who’s been around this odd hobby too long? Possibly. But, if you share my appreciation for finely crafted things that tick, perhaps you also may find some joy, however fleeting, in this strangely straightforward yet charmingly quirky H. Moser perpetual calendar timepiece. Among its many virtues, the Endeavour Perpetual Tutorial showcases the prodigious grey matter of independent watchmaking legend Andreas Strehler, who among more than a few notable feats, provided the technical solutions powering Harry Winston’s Opus 7, a beautiful watch offering a unique, and charmingly ephemeral, “butterfly” time display.

(The H. Moser Endeavour tells you the leap year cycle, but keeps this seldom used indicator on the reverse side of the watch)

Why would a manufacturer place literal spelled-out indications for the various functions all over the dial, especially on one as visually striking as this? Well, to the uninitiated, it would be tricky to perceive that the H. Moser Endeavour Perpetual in its stealth (i.e., standard) form would be anything but a simple time and date watch with an ravishing blue fumé dial and an extra hand for the power reserve indication. But there is more to this watch…much more, and to those unfamiliar with it, it might beg the question, once the truth of the watch’s complexity is known, “How does it work?? Where is the day, date month, to say nothing of leap year?” Philosophical answer: The Endeavour Perpetual minimizes things superfluous, smoothly integrates key functions where they create the least visual clutter, and joins it all together with a mechanism optimized for real world use, as well as a demonstration of traditional watchmaking flair.

(Despite the “instruction manual”, the Tutorial has all the charm and beauty of its regular sibling, right down to the mysterious fumé blue dial)

The Endeavour Perpetual is one of H. Moser’s mightiest timepieces–perhaps the most so–in the sense that it effortlessly blends the brand’s design ethos, sense of playfulness, and penchant for mechanical ingenuity, and does those things seamlessly while elevating one of the most impressive of traditional complications. Most perpetual calendar watches have dials with an imposing array of calendar information, to include the day of the week, the date, the month, and even the leap year indication, often in tandem with the moon phase. This smorgasbord of information, customarily given with pointer indications in elegant but minuscule subdials, gives such watches a classic, imposing stature, as their complexity is readily perceivable to even a fairly lay person. What these watches lose, however, is easy legibility and simplicity of operation. Some notable watches have emerged in years past by other innovative luxury brands such as Ulysse Nardin that offered ingenious backwards and forwards adjustable calendars, yet it remains pretty established that most perpetuals are a notable pain to set and reset if–God forbid–they should stop. Such watches are also notoriously easy to break if adjustments are made at the wrong time, or the various correctors are forced. Needless to say, if there were one mechanical watch that probably justifies the ownership of a fancy watch winder, it’s a traditional perpetual calendar (or two, or three) in one’s collection. Then again, if perpetual calendars like the H. Moser Endeavour were more the norm…well, that justification might just about evaporate entirely, save for perhaps the want of pretty pieces of furniture in which to store the collection!

Looking at an H. Moser Endeavour Perpetual on its face, it seems less to be a complex machine that keeps pace with the machinations of the date through the years, even to account for leap years, but to be a watch that just tells you the time and date, along with the power reserve indication for the lengthy 168 hours (7 days) the in-house manufactured HMC 800 caliber offers up. The Tutorial Limited Edition playfully lets us in on the secrets, and describes the subtle nuances of this very sophisticated and surprisingly practical high complication wristwatch, which can be crown-adjusted forwards and backwards with ease (and no mechanical danger) as well as effortlessly shifting the date ahead with “knowledge” of the length of months, even during a short February in leap year. Need to know if it’s currently a leap year? Once everything is properly set and running, just turn the watch over: the leap year indication has been shifted to the back, where it joins the assemblage of pretty mechanical components to look at, which include golden jewel chatons, separated bridges in classic pocket watch style, and a shapely balance bridge complete with a 14K gold balance assembly that Moser has optimized for easy replacement and adjustment when servicing is required. As mentioned, the date can be switched backwards as well as forwards, all with no damage to the mechanism. And of course, there’s the discreet monthly indicator in the central hand stack that moves but twelve times per year–neatly in accord with the twelve hour indicators doubling for months. The information is there, but the brilliant and forward thinking mechanism does this all without spoiling the harmony of an achingly elegant, visually simple design.

This is the sort of watch that would pique even the interest of a non-watch person, I’d like to think. They might gently accost you with the usual “why do you like these mechanical watches?”, or, “why spend so much money on a silly, outdated thing? Veblen is laughing at you from the Great Beyond.” But, then they get curious. Perhaps it’s at this point they ask “well, what is a perpetual calendar anyway?” After telling them how they work and what they do, they suddenly seem quite impressed and rather bemused that a little micro-machine whose origins go back well over two centuries, can disseminate all of that information. They may wonder out loud, as inquisitiveness gets the best of them, “Well, ok, how do you read one of these things? With this watch, there’s barely anything even there!” Then, rather than telling them, you put the H. Moser & Cie. Endeavour Tutorial carefully in their hand, and watch their own cogs start to spin as the dial spells it out a little bit at a time. Talk about a high-grade horological gateway drug!

Blancpain Fifty Fathoms Bathyscaphe Bucherer Blue: Stunningly Beautiful, And Capable As Ever, In A Resplendent Limited Edition

Posted on by Adam Keith

As heir to the throne of vintage Fifty Fathoms divers–the watch which actually beat the vaunted Rolex Submariner to the punch in defining what we what we now take for granted as a dive watch–the modern Ref 5015 Blancpain Fifty Fathoms has earned its laurel as the archetypal modern Blancpain luxury sports watch. That being said, I absolutely adore its slightly smaller, and less celebrated familial offshoot, the more subtle (and easier to wear) 43mm Bathyscaphe. So much so, that one is on my wrist as I write this, and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that the full-size Bathyscaphe has earned its place as among the most comprehensively satisfying watches I’ve had the opportunity to own and enjoy in well over a decade. Probably the only meaningful nit that I can pick with it is the oddball 23mm lug spacing, but I’ll gripe more about that later, after dishing out heaping quantities of effusive praise.

(A little personal inspiration! My trusty Bathyscaphe keeping me on track, as I write about the Bucherer Blue Edition.)

A study in subtlety, might be the best way to describe it. Toolish and somewhat stark on the outside, yet beautifully refined on the inside with its 5-day automatic caliber and gradient sunburst dial that sparkles with polished white gold accents, the modern Bathyscaphe in any of its guises is a multifaceted timepiece that rewards an owner most at close inspection. At the same time, it keeps its high horology secrets discreetly concealed from the public eye, in the way that only a true Watch Idiot Savant favorite can. No wilting violet despite its savoir faire credentials, the Bathyscaphe, like its 45mm brother is ISO 6425 certified and happily pressure-tight 300 meters below the water’s surface…a depth far greater than most humans can survive at, let alone functionally utilize, its luminous hands and bezel pearl brightly shining all the while. Tool and high watchmaking jewel all in one, I adore the Bathyscaphe for its surprising versatility, refined craftsmanship, and brute capability. Many watches offer these qualities to some degree or another, but few put them together in as interesting and enjoyably cohesive–dare I say useful?–a package as this one does.

(A glorious blue sunburst dial, and even brighter luminous material: The Bathyscaphe has superb legibility, day or night.)

Still, with modern-day Blancpain being part of the Swatch Group complex of brands, there have been a plethora of additions and special variants, some with exotic cases in materials like ceramic or titanium, and others with special dial colors or lack of date display–such as the fabulous green Mokarran, a beloved favorite for fans of Blancpain and dive watches alike. The watch here is but another stunning addition to the family, and is being produced in conjunction with the prestigious European retailer Bucherer, for a run of just 188 pieces to be offered exclusively via the retailer’s boutiques. To be clear, this isn’t the first Blancpain diver to be offered in partnership with Bucherer, nor even the first Bathyscaphe: in 2018, a similarly azure variant of the technically brilliant Bathyscaphe Chronograph saw introduction, going so far as to feature a case manufactured from blue ceramic. This time, we get back to basics, and the result is no less superb–the epitome of a high luxury tool watch, with a little something extra special thrown in for good measure.

The case is familiar, at the standard 43mm, but is offered in black ceramic as have been certain iterations in the past. Due to that exotic and extraordinarily hard material, you can expect a watch that is essentially immune to scratches, but does carry the decided risk of chipping or shattering if dropped or impacted severely. That said, with a modicum of care, that should be easy to avoid. What is new, for this model, is an absolutely ravishing blue dial that is a sybaritic joy of contrasts and textures. Not only does this version show off the radiant and sublimely variant sunburst of other members of the family, it also shows off a contrastingly-grained section at the dial’s edge where the hour markers reside: to me, the effect recalls, ever so slightly, some of the classic “pie pan” type dials seen in certain vintage watches, while giving a new and even more complex dimension to the radiant light play already on display. Like many, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunburst dial, and while a few companies do an exceptional job of producing them (Rolex would certainly come to mind here), I don’t think anyone does it any better than Blancpain, and the ample open space on this reference offers an expanse of serenity to amplify the effect. Fine details abound, as we’ve come to expect from any Blancpain watch: the distinctive block hands with their delightfully fine and elegantly curved syringe tips are made from highly polished white gold and catch the light with every turn of the wrist or shift of a light source. Yet, they–like the dial–are in no way garish or a detraction to timekeeping functionality. The luminous plots on the hands are huge and make reading the time effortless whenever you deign to look. Hit those hands with even a short exposure to a bright light source, and they all but explode with a brilliant glow that lasts well through the night. Keeping the chromatic theme consistent is a lustrous blue ceramic bezel insert, created using the innovative and high tech “Liquid Metal” amorphous metal bonding technique developed by the Swatch Group, and familiar from some of the top-range dive watches from Swatch Group sibling Omega.

(Brawn and beauty in one: Blancpain’s exclusive 1315 caliber, with a rotor exclusive to this edition)

The movement remains the richly crafted and time-proven Blancpain 1315 caliber, a caliber that has seen service in the 43mm Bathyscaphe and 45mm Fifty Fathoms for quite some years now. For those not familiar with it, this movement was developed from the ground up by Blancpain in conjunction with the firm’s movement manufacturer Frederic Piguet. It offers both the high-end finish and constructive quality and materials expected of a movement in the haute de gamme category, and the toughness and reliability of a workhorse-type tracteur, along with a very impressive 5 day power reserve courtesy of three mainspring barrels, and a freely sprung balance with magnetism-foiling silicon hairspring for superior timekeeping stability. Few movements anywhere in the industry offer such an impressive combination of luxury, innovation and durability. In my own experience, the 1315 has delivered all promised, being both extremely resilient, and very precise in terms of daily rate. It’s also beautiful to behold, with some of the richest bridge bevels you can hope to find, lovely sunburst textures on the winding wheels, and opulently large jewels set in polished countersinks on the spiral decorated bridges; if you seek out a disassembly pictorial of the caliber (such as this one from the esteemed Peter Speake-Marin) the fine finishing extends to areas of the mechanism only the watchmaker will see. In the Bucherer edition, you get another special aesthetic touch: here, the 18K gold winding rotor, showing off the same lovely bevels and textures as the base model, offers the Blancpain insignia in conjunction with that of the retailer’s, highlighted against a signature blue motif which unifies the theme of blue, and with it, the ocean conservation programs Blancpain remains actively involved in funding.

Each of the 188 Bucherer Blue Bathyscaphes will be individually numbered on the edge of the caseback. A fabric strap, slightly different than the meticulously crafted NATO type strap, or sailcloth option, that normally graces the Fifty Fathoms Bathyscaphe completes the watch. And on that note, we return one final time to what is probably my only real complaint with both the modern Fifty Fathoms and Bathyscaphe collections: the full-sized watches have a 23mm lug spacing, and if you ever try to source 23mm straps…you’ll quickly realize its very much an uphill battle. Yes, one can make do with squeezing a 24mm in (which looks ok but not perfectly tailored) or deal with an unsightly, sloppy gap by going to a 22mm, but that really shouldn’t be necessary with a watch that is such an absolutely glorious “strap monster” in every other respect. I know, I know…the brand offers a few very nicely designed (and expensive) options in NATO or sailcloth, but if the 43mm Bathyscaphe had a lug width just one millimeter narrower, a whole universe of aftermarket straps would open up for owners of these watches, and make this often overlooked, but truly fabulous high-end diver, a force to be reckoned with against just about anything out there. “Blancpain, hear the collective prayers of your Fifty Fathoms faithful, please!” Be that as it may, this is still a damned fine example of Blancpain’s virtues as a house of horology, and at a suggested list USD price of around $17,000, a notable value when shopped against the most vaunted high luxury sports watches from the “Big Three”.

(Even the box is striking and different: a watertight Pelican container, complete with a fitted soft case inside)

Jaeger-LeCoultre Reverso à Eclipse Vincent van Gogh Miniature Enamel: A Beautiful Tribute To An Artist, And The Artistry Of Watches Too

Posted on by Adam Keith

As a child growing up in a household enthusiastic about art, music and literature, I was exposed from an early age to the inspiring, passionate and profoundly sad life and career of Vincent Van Gogh, a tortured but deeply good-hearted soul who lived, breathed, and created art motivated not by fancy things or people, but the common man and woman…often those among them struggling the hardest. His own battle with a number of issues, and ultimate tragic death 131 years ago this day remain one of the luminous stories in the history of creative expression, and indeed, the existential struggle at large. I’ll never forget how much my father, a composer and writer himself, found so much inspiration for his own work in the life of Vincent.

(“Portrait of a Painter” from 1887, the work chosen for this Reverso special edition)

With that set forth, and the significance of July 29th in proper context, there’s no watch to better share than this beautiful, recently announced limited Jaeger-LeCoultre Reverso, which captures in an extraordinary display of miniature enamel paint mastery, one of Vincent’s most famous self portraits, completed in 1887, earnestly showing himself in the way he found and brought light to the world around him–as an artist. Looking at macros of the dial, it’s truly breathtaking how well the team at JLC have brought every nuance of “Portrait of a Painter” to life, from the confident strokes of thick paint Van Gogh was so known for (that to the sometimes-chagrin of friend, mentor, and provocateur Paul Gauguin, who often explosively clashed with him over matters in their divergent artistic and technical approaches) on to the red & green, yellow & purple and blue & orange pairings which were part of the unique alchemy that lent Vincent’s works their characteristic visual brilliance and inexplicable emotional gravity.

To think that a master of miniature enamel painting captured the essence of this famous work on such a minuscule scale is really quite mindblowing. While there are many extraordinary examples of such dials from some of the great houses of watchmaking (Patek Philippe comes to mind here), the particularly rich subject matter gives this one some real pull for me, and I’m sure other lovers of art and history, as well. With its rectangular shape mimicking a frame, Jaeger-LeCoultre’s famous reversible watch hailing from 1931 is the perfect showcase for the artwork. This Reverso model, known as the Reverso à Eclipse, has an additional lovely, very sophisticated trick up its sleeve: a mechanical shutter controlled by small wheel you can access with your index finger (just above, and to the left of, the winding crown) allows the wearer to discreetly hide the painting when desired, to show an elegant display of Arabic numerals instead. And then, back again, when desired. Typical Art Deco perfection, this particular Reverso case is wrought from platinum and contains the brand’s manufacture Caliber 849, renowned for its exceptional slimness. In fact, for many years–and to my knowledge it has yet to be bested here–the Jaeger-LeCoultre 849 has reigned as the slimmest mechanical movement in the world, at a staggeringly slight 1.85mm in height. Beyond the technical marvel presented in that knife-like thinness, is a constructive and finishing excellence that speaks to classical Swiss watchmaking, and the immense know how of the Jaeger-LeCoultre manufacture, a long-time pillar of Swiss watchmaking if ever there were one.

(JLC Caliber 849, the slimmest handwound movement in the world)

Much as Vincent’s life was, this is a fleeting and exceedingly rare limited edition. Only four Reverso à Eclipse Van Gogh Self Portrait watches will be sold, with one additional apparently to be on–hopefully permanent–display in the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. Like Jaeger-LeCoultre’s first, and equally limited, series of such watches in 2015, which honored Vincent’s beloved “Sunflowers”, the remaining handful will only be available through JLC’s Amsterdam boutique partner Gassan, the alliance of which has been a driving force in these pieces seeing creation. Price–and hopefully it’s not obscene to mention it in the context of such a truly special series–is €101,000, a number that doesn’t seem out of line for the work involved. It is ever so contemplative a thing though, I suppose, given the context of the destitution in which Van Gogh often lived, unable to sell scarcely any of his works. (And we all know how much that changed in the years after his death!) Still, it’s moving to see the artist honored in this way, and I think Jaeger-LeCoultre has done a phenomenal job with producing something far beyond the fare often presented as “limited editions”. I wonder which famous artwork of Vincent’s will be honored in years to come? A very exciting prospect to consider!

(“Sunflowers” Reverso a Eclipse from 2015, the first edition to honor Vincent Van Gogh)

Panerai Radiomir Eilean: Commemorative Excellence, Or…Nostalgic Branding Run Amok?

Posted on by Adam Keith

Beauty is in the beholder’s eye, to be certain, so the answer to the titular provocation is up to the reader. And, God knows, I’m no ultimate arbiter of taste, being pretty “live and let” live in my typical Libertarian-with-a-lower case-l sort of way. That said, for me, this Panerai Radiomir falls in the latter camp. Exactly how much branding does a watch need to convey its special qualities? That’s the first question I asked myself when I saw this one, and the answer that unhesitatingly whispered back from the abyss was, “Not this much.”

Ok, from antiquity, to the time of Melville, and even now, sailing the ocean seas has been a cool adventure, and the history of the Eilean vessel is both colorful and interesting: designed by shipbuilder William Fife III and completed in 1936 at the behest of two Scottish steel magnates, Eilean saw her share of glamour, not just in the early years, but later as a charter in the Carribean during the 1970s. The Eilean even has minor cult status as a pop culture reference thanks to the wonderfully-horribly cheesy Duran Duran music video “Rio” from 1982, in which the band cavorts about on it while doing laughable 80s band stuff, as a swimsuit-clad woman doused in paint simultaneously flirts with everyone and yet no one in particular. Alas, the glamorous Eilean took serious damage on an Atlantic sailing, and sank into obscurity, ultimately languishing in poor state in an Antigua harbor. That’s where the then-CEO of Panerai, Angelo Bonati, smitten by the Eilean’s story and sensual form, stepped in, buying the boat in 2006 and dedicating his resources to a full several year restoration in Italy, the results of which, are frankly amazing.  

(Panerai’s retired ex-CEO Angelo Bonati with his lovely oceangoing “lady”, the Eilean)

So this Radiomir watch pays tribute to a beautiful boat, and the Italian watch brand CEO who loved her. But sometimes love just has to speak quietly for itself. The watch that commemorates this particular affair suggests less of amore, and more of…well, not very subtle kitsch. I’ll be fair, and give credit where it’s due: the slatted PAM sandwich dial, designed to evoke the teak deck planks of the boat, is quite fetching and it meshes well with the underlying vintagey lume coloration. So too, the case finishing is tasteful, neither polished nor totally matte, and evokes an elegant aesthetic subtly positioned between tool and jewel. Good so far? Sure. The watch has a fundamental charm.

But…then we go off the deep end.  You’d think the rather flamboyant (however clearly well constructed and detailed) leather strap with looped stitching–apparently to evoke details of the sails on the Eilean–that’s also stamped with “EILEAN – 1936” would be enough, along with the boat deck dial, to honor the connection.  But, if you did, you’d be wrong: emblazoned on the left side of the sizable 45mm case, literally from “stern to stem” is another–not subtle–engraving of the same, complete with a filigree dragon motif that probably looks smashing applied to the Eilean itself, but on the watch, a rather odd detail, unnecessary, and frankly…a case, no pun intended, of trying too hard.  But, just to be sure you still weren’t clued in that this watch is a tribute to the classic 1936 ketch, the engraved “EILEAN 1936” caseback is there to help you remember anytime you happen to flip it over for whatever reason. (And, I really don’t know why you would, as there’s nothing to see aside from the redundant, very large engraving.) At this moment, I’m beginning to get an image of Bill Lumbergh of Office Space infamy, intoning in his monotone manager drone, “So uhm, yeah, I’ll just go ahead and make sure you get another copy of that EILEAN 1936 memo…mmkaaay?”

(Bill Lumbergh, formerly of Initech Corporation, now rumored to be advising Panerai and the Richemont Group: “So if you could just go ahead and slap another commemorative decoration somewhere we haven’t already, that would be great. Thaaaanks.”)

Memos have seldom been more expensive, either. For a watch that shouts from the mountaintop about a boat you don’t actually own, or have any ability to sail upon, prepare to sacrifice eight thousand bucks. I don’t know about you, but there are plenty of watches both in and out of the Panerai catalog that offer notably more horological substance for similar outlay. Not that you can see the movement through the EILEAN caseback anyway, but for that money, you’d hope Panerai would be willing to at least give the buyer one of their 8-day calibers, but no…you get the 3-day P.6000, outfitted to other watches in the range for about half of what the Radiomir Eilean costs. Not a bad mechanism, by any means, but one might hope for something just a wee bit more special, given the asking price. Oh yes, and the edition is 449 pieces, not for all time, but every year…apparently in a nod to a number on the Eilean’s sail. (How special is this, again?) Anyway, speaking of sails, there’s little wind left in my own on this one. Oh well, at least the Radiomir Eilean has a screw down crown like any proper PAM should, and has more than 30m water resistance.  (*cough* *cough*)  Oh, Panerai…how I miss pre-corporate you! 😉

A. Lange & Sohne Cabaret Tourbillon Handwerkskunst: The Spectacular Return Of Germany’s Most Glamorous Rectangular Watch

Posted on by Adam Keith


With every bit of regrettable news, a brighter update can often emerge to save the day. In the case of A. Lange & Sohne’s beautiful rectangular watch, the Cabaret, “the show” came to an end some time ago. This model loss in the Lange catalog always seemed a shame to me, however understandable it may have been from a business perspective. Rectangular watches, after all, are a rare, if less appreciated breed in modern times–but this one was stunning. The glamorous Cabaret bucked the trend of round watches both within and beyond Lange’s outstanding catalog, and was a daring, dashing, and provocative challenger against established offerings from revered Swiss watchmaking houses like Jaeger-LeCoultre with the Reverso, and exceptional houses of jewelry who also happened to make fine watches, such as Cartier and their iconic Tank. But alas, the Cabaret, despite gaining a few acclaimed variants like a beautiful Moonphase iteration, proved a slow seller in the original Lange lineup, and was dropped in favor of continued development on the 1815, Lange 1, Datograph, and other hard hitting model families.

Still, before the final curtain, Lange brought out its ultimate Cabaret iteration–one fitted with an exceptional tourbillon caliber in 2008, and this watch continued in production for five years. Fast forward to 2021, and the Cabaret Tourbillon is back, and what a reissue it is! A. Lange & Sohne applies the Handwerkskunst designation to a tiny handful of models for very limited production, that showcase the absolute highest, no holds barred, levels of craftsmanship the brand is capable of. Of course, every A. Lange watch is a masterpiece of watchmaking and craft, but these special models take things even further, and this Cabaret Tourbillon lives up to every expectation one might have of something like this…as if the original model wasn’t impressive enough.

Starting with the 26.5mm wide by x 39.2mm tall platinum case, we have a very exclusive material, and it suits the dial materials and artistry very well, as we’ll explore in a moment. The Cabaret case has always been an extremely intricate iteration of the square/rectangle form, with its stepped bezel and subtle yet strong lugs that flare every so slightly away from the contrastingly brushed caseband. This is not a case for mass production, and handling one, or even seeing a good quality image, should tell you that the creation process is, and was, very costly. The dial, with its muted silver and grey tones, to say nothing of delectable texture and depth, is where our mouths begin to fall open a little bit, because there is a lot going on there—all very simply and elegantly of course–and we must take a deeper dive to understand just how much handcraft is needed to create this playing field of finely measured time.

A. Lange & Sohne artisans begin with a dial base of white gold, the center of which is entirely carved out by hand with an interlocking series of lozenge (or diamond shaped, if you prefer) motifs, a task which as you may imagine, involves an extraordinarily trained and unhurried engraver’s hand. Additional tasks the engraver also has to achieve here on the Cabaret Tourbillon include a tremblage section around the tiny periphery of the diamond-within-diamond section, and a grained pattern on the black rhodiumized outer area in which the gold Roman numerals are applied. Let’s backtrack to that tremblage aspect again, just to focus on one technique here, and what difficulty it entails: the engraver, armed with a burin tool, must impress tiny interconnecting dots, not too deep, yet just enough, so as to create a fine stippled texture. Needless to say, a person not possessed of patience–extreme patience?–need not apply. Yet, it only gets harder from here, believe it or not!

After accomplishing all this, the skilled hands at Lange must undertake the most hair-raising element of creating these dials: grand feu enameling. Long considered one of the trickiest handcrafts in making exceptional watches, dials in this type of enamel are difficult enough to produce on simpler dials, from application to kiln firing, all the while hoping the translucence and evenness holds up and survives the literal trial of fire without any cracks. Speaking of those, the odds of cracking are much higher on a dial like this, due to the intricate metal structures around the apertures (for the date windows, tourbillon cage, and second hand and power reserve subdials), which place heightened stress on the already fragile, thin enamel. These tricky obstacles resulted in approximately half of these Cabaret dials requiring things to start from scratch, all over again. Further adding to the nerve-wracking process was an additional final firing cycle–at a somewhat lower temperature–just to fix the brand signature, in a very specific paint, to the enamel base! It seems the powers that be at A. Lange & Sohne were quite relieved that only thirty had to be completed, and that I can absolutely believe. That said, the result of their labor is indeed amazing and lives up to everything the Handwerkskunst designation promises.

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As expected, the movement is a match to the glorious dial. L042.1 equals and then builds on the excellence of the one powering the original Cabaret Tourbillon. In terms of technical basics–a long 120 hour power reserve (courtesy of two large mainspring barrels), a hand-crafted, hand-regulated one minute tourbillon mounted on diamond endstones in the manner of the finest Saxon watches, and jewels mounted in gold chatons fixed down with fire-blued screws–they are much the same. Yet this watch does offer some additional refinements over its predecessor. For example, the balance wheel contained within the 60 second “whirlwind” is now freely sprung for superior performance, and as an additional point, shows off Lange’s now in-house manufactured balance spring. And, as superlative as the finish of the first rectangular Lange tourbillon caliber was, this one offers some additional flourishes and differentiators: plates are frosted rather than Glashutte ribbed, and the winding wheels have a circular grained finish that differs slightly from the typical sunburst effect seen on other such Lange components. (And may, may I add, holy smokes are those wheels finished impeccably!) Perhaps most distinctively, the cocks supporting the intermediate drive wheel and tourbillon carriage charmingly show off the same–hand engraved, of course!–lozenge motif that the dial does. Art, craft, and history are all seamlessly joined in the Cabaret Handwerkskunst.

Leave it to A. Lange & Sohne to leave our mouths watering once again. As mentioned, there won’t–and really, can’t–be too many of these. For the thirty who are fortunate enough, the necessarily steep €315,200 asking price for this extraordinary Lange Cabaret is surely just a formality.